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THE
HISTORY OF ENGLAND
THE ACCESSION
JAMES THE SECOND.
BY
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAT.
VOLUME III.
•*• :• : :•• ••• :•• ••. • • ••- ••,
LONDON:
LONGMAN, BROWN, GBEEN, AND LONGMANS.
1855.
• • •• • •
• • • '
• • • • • . • '
• t •••
»••- •
• • •
CONTENTS
OF
THE THIRD VOLUME.
^ CHAPTER XI.
Pago
William and Mary proclaimed in London - - - 1
Rejoicings throughout England ; Rejoicings in Holland « 2
Discontent of the Clergy and of the Army - - - 3
Reaction of Public Feeling - - - - - 5
Temper of the Tories - - - - - 7
Temper of the Whigs - - - - - 11
Ministerial Arrangements - - - - - 13
William his own Minister for Foreign Affairs - - 14
Danby ....... 15
Halifax 17
Nottingham - - - - - - -18
Shrewsbury -- - - - - -19
The Board of Admiralty ; the Board of Treasury - - 20
The Great Seal - - - - - - 21
The Judges -----.-22
The Household - - - - - - 23
Subordinate Appointments - - - - '26
The Convention turned into a Parliament - - - 27
The Members of the two Houses required to take the Oaths - 31
Questions relating to the Reyenue - - - - 33
Abolition of the Hearth Money - - - - 36
Repayment of the Expenses of the United Provinces - - 37
Mutiny at Ipswich - - - - - - 38
The first Mutiny Bill - - - - - 42
Suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act - - - 47
Unpopularity of William - - - - - 48
Popularity of Mary - - - - - -52
The Court removed from Whitehall to Hampton Court - 54
A 2
\
I
\
^-Si^i- ■■- - ■- •
4 ^fl8i8«**^„ . Vre»<* ^^
CONTENTS. V
Page
The Count of Avaux - - - - - - 168
James lands at Kinsale - - - - - 170
James enters Cork - - - - - -171
Journey of James from Cork to Dublin - - - 172
Discontent in England - - - - - 175
Factions at Dublin Castle - - - - - 177
James determines to go to Ulster - - - - 183
Journey of James to Ulster - - - - - 184
The Fall of Londonderry expected - - - - 188
Succours arrive from England - - - - 189
Treachery of Lundy ; the Inhabitants of Londonderry resolve
to defend themselves - - - - - 190
Their Character 192
Londonderry besieged - - - - - 197
The Siege turned into a Blockade - - - - 200
Naval Skirmish in Ban try Bay - - - - 201
A Parliament summoned by James sits at Dublin - - 202
A Toleration Act passed ; Acts passed for the Confiscation of
the Property of Protestants - - - - 208
Issue of base Money - - - - - -214
The great Act of Attainder ----- 216
James prorogues his Parliament; Persecution of the Protes-
tants in Ireland ------ 220
Effect produced in England by the News from Ireland - 223
Actions of the Enniskilleners ----- 226
Distress of Londonderry ----- 227
Expedition under Kirke arrives in Loch Foyle - - 228
Cruelty of Rosen - - - - - - 229
The Famine in Londonderry extreme - - - 232
Attack on the Boom ------ 235
The Siege of Londonderry raised - - - - 237
Operations against the Enniskilleners - - - 241
Battle of Newton Butler - - - - - 243
Consternation of the Irish ----- 245
CHAPTER XnL
The Revolution more violent in Scotland than in England - 246
Elections for the Convention ; Rabbling of the Episcopal
Clergy 248
State of Edinburgh - - - - - - 252
Question of an Union between England and Scotland raised - 253
Wish of the English Low Churchmen to preserve Episcopacy
in Scotland ------ 258
Opinions of William about Church Government in Scotland - 259
A 3
VI CONTENTS.
Page
Comparative Strength of Religious Parties in Scotland - 261
Letter from William to the Scotch Convention - - 262
William's Instructions to his Agents in Scotland ; the Dal-
rymples ------- 263
Melville - - - - - - -266
James's Agents in Scotland : Dundee ; Balcarras - - 268
Meeting of the Convention - - - - - 271
Hamilton elected President ----- 273
Committee of Elections ; Edinburgh Castle summoned - 274
Dundee threatened hj the Covenanters - - - 275
Letter from James to the Convention - . - 277
Effect of James's Letter ----- 279
Flight of Dundee - - - - - - 280
Tumultuous Sitting of the Convention - - - 281
A Committee appointed to frame a Plan of Government - 283
Hesolutions proposed hj the Committee - - - 285
William and Mary proclaimed ; the Claim of Right ; Aboli-
tion of Episcopacy ----- 287
Torture ------- 289
William and Mary accept the Crown of Scotland - - 291
Discontent of the Covenanters - - - - 293
Ministerial Arrangements in Scotland - - . 294
Hamilton ; Crawford ------ 295
The Dalrymples ; Lockhart ; Montgomery - - - 296
Melville; Carstairs - - - - - - 297
The Club formed : Annandale ; Ross - - - - 298
Hume ; Fletcher of Saltoun - - - - - 299
War breaks out in the Highlands ; State of the Highlands - 300
Peculiar Nature of Jacobitism in the Highlands - - 313
Jealousy of the Ascendency of the Campbells - - 315
The Stewarts and Macnaghtens - - - - 318
The Macleans; theCamerons; Lochicl - - - 319
The Macdonalds ; Feud between the Macdonalds and Mack-
intoshes ; Inverness ----- 323
Inverness threatened by Macdonald of Keppoch - - 325
Dundee appears in Keppoch's Camp - - - - 326
Insurrection of the Clans hostile to the Campbells - - 330
Tarbet's Advice to the Government - - - - 332
Indecisive Campaign in the Highlands - - - 333
Military Character of the Highlanders - - . 334
Quarrels in the Highland Army - - - - 340
Dundee applies to James for Assistance; the War in the
Highlands suspended ----- 342
Scruples of the Covenanters about taking Arms for King
William - - - - - - - 343
CONTENTS. VU
Page
The Cameronian Regiment raised .... 344
Edinburgh Castle surrenders ----- 346
Session of Parliament at Edinburgh - - - . 347
Ascendency of the Club - - - - . 343
Troubles in Athol - - - - - - 351
The War breaks out ^ain in the Highlands - - - 354
Death of Dundee - - - - - - 362
Retreat of Mackay - - - - - - 363
Effect of the Battle of Killiccrankie ; the Scottish Parliament
adjourned .----- 365
The Highland Army reinforced .... 369
Skirmish at Saint Johnston's - - - - - 371
Disorders in the Highland Army - - - . 372
Mackay's Advice di. .'egarded by the Scotch Ministers - 373
The Cameronians stationed at Dunkeld ... 374
The Highlanders attack the Cameronians and are repulsed - 375
Dissolution of the Highland Army ; Intrigues of the Club ;
State of the Lowlands - - - - - 377
CHAPTER XIV.
Disputes in the English Parliament - - - . 379
The Attainder of Russell reversed ... - 380
Other Attainders reversed ; Case of Samuel Johnson - - 382
Case of Devonshire .--.-- 383
Case of Gates- - - - - - - 384
BiU of Rights- - - - - - - 393
Disputes about a Bill of Indemnity - - - - 396
Last Days of Jeffreys ----- 398
The Whigs dissatisfied with the King ... 404
Intemperance of Howe - ... - 405
Attack on Caermarthen . - - - - 406
Attack on Halifax - - - - - - 407
Preparations for a Campaign in Ireland - - - 410
Schomberg -----.- 412
Recess of the Parliament - - - - -414
State of Ireland ; Advice of Avaux - - - - 415
Dismission of Melfort ; Schomberg lands in Ulster - - 420
Carrickfergus taken - - - - - -421
Schomberg advances into Leinster; the English and Irish
Armies encamp near each other - - - - 422
Schomberg declines a Battle ----- 423
Frauds of the English Commissariat - - - - 424
Conspiracy among the French Troops in the English Service 426
Pestilence in the English Ai*my ... - 427
VIU CONTENTS.
Pago
The English and Irish Armies go into Winter Quarters - 430
Various Opinions about Schomberg's Conduct - - 431
Maritime Affairs ------ 432
Maladministration of Torrington .... 433
Continental Affairs ------ 435
Skirmish at Walcourt ----- 437
imputations thrown on Marlborough - - - - 438
Pope Innocent XL succeeded by Alexander VIII. - - 439
The High Church Clergy divided on the Subject of the Oaths 440
Arguments for taking the Oaths • - - - 441
Arguments against taking the Oaths • - - - 445
A great Majority of the Clergy take the Oaths - - 456
The Nonjurors ; Ken ------ 453
Leslie ------- 455
Sherlock --...-- 456
Hickos --..--. 458
CoUier 459
DodweU 461
Kettlewell ; Fitzwilliam - - - - - 463
Greneral Character of the Nonjuring Clergy - - - 464
The Plan of Comprehension ; Tillotson - - - 453
An Ecclesiastical Commission issued - - - - 470
Proceedings of the Commission - - - - 471
The Convocation of the Province of Canterbury summoned ;
Temper of the Clergy ----- 476
The Clergy ill affected towards the King - - - 477
The Clergy exasperated against the Dissenters by the Pro-
ceedings of the Scotch Presbyterians - - - 481
Constitution of the Convocation - - - - 433
Election of Members of Convocation ; Ecclesiastical Prefer-
ments bestowed ------ 485
Compton discontented ----- 487
The Convocation meets ----- 488
The High Churchmen a Majority of the Lower House of Con-
vocation ------- 489
Difference between the two Houses of Convocation - - 491
The Lower House of Convocation proves unmanageable - 492
The Convocation prorogued ----- 494
CHAPTER XV.
Tlie Parliament meets ; Retirement of Halifax - - 496
Supplies voted -----. 497
The Bill of Rights passed - - - - - 498
CONTENTS. IX
Page
Inquiry into Naval Abuses ----- 500
Inquiry into the Conduct of the Irish War - ' - - 601
Reception of Walker in England - - - - 503
Edmund Ludlow --.-•- 505
Violence of the Whigs - - - - - 509
Impeachments - - - - - -510
Committee of Murder - - - - -511
Malevolence of John Hampden • - - - 513
The Corporation Bill - - - - - - 517
Debates on the Indenmity Bill - . - - 523
Case of Sir Robert Sawyer ----- 524
The King purposes to retire to Holland . - - 528
He is induced to change his Intention ; the Whigs oppose his
going to Ireland ------ 530
He prorofijues the Parliament - - - - - 531
Joy of the Tories - - - - - - 533
Dissolution and Greneral Election - . - - 534
Changes in the Executive Departments . - - 537
Caermarthen Chief Minister ----- 538
Sir John Lowther ------ 540
Rise and Progress of Parliamentary Corruption in England - 541
Sir John Trevor ------ 547
Godolphin retires ; Changes at the Admiralty - ' - 549
Changes in the Commissions of Lieutenancy - - - 550
Temper of the Whigs ; Dealings of some Whigs with Saint
Germains; Shrewsbury; Ferguson - - - 553
H(^s of the Jacobites - ... - 555
Meeting of the new Parliament ; Settlement of the Revenue - 556
Provision for the Princess of Denmark . - - 559
Bill declaring the Acts of the preceding Parliament valid - 567
Debate on the Changes in the Lieutenancy - - - 569
Abjuration Bill - - - - - - 570
Act of Grace - - - - - - - 575
The Parliament prorogued ; Preparations for the first War - 579
Administration of James at Dublin - - - - 580
An auxiliary Force sent from France to Ireland - - 582
Plan of the English Jacobites ; Clarendon, Aylesbury, Dart-
mouth ------- 586
Penn 587
Preston - - - - - - - 588
The Jacobites betrayed by Fuller . - - - 590
Crone arrested - - - - - -591
Difficulties of William - - - - - 593
Conduct of Shrewsbury ----- 594
The Council of Nine - - - - - 597
/
HISTORY OF ENGLAm.
CHAPTER XL
The Revolution had been accompKshed. The decrees chap.
of the Convention were everywhere received with sub- ^^'
mission. London, true during fifty eventful years to ifiSQ.
the cause of civil freedom and of the reformed religion, wiiiiam
was foremost in professing loyalty to the new Sove- prociai^d
reigns. Garter King at arms, after making proclama- *** London,
tion under the windows of Whitehall, rode in state
along the Strand to Temple Bar. He was followed by
the maces of the two Houses, by the two Speakers, Hali-
fax and Powle, and by a long train of coaches filled
with noblemen and gentlemen. The magistrates of the
City threw open their gates and joined the procession.
Four regiments of militia lined the way up Ludgate
Hill, round Saint Paul's Cathedral, and along Cheapside.
The streets, the balconies, and the very housetops were
crowded with gazers. All the steeples from the Abbey
to the Tower sent forth a joyous din. The proclamation
was repeated, with sound of trumpet, in front of the
Royal Exchange, amidst the shouts of the citizens.
In the evening every window from Whitechapel to Pic-
cadilly was lighted up. The state rooms of the palace
were thrown open, and were filled by a gorgeous company
of courtiers desirous to kiss the hands of the King and
Queen. The Whigs assembled there, flushed with victory
and prosperity. There were among them some who
VOL. III. B
2 HigtOBT OF ENGLAND.
• ". • •*
*•.
might be pardoTa^'lf a vindictive feeling mingled with
their joy.^/Ihermost deeply injured of all who had sur-
1689. vived the.evil times was absent. Lady Russell, while
her 6ipnd3 were crowding the galleries of Whitehall^
T^jns^ed in her retreat, thinking of one who, if he had
/'•.'•becYi still living, would have held no undistinguished
•*..;.;•• place in the ceremonies of that great day. But her
.\l''' daughter, who had a few months before become the
•/• ' wife of Lord Cavendish, was presented to the royal pair
by his mother the Countess of Devonshire. A letter is
still extant in which the young lady described with great
vivacity the roar of the populace, the blaze in the streets,
the throng in the presence chamber, the beauty of Mary,
and the expression which ennobled and softened the
harsh features of William. But the most interesting
passage is that in which the orphan girl avowed the
stem delight with which she had witnessed the tardy
punishment of her father's murderer.*
Bejoicingi The example of London was followed by the provin-
^guS^"^ cial towns. During three weeks the Gazettes were filled
with accounts of the solemnities by which the public
joy manifested itself, cavalcades of gentlemen and yeo-
men, processions of Sheriffs and Bailiffs in scarlet gowns,
musters of zealous Protestants with orange flags and
ribands, salutes, bonfires, illuminations, music, balls,
dinners, gutters running with ale and conduits spouting
claret.f
Rejoicings Still morc cordial was the rejoicing among tl
.- «_„„j Dutch, when they learned that the first minister '
in Holland.
* Letter from Lady Cayendish to Lnttrdrs Diary, which I shall tc
Sylvia. Lady Cayendish, like most often quote, is in the library of J
of the clever girls of that genera- Souls' Coll^;e. I am greatly oblif
tion, had Scndery's romances always to the Warden for the kindness w
in her head. She is Dorinda: her which he allowed me access to
correspondent, supposed to be her valuable manuscript,
cousin Jane AUington, is Sylvia : t See the London Gazett
William is Ormanzor, and Mary Phe- February and March l6Sfj
nixana. London Gasette, Feb. 14. Narcisras Luttrell's Diary.
I68f ; Narcissus Luttrell's Diary.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 8
their Commonwealth had been raised to a throne. On cahp.
the very day of his accession he had written to assure
the States General that the change in his situation had 1689.
made no change in the affection which he bore to
his native land, and that his new dignity would, he
hoped, enable him to discharge his old duties more effi-
ciently than ever. That oligarchical party, which had
always been hostile to the doctrines of Calvin and to
the House of Orange, muttered faintly that His Majesty
ought to resign the Stadtholdership. But all such
mutterings were drowned by the acclamations of a
people proud of the genius and success of their great
countryman. A day of thanksgiving was appointed.
In all the cities of the Seven Provinces the public joy
manifested itself by festivities of which the expense was
chiefly defrayed by voluntary gifts. Every class assisted.
The poorest labourer could help to set up an arch of
triumph, or to bring sedge to a bonfire. Even the
ruined Huguenots of France could contribute the aid of
their ingenuity. One art which they had carried with
them into banishment was the art of making fireworks ;
and they now, in honour of the victorious champion of
their faith, lighted up the canals of Amsterdam with
showers of splendid constellations.*
To superficial observers it might well seem that
William was, at this time, one of the most enviable of
human beings. He was in truth one of the most
anxious and unhappy. He well knew that the diffi-
culties of his task were only beginning. Already that
dawn which had lately been so bright was overcast ;
and many signs portended a dark and stormy day.
It was observed that two important classes took little Discontent
or no part in the festivities by which, all over England, cteJ^and
the inauguration of the new government was celebrated, of the
* Wagenaar, Ixi. He quotes the April 11. 1689 ; Monthly Mercury
proceedings of the States of the 2nd for Aprils 1689.
of March^ l689. London Gazette^
B 2
4 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
cnAP. Very seldom could either a priest or a soldier be seen
XI. in the assemblages which gathered round the market
i^jjp. crosses where the King and Queen were proclaimed.
The professional pride both of the clergy and of the
army had been deeply wounded. The doctrine of non-
resistance had been dear to the Anglican divines. It
was their distinguishing badge. It was their favourite
theme. If we are to judge by that portion of their
oratory which has come down to us, they had preached
about the duty of passive obedience at least as often and
as zealously as about the Trinity or the Atonement.*
Their attachment to their political creed had indeed
been severely tried, and had, during a short time,
wavered. But with the tyranny of James the bitter
feeling which that tyranny had excited among them
had passed away. The parson of a parish was naturally
unwilling to join in what was really a triumph over
those principles which, during twenty eight years, his
flock had heard him proclaim on every anniversary of
the Martyrdom and on every anniversary of the Re-
storation.
The soldiers, too, were discontented. They hated
Popery indeed; and they had not loved the banished
King. But they keenly felt that, in the short campaign
which had decided the fate of their country, theirs had
been an inglorious part. Forty fine regiments, a re-
gular army such as had never before marched to battle
under the royal standard of England, had retreated
precipitately before an invader, and had then, without
a struggle, submitted to him. That great force had
been absolutely of no account in the late change, had
done nothing towards keeping William out, and had
• " I may be positive," says and 'tis hard to say whether Jesus
a writer who had been educated Christ or King Charles the First
at Westminster School, '* where I were oftener mentioned and magni-
heard one sermon of repentance, fied." Bisset's Modem Fanatick,
faith, and the renewing of the Holy 1710.
Ghost, I heard three of the other ;
WILLIAM AND MARY. O
done nothing towards bringing him in. The clowns, chap.
who, armed with pitchforks and mounted on carthorses, ^^'
had straggled in the train of Lovelace or Delamere, had 1689.
borne a greater part in the Revolution than those splen-
did household troops, whose plumed hats, embroidered
coats, and curvetting chargers the Londoners had so
often seen with admiration in Hyde Park. The morti-
fication of the army was increased by the taunts of the
foreigners, taunts which neither orders nor punishments
could entirely restrain.* At several places the anger
which a brave and highspirited body of men might, in
such circumstances, be expected to feel, showed itself in
an alarming manner. A battalion which lay at Ciren-
cester put out the bonfires, huzzaed for King James,
and drank confusion to his daughter and his nephew.
The garrison of Plymouth disturbed the rejoicings of
the County of Cornwall: blows were exchanged; and a
man was killed in the fray, f
The ill humour of the clergy and of the army could Reaction of
not but be noticed by the most heedless; for the clergy .p^I'^**^ ^*^^"
and the army were distinguished from other classes by
obvious peculiarities of garb. "Black coats and red
coats," said a vehement Whig in the House of Commons,
"are the curses of the nation." J But the discontent
was not confined to the black coats and the red coats.
The enthusiasm with which men of all classes had wel-
comed William to London at Christmas had greatly
abated before the close of February. The new king
had, at the very moment at which his fame and fortune
reached the highest point, predicted the coming reaction.
That reaction might, indeed, have been predicted by a
less sagacious observer of human afikirs. For it is to
be chiefly ascribed to a law as certain as the laws which
♦ Paris Gazette, ^£1^1689. Feb. 26. 168 J; Boscawens speech.
Orange Gazette, London,' Jan. 10. March J.; Narcissus Luttrell's Di-
168J, ^' I-'eb. 23—27.
f Grey's Debates ; Howes speech ; t Grey's Debates ; Feb. 26. 168|.
n 3
S HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, regulate the succession of the seasons and the course of
^^' the trade winds. It is the nature of man to overrate
1689. present evil, and to underrate present good; to long for
what he has not, and to be dissatisfied with what he has.
This propensity, as it appears in individuals, has often
been noticed both by laughing and by weeping philo-
sophers. It was a favourite theme of Horace and of
Pascal, of Voltaire and of Johnson. To its influence
on the fate of great communities may be ascribed most
of the revolutions and counterrevolutions recorded in
history. A hundred generations have elapsed since the
first great national emancipation, of which an account
has come down to us. We read in the most ancient of
books that a people bowed to the dust under a cruel
yoke, scourged to toil by hard taskmasters, not supplied
with straw, yet compeUed to furnish the daily tale of
bricks, became sick of life, and raised such a cry of
misery as pierced the heavens. The slaves were wonder-
fully set free: at the moment of their liberation they
raised a song of gratitude and triumph : but, in a few
hours, they began to regret their slavery, and to murmur
against the leader who had decoyed them away from the
savoury fare of the house of bondage to the dreary waste
which still separated them from the land flowing with
milk and honey. Since that time the history of every
great deliverer has been the history of Moses retold.
Down to the present hour rejoicings like those on the
shore of the Red Sea have ever been speedily followed
by murmurings like those at the Waters of Strife.* Th(
most just and salutary revolution must produce mucl
sufifering. The most just and salutary revolution canno
produce all the good that had been expected fi\)m i
* This illustration is repeated to murers. WilUam is Moses ; Co
satiety in sermons and pamphlets Dathan and Abiram, nonju
of the time of William the Third. Bishops ; Balaam^ I think, Dryc
There is a poor imitation of Absa- and Phinehas Shrewsbury,
lom and Ahitophel entitled the Mur-
WILLIAM AND MABY.
by men of uninstructed minds and sanguine tempers.
Even the wisest cannot, while it is still recent, weigh
quite fairly the evils which it has caused against the j^g^
evils which it has removed. For the evils which it has
caused are felt; and the evils which it has removed are
felt no longer.
Thus it was now in England. The public was, as
it always is during the cold fits which follow its hot
fits, sullen, hard to please, dissatisfied with itself, dis-
satisfied with those who had lately been its favourites.
The truce between the two great parties was at an
end. Separated by the memory of all that had been
done and suffered during a conflict of half a century,
they had been, during a few months, united by a com-
mon danger. But the danger was over: the union was
dissolved; and the old animosity broke forth again in
all its strength.
James had, during the last year of his reign, been Temper or
even more hated by the Tories than by the Whigs; and *^ ^****^
not without cause : for to the Whigs he was only an
enemy; and to the Tories he had been a faithless and
thankless friend. But the old royalist feeling, which
had seemed to be extinct in the time of his lawless
domination, had been partially revived by his mis-
fortunes. Many lords and gentlemen, who had, in
December, taken arms for the Prince of Orange and a
Free Parliament, muttered, two months later, that they
had been drawn in ; that they had trusted too much to
His Highness's Declaration; that they had given him
credit for a disinterestedness which, it now appeared,
was not in his nature. They had meant to put on
King James, for his own good, some gentle force, to
punish the Jesuits and renegades who had misled him,
to obtain from him some guarantee for the safety of
the civil and ecclesiastical institutions of the realm,
but not to uncrown and banish him. For his mal-
administration, gross as it had been, excuses were
B 4
8 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, found. Was it strange that^ driven from his native
^^ land, while still a boy, by rebels who were a disgrace
1689. to the Protestant name, and forced to pass his youtli
in countries where the Roman Catholic religion was
established, he should have been captivated by that
most attractive of all superstitions? Was it strange
that, persecuted and calumniated as he had been by an
implacable fax^tion, his disposition should have become
sterner and more severe than it had once been thought,
and that, when those who had tried to blast his honour
and to rob him of his birthright were at length in his
power, he should not have sufficiently tempered justice
with mercy? As to the worst charge which had been
brought against him, the charge of trying to cheat his
daughters out of their inheritance by fathering a sup-
posititious child, on what grounds did it rest? Merely
on slight circumstances, such as might well be imputed
to accident, or to that imprudence which was but too
much in harmony with his character. Did ever the
most stupid country justice put a boy in the stocks
without requiring stronger evidence than that on which
the English people had pronounced their King guilty of
the basest and most odious of all frauds? Some great
faults he had doubtless conmtdtted: nothing could be
more just or constitutional than that for those faults his
advisers and tools should be called to a severe reckoning ;
nor did any of those advisers and tools more richly
deserve punishment than the Roundhead sectaries whose
adulation had encouraged him to persist in the fatal
exercise of the dispensing power. It was a fundamental
law of the land that the King could do no wrong, and
that, if wrong were done by his authority, his coun-
sellors and agents were responsible. That great rule,
essential to our polity, was now inverted. The syco-
phants, who were legally punishable, enjoyed impunity :
the King, who was not legally punishable, was punished
with merciless severity. Was it possible for the Cavaliers
WILLIAM AND MARY. 5
of England, the sons of the warriors who had fought chap.
under Rupert, not to feel bitter sorrow and indignation ^^'
when they reflected on the fate of their rightful liege 1689.
lord, the heir of a long line of princes, lately enthroned
in splendour at Whitehall, now an exile, a suppliant, a
mendicant? His calamities had been greater than even
those of the Blessed Martyr from whom he sprang.
The father had been slain by avowed and mortal foes;
the ruin of the son had been the work of his own
children. Surely the punishment, even if deserved,
should have been inflicted by other hands. And was it
altogether deserved? Had not the unhappy man been
rather weak and rash than wicked? Had he not some
of the qualities of an excellent prince? His abilities
were certainly not of a high order : but he was diligent :
he was thrifty : he had fought bravely : he had been his
own minister for maritime afiairs, and had, in that
capacity, acquitted himself respectably: he had, till
his spiritual guides obtained a fatal ascendency over
his mind, been regarded as a man of strict justice;
and, to the last, when he was not misled by them, he
generally spoke truth and dealt fairly. With so many
virtues he might, if he had been a Protestant, nay, if he
had been a moderate Roman Catholic, have had a pros-
perous and glorious reign. Perhaps it might not be too
late for him to retrieve his errors. It was difficult to
believe that he could be so dull and perverse as not to
have profited by the terrible discipline which he had
recently undergone ; and, if that discipline had produced
the effects which might reasonably be expected from it,
England might still enjoy, under her legitimate ruler, a
larger measure of happiness and tranquillity than she
could expect from the administration of the best and
ablest usurper.
We should do great injustice to those who held this
language, if we supposed that they had, as a body,
ceased to regard Popery and despotism with abhorrence.
10 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Some zealots might indeed be found who could not
^^ bear the thought of imposing conditions on their
1689. King, and who were ready to recall him without the
smallest assurance that the Declaration of Indulgence
should not be instantly republished, that the High
Commission should not be instantly revived, that l^ctre
should not be again seated at the Council Board, and
that the fellows of Magdalene should not again be
ejected. But the number of these men was small. On
the other hand, the number of those Royalists, who, if
James would have acknowledged his mistakes and pro*
mised to observe the laws, were ready to rally round
him, was very large. It is a remarkable fact that two
able and experienced statesmen, who had borne a chief
part in the Revolution, frankly acknowledged, a few
days after the Revolution had been accomplished, their
apprehension that a Restoration was close at hand.
" If King James were a Protestant," said Halifax to
Reresby, " we could not keep him out four months." " If
King James," said Danby to the same person about the
same time, "would but give the country some satisfaction
about religion, which he might easily do, it would be
very hard to make head against him." * Happily for
England, James was, as usual, his own worst enemy.
No word indicating that he took blame to himself on
account of the past, or that he intended to govern
constitutionally for the future, could be extracted from
him. Every letter, every rumour, that found its way
from Saint Germains to England made men of sense
fear that, if, in his present temper, he should be restored
to power, the second tyranny would be worse than the
first. Thus the Tories, as a body, were forced to admit,
very unwillingly, that there was, at that moment, no
choice but between William and public ruin. They
therefore, without altogether relinquishing the hope that
* Rmsby's Memoirs.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 11
he who was King by right might at some fixture time chap.
be disposed to listen to reason, and without feeling any ^^
thing like loyalty towards him who was King in posses- 1^89.
sion, discontentedly endured the new government.
It may be doubted whether that government was not, Temper of
during the first months of its existence, in more danger *^® ^^e^
from the affection of the Whigs than from the disaffection
of the Tories. Enmity can hardly be more annoying
than querulous, jealous, exacting fondness ; and such was
the fondness which the Whigs felt for the Sovereign of
their choice. They were loud in his praise. They were
ready to support him with purse and sword against
foreign and domestic foes. But their attachment to him
was of a peculiar kind. Loyalty such as had animated
the gallant gentlemen who fought for Charles the First,
loyalty such as had rescued Charles the Second from the
fearful dangers and difficulties caused by twenty years
of maladministration, was not a sentiment to which the
doctrines of Milton and Sidney were favourable ; nor
was it a sentiment which a prince, just raised to power
by a rebellion, could hope to inspire. The Whig theory
of government is that kings exist for the people, and
not the people for the kings ; that the right of a king
is divine in no other sense than that in which the
right of a member of parliament, of a judge, of a jury-
man, of a mayor, of a headborough, is divine ; that,
while the chief magistrate governs according to law,
he ought to be obeyed and reverenced ; that, when he
violates the law, he ought to be withstood ; and that,
xwhen he violates the law grossly, systematically and
pertinaciously, he ought to be deposed. On the truth
of these principles depended the justice of William's
title to the throne. It is obvious that the relation
between subjects who held these principles, and a ruler
whose accession had been the triumph of these principles,
must have been altogether different from the relation
which had subsisted between the Stuarts and the Cava-
12 III8T0BT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, liers. The Whigs loved William indeed : but they loved
_^ll_ him not as a King, but as a party leader; and it was
1689. not difficult to foresee that their enthusiasm would cool
fast if he should refuse to be the mere leader of their
party, and should attempt to be King of the whole nation.
A\Tiat they expected from him in return for their de-
votion to his cause was that he should be one of them-
selves, a stanch and ardent Whig; that he should
show favour to none but Whigs ; that he should make
all the old grudges of the Whigs his own ; and there
was but too much reason to apprehend that, if he
disappointed this expectation, the only section of the
community which was zealous in his cause would be
estranged from him.*
Such were the difficulties by which, at the moment of
his elevation, he found himself beset. Where there was
a good path he had seldom failed to choose it. But now
he had only a choice among paths every one of which
seemed likely to lead to destruction. From one faction
he could hope for no cordial support. The cordial sup-
port of the other faction he could retain only by be-
coming himself the most factious man in his kingdom, a
Shaftesbury on the throne. If he persecuted the Tories,
their sulkiness would infallibly be turned into fury. If
he showed favour to the Tories, it was by no means
certain that he would gain their goodwill ; and it was
but too probable that he might lose his hold on the
hearts of the Whigs. Something however he must do :
something he must risk : a Privy Council must be
sworn in : all the great offices, political and judicial,
must be filled. It was impossible to make an arrange-
• Here, and in many other places, of William the Third, have heen
I abstain from citing authorities, derived, not from any single work,
because my authorities are too nu- but from thousands of forgotten
merous to cite. My notions of the tracts, sermons, and satires ; in fact
temper and relative position of poll- from a whole literature which is
tical and religious parties in the reign mouldering in old libraries.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 13
ment that would please every body, and difficult to chap.
make an arrangement that would please any body ; but ^^'
an arrangement must be made. 1689.
What is now called a ministry he did not think of Ministerial
forming. Indeed what is now called a ministry was never SS^'
known in England till he had been some years on the
throne. Under the Plantagenets, the Tudors, and the
Stuarts, there had been ministers; but there had been
no ministry. The servants of the Crown were not, as
now, bound in frankpledge for each other. They were not
expected to be of the same opinion even on questions of
the gravest importance. Often they were politically
and personally hostile to each other, and made no secret
of their hostiUty. It was not yet felt to be inconvenient
or unseemly that they should accuse each other of high
crimes, and demand each other's heads. No man had
been more active in the impeachment of the Lord
Chancellor Clarendon than Coventry, who was a Com-
missioner of the Treasury. No man had been more
active in the impeachment of the Lord Treasurer
Danby than Wilmington, who was Solicitor General.
Among the members of the Government there was only
one point of union, their common head, the Sovereign.
The nation considered him as the proper chief of
the administration, and blamed him severely if he
delegated his high functions to any subject. Claren-
don has told us that nothing was so hateful to the
Englishmen of his time as a Prime Minister. They
would rather, he said, be subject to an usurper like
Oliver, who was first magistrate in fact as well as in
name, than to a legitimate King who referred them to
a Grand Vizier. One of the chief accusations which
the country party had brought againt Charles the
Second was that he was too indolent and too fond of
pleasure to examine with care the balance sheets of
public accountants and the inventories of military stores.
James, when he came to the crown, had determined to
14 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, appoint no Lord High Admiral or Board of Admiralty,
^^' and to keep the entire direction of maritime affitirs in
1689. his own hands; and this arrangement, which would
now be thought by men of all parties unconstitutional
and pernicious in the highest degree, was then gene-
rally applauded even by people who were not inclined
to see his conduct in a favourable light. How com-
pletely the relation in which the King stood to his
Parliament and to his ministers had been altered by
the Revolution was not at first understood even by the
most enlightened statesmen. It was universally sup-
posed that the government would, as in time past, be
conducted by functionaries independent of each other,
and that William would exercise a general superinten-
dence over them all. It was also fully expected that
a prince of William's capacity and experience would
transact much important business without having re-
course to any adviser.
William There were therefore no complaints when it was
mb^^'* understood that he had reserved to himself the direc-
foreign tioH of foreign affairs. This was indeed scarcely mat*
•^"" ter of choice : for, with the single exception of Sir
William Temple, whom nothing would induce to quit
his retreat for public life, there was no Englishman
who had proved himself capable of conducting an im-
portant negotiation with foreign powers to a successful
and honourable issue. Many years had elapsed since
England had interfered with weight and dignity in the
affairs of the great commonwealth of nations. The at-
tention of the ablest English politicians had long been
almost exclusively occupied by disputes concerning the
civil and ecclesiastical constitution of their own country.
The contests about the Popish Plot and the Exclusion
Bill, the Habeas Corpus Act and the Test Act, had
produced an abundance, it might almost be said a glut,
of those talents which raise men to eminence in societies
torn by internal factions. All the Continent could not
WILLIAM AND MARY. 15
show such skilful and wary leaders of parties, such dex- chap.
terous parliamentary tacticians, such ready and eloquent ^^
debaters, as were assembled at Westminster. But a 1689.
very different training was necessary to form a great
minister for foreign affairs ; and the Revolution had on
a sudden placed England in a situation in which the
services of a great minister for foreign affairs were in-
dispensable to her.
William was admirably qualified to supply that in
which the most accomplished statesmen of his kingdom
were deficient. He had long been preeminently dis-
tinguished as a negotiator. He was the author and
the soul of the European coalition against the French
ascendency. The clue, without which it was perilous
to enter the vast and intricate maze of Continental
politics, was in his hands. His English counsellors,
therefore, however able and active, seldom, during his
reign, ventured to meddle with that part of the public
business which he had taken as his peculiar province.*
The internal government of England could be carried
on only by the advice and agency of English ministers.
Those ministers William selected in such a manner as
showed that he was determined not to proscribe any set
of men who were willing to support his throne. On
the day after the crown had been presented to him in
the Banqueting House, the Privy Council was sworn in.
Most of the Councillors were Whigs ; but the names of
several eminent Tories appeared in the list.f The four
highest offices in the state were assigned to four noble-
men, the representatives of four classes of politicians.
In practical ability and official experience Danby had Dauby.
no superior among bis contemporaries. To the grati-
tude of the new Sovereigns he had a strong claim ; for
♦ The following passage in a tract honour to him to be told his rela-
of that time expresses the general tion to us, the nature of it^ and what
opinion. " He has better knowledge is fit for him to do." — An Honest
of foreign affairs than we have ; but Commoner's Speech,
in English business it is no dis- I London Gazette, Feb. 18. 1 68 1.
16 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, it waa by his dexterity that their marriage had been
^^ brought about in spite of difficulties which had seemed
1689. insuperable. The enmity which he had always borne
to France was a scarcely less powerful recommendation.
He had signed the invitation of the thirtieth of June,
had excited and directed the northern insurrection, and
had, in the Convention, exerted all his influence and elo*
quence in opposition to the scheme of Regency. Yet
the Whigs regarded him with unconquerable distrust
and aversion. They could not forget that he had, in
evil days, been the first minister of the state, the head
of the Cavaliers, the champion of prerogative, the per-
secutor of dissenters. Even in becoming a rebel, he
had not ceased to be a Tory. If he had drawn the
sword against the Crown, he had drawn it only in defence
of the Church. If he had, in the Convention, done
good by opposing the scheme of Regency, he had
done harm by obstinately maintaining that the throne
was not vacant, and that the Estates had no right
to determine who should fill it. The Whigs were
therefore of opinion that he ought to think himself
amply rewarded for his recent merits by being suffered
to escape the punishment of those offences for which
he had been impeached ten years before. He, on the
other hand, estimated his own abilities and services,
which were doubtless considerable, at their full value,
and thought himself entitled to the great place of Lord
High Treasurer, which he had formerly held. But he
was disappointed. William, on principle, thought it
desirable to divide the power and patronage of the
Treasury among several Commissioners. He was the
first English King who never, from the beginning to the
end of his reign, trusted the white staff in the hands
of a single subject. Danby was offered his choice
between the Presidency of the Council and a Secretary-
ship of State. He sullenly accepted the Presidency,
and, while the Whigs murmured at seeing him placed
WILLIAM AND MABY. 17
SO liigh, hardly attempted to conceal his anger at not chap.
having been placed higher.* ^^
HaUfax, the most illustrious man of that small party 1689.
which boasted that it kept the balance even between Halifax.
Whigs and Tories, took charge of the Privy Seal, and
continued to be Speaker of the House of Lords.f He
had been foremost in strictly legal opposition to the
late Government, and had spoken and written with
great ability against the dispensing power : but he had
refused to know any thing about the design of invasion :
he had laboured, even when the Dutch were in full
inarch towards London, to effect a reconciliation ; and
he had never deserted James till James had deserted
the throne. But, from the moment of that shameful
flight, the sagacious Trimmer, convinced that com-
promise was thenceforth impossible, had taken a de-
cided part. He had distinguished himself preeminently
in the Convention : nor was it without a peculiar
propriety that he had been appointed to the honour-
able office of tendering the crown, in the name of all
the Estates of England, to the Prince and Princess of
Orange; for our Revolution, as far as it can be said to
bear the character of any single mind, assuredly bears
the character of the large yet cautious mind of Halifax.
The Whigs, however, were not in a temper to accept a
recent service as an atonement for an old offence ; and
the offence of Halifax had been grave indeed. He had
long before been conspicuous in their front rank during
a hard fight for liberty. When they were at length
victorious, when it seemed that Whitehall was at their
mercy, when they had a near prospect of dominion
and revenge, he had changed sides ; and fortune had
changed sides with him. In the great debate on the
Exclusion Bill, his eloquence had struck them dumb,
and had put new life into the inert and desponding
* London Gazette, Feb. 18. l68f ; f London Gazette, Feb. 18. l68f ;
Sir J. Rereaby'a Memoirs. Lorda' Journals.
VOL. ra. C
18 HISTORY OF ENGLANTU
CHAP, party of the Court. It was true that, though he
had left them in the day of their insolent prosperity,
1689. he had returned to them in the day of their distress.
But, now that their distress was over, they forgot
that he had returned to them, and remembered only
that he had left them.*
Notting. The vexation with which they saw Danby presiding
in the Council, and Halifax bearing the Privy Seal, was
not diminished by the news that Nottingham was
appointed Secretary of State. Some of those zealous
churchmen who had never ceased to profess the doctrine
of nonresistance, who thought the Revolution unjusti-
fiable, who had voted for a Regency, and who had to
the last maintained that the English throne could never
be one moment vacant, yet conceived it to be their duty
to submit to the decision of the Convention. They
had not, they said, rebelled against James. They had
not selected William. But, now that they saw on the
throne a Sovereign whom they never would have placed
there, they were of opinion that no law, divine or hu-
man, bound them to carry the contest further. They
thought that they found, both in the Bible and in the
Statute Book, directions which could not be misunder-
stood. The Bible enjoins obedience to the powers that
be. The Statute Book contains an act providing that
no subject shall be deemed a wrongdoer for adhering
to the King in possession. On these grounds many,
who had not cpncurred in setting up the new govern-
ment, believed that they might give it their support
without ofience to Grod or man. One of the most
eminent politicians of this school was Nottingham. At
his instance the Convention had, before the throne was
filled, made such changes in the oath of allegiance as
enabled him and those who agreed with him to take
that oath without scruple. " My principles," he said,
• Burnet, ii. 4.
WILLIAM AND MARY.
19
CHAP.
XL
1689.
" do not permit me to bear any part in making a King.
But when a King has been made, my principles bind
me to pay him an obedience more strict than he can
expect from those who have made him." He now, to
the surprise of some of those who most esteemed him,
consented to sit in the council, and to accept the seals
of Secretary. William doubtless hoped that this ap-
pointment would be considered by the clergy and the
Tory country gentlemen as a sufficient guarantee that
no evil was meditated against the Church. Even
Burnet, who at a later period felt a strong antipathy
to Nottingham, owned, in some memoirs written soon
after the Revolution, that the King had judged well,
and that the influence of the Tory Secretary, honestly
exerted in support of the new Sovereigns, had saved
England from great calamities.*
The other Secretary was Shrewsbury.f No man so Shrewa-
young had within living memory occupied so high a ^°'^'
post in the government. He had but just completed
his twenty eighth year. Nobody, however, except the
solemn formalists at the Spanish embassy, thought his
youth an objection to his promotion.J He had already
* These merooin will be found in
a manuscript volume, which is part
of the Harleian Collection^ and is
numbered 6584. They are, in fact,
the first outlines of a great part of
Burnet's History of His Own Times.
The dates at which the different
portions of this roost curious and
interesting book were composed are
marked. Almost the whole was
written before the death of Mary.
Burnet did not begin to prepare
his History of William's reign for
the press till ten years later. By
that time his opinions^ both of men
and of things, had undergone great
changes. The value of the rough
draught is therefore very great: for
it contains some facts which he
afterwards thought it advisable to
suppress, and some judgments which
be afterwards saw cause to alter. I
must own that I generally like his
first thoughts best. Whenever his
History is reprinted, it ought to be
carefully collated with this volume.
When I refer to the Burnet MS.
HarL 6584^ I wish the reader to
understand that the MS. contains
something which is not to be found
in the History.
As to Nottingham's appointment^
see Burnet^ iL 8 ; the London Ga«
zette of March 7. I68f ; md Cla-
rendon's Diary of Feb. 15.
t London Gazette, Feb. 18. l68g.
^ Don Pedro de Ronquillo makes
this objection.
e 2
20 mSTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, secured for himself a place in history by the conspi-
^^ cuous part which he had taken in the deliverance
1689. of his country. His talents, his accomplishments, his
graceful manners, his bland temper, made him gene-
rally popular. By the Whigs especially he was almost
adored. None suspected that, with many great and
many amiable qualities, he had such faults both of head
and of heart as would make the rest of a life which
had opened under the fairest auspices burdensome to
himself and almost useless to his country.
The Board The naval administration and the financial admini-
raity. ' stratiou were confided to Boards. Herbert was First
Commissioner of the Admiralty. He had in the late
reign given up wealth and dignities when he found
that he could not retain them with honour and with a
good conscience. He had carried the memorable in-
vitation to the Hague. He had commanded the Dutch
fleet during the voyage from Helvoetsluys to Torbay.
His character for courage and professional skill stood
high. That he had had his follies and vices was
well known. But his recent conduct in the time of
severe trial had atoned for all, and seemed to warrant
the hope that his future career would be glorious.
Among the commissioners who sate with him at the
Admiralty were two distinguished members of the
House of Commons, William Sacheverell, a veteran
Whig, who had great authority in his party, and Sir
John Lowther, an honest and very moderate Tory, who
in fortune and parliamentary interest was among the
first of the English gentry.*
The Board Mordaunt, oue of the most vehement of the Whigs, was
wrj!**" placed at the head of the Treasury ; why, it is difficult
to say. His romantic courage, his flighty wit, his eccen-
tric invention, his love of desperate risks and startling
efiects, were not qualities likely to be of much use to
him in financial calculations and negotiations. Delamere,
* London Gazette, March 11. l68|.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 21
a more vehement Whig, if possible, than Mordaunt, chap.
sate second at the board, and was Chancellor of the Ex-
chequer. Two Whig members of the House of Commons i^S9-
were in the Commission, Sir Henry Capel, brother of that
Earl of Essex who died by his own hand in the Tower,
and Richard Hampden, son of the great leader of the
Long Parliament. But the Commissioner on whom the
chief weight of business lay was Godolphin. This man,
taciturn, clearminded, laborious, inoffensive, zealous
for no government and useful to every government,
had gradually become an almost indispensable part of
the machinery of the state. Though a churchman, he
had prospered in a Court governed by Jesuits. Though
he had voted for a Regency, he was the real head of a
treasury filled with Whigs. His abilities and know-
ledge, which had in the late reign supplied the defi-
ciencies of Bellasyse and Dover, were now needed to
supply the deficiencies of Mordaunt and Delamere.*
There were some difficulties in disposing of the The Great
Great Seal. The King at first wished to confide it to ®**^
Nottingham, whose father had borne it during several
years with high reputation, f Nottingham, however,
declined the trust ; and it was offered to Halifax, but
was again declined. Both these Lords doubtless felt
that it was a trust which they could not discharge with
honour to themselves or with advantage to the public.
In old times, indeed, the Seal had been generally held
by persons who were not lawyers. Even in the seven-
teenth century it had been confided to two eminent
men, who had never studied at any Inn of Court.
Dean Williams had been Lord Keeper to James the
First. Shaftesbury had been Lord Chancellor to
* London Gazette, March 11. the Great Seal. Compare Barnet,
168|. ii. 3., and Boyer's History of Wil-
t I have followed what seems to liam, 1 702. Narcissus Iiuttrell re-
me the most prohahle story. But it peatedly, and even as late as the
has been doubted whether Notting« close of 1692^ speaks of Nottingham
ham was invited to be Chancellor^ as likely to be Chancellor,
or only to be First Commissioner of
c 3
22 HI8T0BT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Charles the Second. But such appointments could no
L. longer be made without serious inconvenience. Equity
i^^9- had been gradually shaping itself into a refined science,
which no human £Eu;ulties could master without long
and intense application. Even Shaftesbury, vigorous
as was his intellect, had painfully felt his want of
technical knowledge* ; and, during the fifteen years
which had elaps^ since Shaftesbury had resigned
the Seal, technical knowledge had constantly been be-
coming more and more necessary to his successors.
Neither Nottingham therefore, though he had a stock
of legal learning such as is rarely found in any person
who has not received a legal education, nor Halifax,
though, in the judicial sittings of the House of Lords,
the quickness of his apprehension and the subtlety of
his reasoning had often astonished the bar, ventured
to accept the highest office which an English layman
can fiU. After some delay the Seal was confided to a
commission of eminent lawyers, with Ma3aiard at their
head.f
The The choice of Judges did honour to the new govem-
"^^"* ment. Every Privy Councillor was directed to bring a
list. The lists were compared ; and twelve men of
conspicuous merit were selected-J The professional
attainments and Whig principles of Pollexfen gave him
pretensions to the highest place. But it was r^nem-
bered that he had held briefs for the Crown, in the
AVestem counties, at the assizes which followed the
battle of Sedgemoor. It seems indeed from the reports
of the trials that he did as little as he could do if he
held the briefs at all, and that he left to the Judges
the business of browbeating witnesses and prisoners.
Nevertheless his name was inseparably associated in the
public mind with the Bloody Circuit. He, therefore,
* Roger North relates an amasing + London Gazette, March 4.168}*
story about Shaftesbury's embarrass- ^ Burnet, ii. 5.
ments.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 23
could not with propriety be put at the head of the first chap.
criminal court in the realm.* After acting during a
few weeks as Attorney General, he was made Chief ^^^S-
Justice of the Common Pleas. Sir John Holt, a young
man, but distinguished by learning, integrity, and
courage, became Chief Justice of the King's Bench.
Sir Robert Atkyns, an eminent lawyer, who had passed
some years in rural retirement, but whose reputation
was still great in Westminster Hall, was appointed
Chief Baron. Powell, who had been disgraced on
account of his honest declaration in favour of the
Bishops, again took his seat among the Judges. Treby
succeeded PoUexfen as Attorney General ; and Somers
was made Solicitor.f
Two of the chief places in the Royal household were The house-
filled by two English noblemen eminently qualified to ^^^
adorn a court. The high spirited and accomplished
Devonshire was named Lord Steward. No man had
done more or risked more for England during the crisis
of her fate. In retrieving her liberties he had retrieved
also the fortunes of his own house. His bond for
thirty thousand pounds was found among the papers
which James had left at Whitehall, and was cancelled
by William.J
Dorset became Lord Chamberlain, and employed the
influence and patronage annexed to his functions, as he
had long employed his private means, in encouraging
genius and in alleviating misfortune. One of the first
acts which he was under the necessity of performing
must have been painful to a man of so generous a
nature, and of so keen a relish for whatever was ex-
cellent in arts and letters. Dryden could no longer
♦ The Protestant Mask taken off were made earlier,
from the Jesuited Englishman, I692, X Kennet's Funeral Sermon on
t These appointments were not the first Duke of Devonshire, and
announced in the Gazette till the Memoirs of the Family of Caven-
6th of May; but some of them dish, 1708.
0 4
24 UISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, remain Poet Laureate. The public would not have
^^' borne to see any Papist among the servants of their
1689. Majesties ; and Dry den was not only a Papist, but an
apostate. He had moreover aggravated the guilt of his
apostasy by calumniating and ridiculing the Church
which he had deserted. He had, it was facetiously
said, treated her as the Pagan persecutors of old
treated her children. He had dressed her up in the
skin of a wild beast, and then baited her for the public
amusement.* He was removed ; but he received from
the private bounty of the magnificent Chamberlain a
pension equal to the salary which had been withdrawn.
The deposed Laureate, however, as poor of spirit as rich
in intellectual gifts, continued to complain piteously,
year after year, of the losses which he had not suffered,
till at length his wailings drew forth expressions of
well merited contempt from brave and honest Jaco-
bites, who had sacrificed every thing to their principles
without deigning to utter one word of deprecation
or lamentation.f
In the Royal household were placed some of those
Dutch nobles who stood highest in the favour of the
King. Bentinck had the great office of Groom of the
Stole, with a salary of five thousand pounds a year.
Zulestein took charge of the robes. The Master of the
Horse was Auverquerque, a gallant soldier, who united
• See a poem entitled, A Votive " The poeU' nation did obMquions wait
rn 1.1 * . *u rr: -« 1 f\,.^^ ^^^ the kind dole divided at hii gate.
1 ablet to the King and Queen. La„^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^j* ^p.^
t See Priors DedicaUon of his peared, I
PoeiDB to Dorset's son and successor, An old, revolted, unhelieyiiig l»rd, V
,-.,,« _ Q.*.:«^ ^.« Who thronj^ and shored, and pressed, I
and Dryden's Essay on Satire pre- ^^ would li heard. J
fixetl to the Translations from Ju- ^^y^ ^^^ ,^^ ^^^ M,^^. ^^^ ^^
venaL There is a bitter sneer on With endless cries, and endless songs h«
Dryden's effeminate querulousness «>ng. , , v ii-^
• >-. 11- » at -* "tr: .\.r *i,« a*.»^ To bless good Salul Lanrus would be first ;
in Collier s Short View of the SUge. jj„j g^jf., ^^^ ^^ ^^y^ q^ ^^ ^„^
In Blackmore's Prince Arthur, a Sakil without distinction threw his bread,
poem which, worthless as it is, con- Despised the flatterer, but the poet fed."
tains some curious allusions to con- I need not say that Sakil is Sack,
temporary men and events, are the Tille, or that Laurus is a translation
following lines : of the famous nickname Baycs.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 25
the blood of Nassau to the blood of Horn, and who chap.
wore with just pride a costly sword presented to him ^^'
by the States Greneral in acknowledgment of the courage 1689.
with which he had, on the bloody day of Saint Dennis,
saved the life of William.
The place of Vice Chamberlain to the Queen was
given to a man who had just become conspicuous in
public life, and whose name will frequently recur in the
history of this reign. John Howe, or, as he was more
commonly called, Jack Howe, had been sent up to the
Convention by the borough of Cirencester. His ap-
pearance was that of a man whose body was worn by
the constant workings of a restless and acrid mind.
He was tall, lean, pale, with a haggard eager look, ex-
pressive at once of flightiness and of shrewdness. He
had been known, during several years, as a small poet ;
and some of the most savage lampoons which were
handed about the coffeehouses were imputed to him.
But it was in the House of Commons that both his
parts and his illnature were most signally displayed.
Before he had been a member three weeks, his volu-
bility, his asperity, and his pertinacity had made him
conspicuous. Quickness, energy, and audacity, united,
soon raised him to the rank of a privileged man. His
enemies, — and he had many enemies, — said that he
consulted his personal safety even in his most petulant
moods, and that he treated soldiers with a civility
which he never showed to ladies or to Bishops. But
no man had in larger measure that evil courage which
braves and even courts disgust and hatred. No de-
cencies restrained him : his spite was implacable : his
skill in finding out the vulnerable parts of strong minds
was consummate. All his great contemporaries felt his
sting in their turns. Once it inflicted a wound which
deranged even the stem composure of William, and
constrained him to utter a wish that he were a pri-
vate gentleman, and could invite Mr. Howe to a short
2G UISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, interview behind Montague House. As yet, however,
— '-. Howe was reckoned among the most strenuous sup-
1689. porters of the new government, and directed all his
sarcasms and invectives against the malecontents.*
Subordi- The subordinate places in every public office were
^iSt-^ divided between the two parties : but the AMiigs had
™ent«. the larger share. Some persons, indeed, who did little
honour to the Whig name, were largely recompensed for
services which no good man would have performed.
Wildman was made Postmaster General. A lucrative
sinecure in the Excise was bestowed on Ferguson. The
duties of the Solicitor of the Treasury were both very
important and very invidious. It was the business of
that officer to conduct political prosecutions, to coUect
the evidence, to instruct the counsel for the Crown, to
sec that the prisoners were not liberated on insufficient
bail, to see that the juries were not composed of persons
hostile to the government. In the days of Charles and
James, the Solicitors of the Treasury had been with
too much reason accused of employing all the vilest
artifices of chicanery against men obnoxious to the
Court. The new government ought to have made a
choice which was above all suspicion. Unfortunately
Mordaunt and Delamere pitched upon Aaron Smith, an
acrimonious and unprincipled politician, who had been
the legal adviser of Titus Oates in the days of the Popish
Plot, and who had been deeply implicated in the Rye
House Plot. Kichard Hampden, a man of decided
opinions but of moderate temper, objected to this ap-
pointment. His objections however were overruled.
* Scarcely any man of that age never seen except in manuacripty
is more frequently mentioned in are the following lines :
pamphlets and saUrcs than Howe. ^^.^ ^^^ j^^^ ^^^^
In the famous petition of I^egion, talent, i«nuie
he is designated as " that impudent Happy the female that scapes his
scandal of P.rlian,enU." Mackay's a JnTtT."lidie. .xc..rivolvv.Ii.„..
account of him is curious. In a But very respectful to a Dragoon."
poem written in 1()90, which I have
WILLIAM AND MARY. 27
The Jacobites, who hated Smith and had reason to hate chap
him, affirmed that he had obtained his place by bullying L
the Lords of the Treasury, and particularly by threat- ^^^9
ening that, if his just claims were disregarded, he would
be the death of Hampden.*
Some weeks elapsed before all the arrangements TheCon-
which have been mentioned were publicly announced : tamSTinto
and meanwhile many important events had taken place. • Pari^*-
As soon as the new Privy Councillors had been sworn
in, it was necessary to submit to them a grave and
pressing question. Could the Convention now as-
sembled be turned into a Parliament? The Whigs,
who had a decided majority in the Lower House, were
all for the affirmative. The Tories, who knew that,
within the last month, the public feeling had under-
gone a considerable change, and who hoped that a
general election would add to their strength, were
for the negative. They maintained that to the exist-
ence of a Parliament royal writs were indispensably
necessary. The Convention had not been summoned
by such writs: the original defect could not now be
supplied: the Houses were therefore mere clubs of
private men, and ought instantly to disperse.
It was answered that the royal writ was mere matter
of form, and that to expose the substance of our laws
and liberties to serious hazard for the sake of a form
would be the most senseless superstition. Wherever
the Sovereign, the Peers spiritual and temporal, and
the Representatives freely chosen by the constituent
bodies of the realm were met together, there was the
essence of a Parliament. Such a Parliament was now
in being; and what could be more absurd than to
dissolve it at a conjuncture when every hour was
precious, when numerous important subjects required
immediate legislation, and when dangers, only to be
• Sprat's True Account; North's Holt, 1()94; Letter to Secretary
Examen; Letter to Chief Justice Trcnchard, 1694.
28 HISTOHY OF ENQLAKD.
CHAP, averted by the combined eflfbrts of King, Lords, and
Commons, menaced the State ? A Jacobite indeed
1689. might consistently refuse to recognise the Convention
as a Parliament. For he held that it had from the
beginning been an unlawfiil assembly, that all its reso-
lutions were nullities, and that the Sovereigns whom it
had set up were usurpers. But with what consistency
could any man, who maintained that a new Parliament
ought to be immediately called by -writs under the
great seal of William and Mary, question the authority
which had placed William and Mary on the throne ?
Those who held that William was rightful King must
necessarily hold that the body from which he derived
his right was itself a rightful Great Council of the
Kcalm. Those who, though not holding him to be
rightful King, conceived that they might lawfully
swear allegiance to him as King in fact^ might surely,
on the same principle, acknowledge the Convention as
a Parliament in fact. It was plain that the Convention
was the fountainhead from which the authority of all
future Parliaments must be derived, and that on the
validity of the votes of the Convention must depend
the validity of every future statute. And how could
the stream rise higher than the source? Was it not
absurd to say that the Convention was supreme in the
state, and yet a nullity ; a legislature for the highest
of all purposes, and yet no legislature for the humblest
purposes ; competent to declare the throne vacant, to
change the succession, to fix the landmarks of the
constitution, and yet not competent to pass the most
trivial Act for the repairing of a pier or the building of
a parish church ?
These arguments would have had considerable weight,
even if every precedent had been on the other side.
But in truth our history afforded only one precedent
which was at all in point ; and that precedent was de-
cisive in favour of the doctrine that royal writs are not
WILLIAM AND MABT. 29
indispensably necessary to the existence of a Parliament, chap.
No royal writ had summoned the CJonvention which ^^
recalled Charles the Second. Yet that CJonvention had, 1689.
after his Restoration, continued to sit and to legislate,
had settled the revenue, had passed an Act of amnesty,
had abolished the feudal tenures. These proceedings
had been sanctioned by authority of which no party in
the state could speak without reverence. Hale had
borne a considerable share in them, and had always
maintained that they were strictly legal. Clarendon,
little as he was inclined to favour any doctrine deroga-
tory to the rights of the Crown, or to the dignity of
that seal of which he was keeper, had declar^ iJiat,
since God had, at a most critical conjuncture, given the
nation a good Parliament, it would be the height of
fojly to look for technical flaws in the instrument by
which that Parliament was called together. Would it
be pretended by any Tory that the Convention of 1660
had a more respectable origin than the Convention of
1689 ? Was not a letter written by the first Prince of
the Blood, at the request of the whole peerage, and
of hundreds of gentlemen who had represented counties
and towns, at least as good a warrant as a vote of the
Rump ?
Weaker reasons than these would have satisfied the
Whigs who formed the majority of the Privy Council.
The King therefore, on the fifth day after he had been
proclaimed, went with royal state to the House of
Lords, and took his seat on the throne. The Commons
were called in ; and he, with many gracious expressions,
reminded his hearers of the penlous situation of the
country, and exhorted them to take such steps as might
prevent unnecessary delay in the transaction of public
business. His speech was received by the gentlemen
who crowded the bar with the deep hum by which our
ancestors were wont to indicate approbation, and which
was often heard in places more sacred than the Chamber
30 mSTORT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, of the Peers.* As soon as he had retired, a Bill de-
daring the Convention a Parliament was laid on the
1^89- table of the Lords, and rapidly passed by them. In the
Commons the debates were warm. The House resolved
itself into a Committee ; and so great was the excitement
that, when the authority of the Speaker was withdrawn,
it was hardly possible to preserve order. Sharp per-
sonalities were exchanged. The phrase, " hear him," a
phrase which had originally been used only to silence
irregular noises, and to remind members of the duty of
attending to the discussion, had, during some years, been
gradually becoming what it now is ; that is to say, a cry
indicative, according to the tone, of admiration, acqui-
escence, indignation, or derision. On this occasion,
the Whigs vociferated " Hear, hear," so tumultuously
that the Tories complained of unfair usage. Seymour,
the leader of the minority, declared that there could be
no freedom of debate while such clamour was tolerated.
Some old Whig members were provoked into reminding
him that the same clamour had occasionally been heard
when he presided, and had not then been repressed.
Yet, eager and angry as both sides were, the speeches
on both sides indicated that profound reverence for law
and prescription which has long been characteristic of
Englishmen, and which, though it runs sometimes into
pedantry and sometimes into superstition, is not without
its advantages. Even at that momentous crisis, when the
nation was still in the ferment of a revolution, our public
men talked long and seriously about all the circumstances
of the deposition of Edward the Second and of the depo-
sition of Richard the Second, and anxiously inquired
whether the assembly which, with Archbishop Lanfranc
at its head, set aside Robert of Normandy, and put
William Rufiis on the throne, did or did not afterwards
continue to act as the legislature of the realm. Much
was said about the history of writs ; much about the
• Van Citters, ^^; l68J.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 29
indispensably necessary to the existence of a Parliament, chap.
No royal writ had summoned the Convention which ^^'
recalled Charles the Second. Yet that Convention had, 1689.
after his Restoration, continued to sit and to legislate,
had settled the revenue, had passed an Act of amnesty,
had abolished the feudal tenures. These proceedings
had been sanctioned by authority of which no party in
the state could speak without reverence. Hale had
borne a considerable share in them, and had always
maintained that they were strictly legal. Clarendon,
little as he was inclined to favour any doctrine deroga-
tory to the rights of the Crown, or to the dignity of
that seal of which he was keeper, had declared that,
since God had, at a most critical conjuncture, given the
nation a good Parliament, it would be the height of
fojly to look for technical flaws in the instrument by
which that Parliament was called together. Would it
be pretended by any Tory that the Convention of 1660
had a more respectable origin than the Convention of
1689 ? Was not a letter written by the first Prince of
the Blood, at the request of the whole peerage, and
of hundreds of gentlemen who had represented counties
and towns, at least as good a warrant as a vote of the
Rump ?
Weaker reasons than these would have satisfied the
Whigs who formed the majority of the Privy Council.
The King therefore, on the fifth day after he had been
proclaimed, went with royal state to the House of
Lords, and took his seat on the throne. The Commons
were called in; and he, with many gracious expressions,
reminded his hearers of the penlous situation of the
country, and exhorted them to take such steps as might
prevent unnecessary delay in the transaction of public
business. His speech was received by the gentlemen
who crowded the bar with the deep hum by which our
ancestors were wont to indicate approbation, and which
was often heard in places more sacred than the Chamber
32 DISTORT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, without taking the oaths to the new King and Queen.
^'' This enactment produced great agitation throughout
1689. society. The adherents of the exiled dynasty hoped
Jluirfhe^ and confidently predicted that the recusants would be
numerous. The minority in both Houses, it was said,
would be true to the cause of hereditary monarchy.
There might be here and tliere a traitor ; but the great
body of those who had voted for a Regency would be
firm. Only two Bishops at most would recognise the
usurpers. Seymour would retire from public life rather
than abjure his principles. Grafton had determined to
fly to France and to throw himself at the feet of his
uncle. With such rumours as tliese all the cofieehouses
of London were filled during the latter part of February.
So intense was the public anxiety that, if any man of
rank was missed, two days running, at his usual haunts,
it was immediately whispered that he had stolen away
to Saint (Jermains.*
The second of lilarch arrived ; and the event quieted
the fears of one party, and confounded the hopes of
the other. The Primate indeed and several of his
suffragans stood obstinately aloof : but three Bishops
and seventy three temporal peers took the oaths. At
the next meeting of the Upper House several more
prelates came in. Within a week about a hundred
Lords had qualified themselves to sit. Others, who
were prevented by illness from appearing, sent excuses
and professions of attachment to their Majesties.
Grafton refuted all the stories which had been circu-
lated about him by coming to be sworn on the first day.
Two members of the Ecclesiastical Commission, Mulgrave
and Sprat, hastened to make atonement for their fault
by plighting their faith to William. Beaufort, who
had long been considered as the type of a royalist of
the old school, submitted after a very short hesitation.
* Both Van Citten and Ron- was felt in London till the result
quillo mention the anxiety which was known.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 88
Aylesbury and Dartmouth, though vehement Jacobites, ^^l^'
had as little scruple about taking the oath of allegiance
as they afterward had about breaking it.* The Hydes ^^®9-
took Afferent paths. Rochester complied with the law;
but Clarendon proved refractory. Many thought it
strange that the brother who had adhered to James
till James absconded should be less sturdy than the
brother who had been in the Dutch camp. The ex-
planation perhaps is that Rochester would have sacrificed
much more than Clarendon by refusing to take the
oaths. Clarendon's income did not depend on the plea-
sure of the Government : but Rochester had a pension
of four thousand a year, which he could not hope to
retain if he refused to acknowledge the new Sovereigns.
Indeed, he had so many enemies that, during some
months, it seemed doubtful whether he would, on any
terms, be suffered to retain the splendid reward which
he had earned by persecuting the Whigs and by sitting
in the High Commission. He was saved from what
would have been a fatal blow to his fortunes by the
intercession of Burnet, who had been deeply injured by
him, and who revenged himself as became a Christian
divine.f
In the Lower House four hundred members were
sworn in on the second of March ; and among them was
Seymour. The spirit of the Jacobites was broken by his
defection ; and the minority with very few exceptions
followed his example. J -
Before the day fixed for the taking of the oaths, the Questions
Commons had begun to discuss a momentous question ^^^
which admitted of no delay. During the interregnum, nue.
William had, as provisional chief of the administration,
* Lords* Journals, March 168|. as follows : '* £s de gran considera-
t See the letters of Rochester and cion que Seimor haya tornado el ju-
of Lady Ranelagh to Burnet on this ramento ; porque es el arrengador y
occasion. el director principal^ en la casa de
X Journals of the Commons, los Comunes, de los Anglicanos."
March 2. 168$. Ronquillo wrote March ^. l68|.
VOL. III. D
34 HI8T0RT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, collected the taxes and applied them to the public
L- service ; nor could the propriety of this course be ques-
1689. tioned by any person who approved of the Revolution.
But the Revolution was now over : the vacancy of the
tlirone had been supplied: the Houses were sitting : the
law was in full force ; and it became necessary imme-
diately to decide to what revenue the Government was
entitled.
Nobody denied that all the lands and hereditaments
of the Crown had passed with the CroAvn to the new
Sovereigns. Nobody denied that all duties which had
been granted to tlie Crown for a fixed tenn of years
might be constitutionally exacted till that term should
expire. But large revenues had been settled by Par-
liament on James for life ; and whether what had been
settled on James for life could, while he lived, be
claimed by William and Mar}', was a question about
which opinions were divided.
Holt, Treby, PoUexfen, indeed all the eminent Whig
lawyers, Somers excepted, held that these revenues had
been granted to the late King, in his political capacity,
but for his natural life, and ought therefore, as long as
he continued to drag on his existence in a strange land,
to be paid to William and Mary. It appears from a
very concise and unconnected report of the debate that
Somers dissented from this doctrine. His opinion was
that, if the Act of Parliament which had imposed the
duties in question was to be ccJnstrued according to the
spirit, the word life must be understood to mean reign,
and that therefore the term for which the grant had
been made had expired. This was surely the sound
opinion : for it was plainly irrational to treat the inte-
rest of James in this grant as at once a thing annexed
to his person and a thing annexed to his office ; to
say in one breath that the merchants of London and
Bristol must pay money because he was naturally alive,
and that his successors must receive that money because
WILLIAM AND MABT. 35
he was politically defunct. The House was decidedly chap.
with Somers. The members generally were bent on ^^
effecting a great reform, without which it was felt that 1689.
the Declaration of Rights would be but an imperfect
guarantee for public liberty. During the conflict which
fifteen successive Parliaments had maintained against
four successive Kings, the chief weapon of the Commons
had been the power of the purse ; and never had the
representatives of the people been induced to surrender
that weapon without having speedy cause to repent of
their too credulous loyalty. Li that/season of tumultuous
joy which followed the Restoration, a large revenue for
life had been almost by acclamation granted to Charles
the Second. A few months later there was scarcely a
respectable Cavalier in the kingdom who did not own
that the stewards of the nation would have acted more
wisely if they had kept in their hands the means of
checking the abuses which disgraced every department
of the government. James the Second had obtained
from his submissive Parliament, without a dissentient
voice, an income suflicient to defray the ordinary ex-
penses of the state during his life ; and, before he had
enjoyed that income half a year, the great majority of
those who had dealt thus liberally with him blamed
themselves severely for their liberality. If experience
was to be trusted, a long and painful experience, there
could be no effectual security against maladministration,
unless the Sovereign were under the necessity of recur-
ring frequently to his Great Council for pecuniary aid.
Almost all honest and enlightened men were therefore
agreed in thinking that a part at least of the supplies
ought to be granted only for short terms. And what
time could be fitter for the introduction of this new
practice than the year 1689, the commencement of a
new reign, of a new dynasty, of a new era of constitu-
tional government ? The feeling on this subject was so
strong and general that the dissentient minority gave
• D S
36 HISTOBY OF EKQLAXD.
CHAP way. No formal resolution was passed ; but the House
1- proceeded to act on the supposition that the grants
1689. which liad been made to James for life had been
annulled by his abdication.*
It was impossible to make a new settlement of the
revenue mthout inquiry and deliberation. The Ex-
chequer was ordered to furnish such returns as might
enable the House to form estimates of the public ex-
penditure and income. In the meantime, liberal pro-
vision was made for the immediate exigencies of the
state. An extraordinary aid, to be raised by direct
monthly assessment, was voted to the King. An Act
was paj«sed indemnifying all who had, since his landing,
collected by his authority the duties settled on James ;
and those duties which had expired were continued for
some months,
rf Ae^^"* Along William's whole line of march, from Torbay to
hearth London, he had been importuned by the common people
monej. ^^ relieve them from the intolerable burden of the hearth
money. In truth, that tax seems to have united all
the worst evils which can be imputed to any tax. It
was unequal, and unequal in the most pernicious way :
for it pressed heavily on the poor, and lightly on the
rich. A peasant, all whose property was not worth
twenty pounds, was charged ten shillings. The Duke of
Ormond, or the Duke of Newcastle, whose estates were
worth half a million, paid only four or five pounds.
The collectors were empowered to examine tlie interior
of every house in the realm, to disturb families at meals,
to force the doors of bedrooms, and, if the sum demanded
were not punctually paid, to sell the trencher on which
tlie barley loaf was divided among the poor children, and
the pillow from under the head of the lying-in woman.
Nor could the Treasury eflfectually restrain the chim-
neyman from using his powers with harshness : for the
tax was farmed ; and the government was consequently
♦ Grey's Debates, Feb. 25, 26, and 27. I685.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 37
forced to connive at outrages and exactions such as chap.
have, in every age, made the namoi of publican a pro-
verb for all that is most hateful. 1689.
William had been so much moved by what he had
heard of these grievances that, at one of the earliest
sittings of the Privy Council, he introduced the subject.
He sent a message requesting the House of Commons
to consider whether better regulations would effectually
prevent the abuses which had excited so much dis-
content. He added that he would willingly consent to
the entire abolition of the tax if it should appear that
the tax and the abuses were inseparable.* This com-
munication was received with loud applause. There
were indeed some financiers of the old school who
muttered that tenderness for the poor was a fine thing ;
but that no part of the revenue of the state came in
so exactly to the day as the hearth money ; that the
goldsmiths of the City could not always be induced to
lend on the security of the next quarter's customs or
excise, but that on an assignment of hearth money
there was no difficulty in obtaining advances. In the
House of Commons, those who thought thus did not
venture to raise their voices in opposition to the general
feeling. But in the Lords there was a conflict of which
the event for a time seemed doubtful. At length the
influence of the Court, strenuously exerted, carried an
Act by which the chimney tax was declared a badge of
slavery, and was, with many expressions of gratitude
to the King, abolished for ever.f
The Commons granted, with little dispute, and with- Repay-
out a division, six hundred thousand poimds for the ^l^f
purpose of repaying to the United Provinces the pensesof
charges of the expedition which had delivered England, provinces.
The facility with which this large sum was voted to a
shrewd, diligent and thrifty people, our allies, indeed,
♦ Commons' Journals, and Grey's f 1 W. & M. sess. 1. c. 10.; Bur-
Debates, March 1. I68}. net, ii. 13.
J> 3
38 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
politically, but commercially our most formidable rivals,
excited some murmurs out of doors, and was, during
1689. many years, a favourite subject of sarcasm with Toiy
pamphleteers.* The liberality of the House admits
however of an easy explanation. On the very day on
which the subject was under consideration, alarming
news arrived at Westminster, and convinced many,
who would at another time have been disposed to
scrutinise severely any account sent in by the Dutch,
that our country could not yet dispense with the ser-
vices of the foreign troops.
Mutiny at France had declared war against the States General ;
pswich. ^^^ ^1^^ States General had consequently demanded
from the King of England those succours which he was
bound by the treaty of Kimeguen to fumish.f He had
ordered some battalions to march to Harwich, that they
might be in readiness to cross to the Continent. The
old soldiers of James were generally in a very bad temper ;
and this order did not produce a soothing effect. The
discontent was greatest in the regiment which now ranks
as the first of the line. Though borne on the English
establishment, that regiment, from the time when it first
fought under the great Gustavus, had been almost ex-
clusively composed of Scotchmen ; and Scotchmen have
never, in any region to which their adventurous and
aspiring temper has led them, failed to note and to
resent every slight offered to Scotland. OflBicers and
men muttered that a vote of a foreign assembly was
nothing to them. If they could be absolved from their
allegiance to King James the Seventh, it must be by
the Estates at Edinburgh, and not by the Convention at
Westminster. Their ill humour increased when they
heard that Schomberg had been appointed their colonel.
* CommonB* Journals^ March 15. pleasantry. ''As to your Venire
1685. So late as 1713, Arbutliiiot, Facias," says John to Nick Frog, ** 1
in the fifth part of John Bull, al- have paid you for one already."
ludcd to this transaction with much f Wagcnaar, Ixi.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 89
They ought perhaps to have thought it an honour to be chap.
called by the name of the greatest soldier in Europe.
But, brave and skilful as he was, he was not their 1689.
countryman : and their regiment, during the fifty six
years which had elapsed since it gained its first hoi;iour-
able distinctions in Germany, had never been com-
manded but by a Hepburn or a Douglas. While they
were in this angry and punctilious mood, they were
ordered to join the forces which were assembling at
Harwich. There was much murmuring; but there
was no outbreak till the regiment arrived at Ipswich.
There the signal of revolt was given by two captains
who were zealous for the exiled King. The market place
was soon filled with pikemen and musketeers running
to and fro. Gunshots were wildly fired in all directions.
Those officers who attempted to restrain the rioters
were overpowered and disarmed. At length the chiefs
of the insurrection established some order, and marched
out of Ipswich at the head of their adherents. The
little army consisted of about eight hundred men.
They had seized four pieces of cannon, and had taken
possession of the military chest, which contained a con-
siderable sum of money. At the distance of half a
mile from the town a halt was called : a general con-
sultation was held; and the mutineers resolved that
they would hasten back to their native country, and
would live and die with their rightful King. They
instantly proceeded northward by forced marches.*
When the news reached London the dismay was
great. It was rumoured that alarming symptoms had
appeared in other regiments, and particularly that a
body of fusileers which lay at Harwich was likely to
imitate the example set at Ipswich. " K these Scots,"
said Halifax to Reresby, "are unsupported, they are
lost. But if they have acted in concert with others,
the danger is serious indeed." f The truth seems to
* Commons' Journals^ March 15. I68}. f Reresby's Memoirs.
D 4
40 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, be that there was a conspiracy which had ramifications
^^' ill many parts of the anny, but that the conspirators
i6si). were awed by tlie firmness of the government and of
the Parliament. A committee of the Privy Council
was sitting when tlie tidings of the mutiny arrived
in London. William Harbord, who represented the
])oroiigh of Launceston, was at the board. His col-
leagues entreated him to go down instantly to the
House of Commons, and to relate what had happened.
He went, rose in his place, and told his story. The
s])irit of the assembly rose to the occasion. Howe was
the first to call for vigorous action. *' Address the
King," he said, " to send his Dutch troops after these
men. I know not who else can be trusted." " This is
no jesting matter," said old Birch, who had been a
colonel in the ser\'ice of the Parliament, and had seen
the most powerful and renowned House of Commons
that ever sate twHice purged and twice expelled by its
own soldiers ; " if you let this evil spread, you will
have an army upon you in a few days. Address the
King to send horse and foot instantly, his own men, men
whom he can trust, and to put these people down at
once." The men of the long robe caught the flame.
" It is not the learning of my profession that is needed
here, " said Treby. " What is now to be done is to meet
force wth force, and to maintain in the field what we
have done in the senate." " Write to the Sheriffs," said
Colonel ]\Iildmay, member for Essex. " Raise the
militia. There are a hundred and fifty thousand of
tliem : they are good Englishmen : they will not fail
you." It was resolved that all members of the House
who held commissions in the army should be dispensed
from parliamentary attendance, in order that they
might repair instantly to their military posts. An
address was unanimously voted requesting the King
to take efixjctual steps for the suppression of the rebel-
lion, and to put forth a proclamation denouncing public
WILLIAM AND MABY. 41
vengeance on the rebels. One gentleman hinted that chap.
it might be well to advise his Majesty to offer a pardon
to those who should peaceably submit : but the House i^^S-
wisely rejected the suggestion. " This is no time," it
was well said, "for any •thing that looks like fear."
The address was instantly sent up to the Lords. The
Lords concurred in it. Two peers, two knights of
shires, and two burgesses were sent with it to Court.
William received them graciously, and informed them
that he had already given the necessary orders. In
fact, several regiments of horse and dragoons had been
sent northward under the command of Ginkell, one of
the bravest and ablest officers of the Dutch army.*
Meanwhile the mutineers were hastening across the
country which lies between Cambridge and the Wash*
Their road lay through a vast and desolate fen, saturated
with aU the moisture of thirteen counties, and overhung
during the greater part of the year by a low grey mist,
high above which rose, visible many miles, the magni-
ficent tower of Ely. Li that dreary region, covered by
vast flights of wild fowl, a half savage population, known
by the name of the Breedlings, then led an amphibious
life, sometimes wading, and sometimes rowing, from
one islet of firm ground to another.f The roads were
among the worst in the island, and, as soon as rumour
announced the approach of the rebels, were studiously
made worse by the country people. Bridges were
broken down. Trees were laid across the highways to
obstruct the progress of the cannon. Nevertheless the
Scotch veterans not only pushed forward with great
speed, but succeeded in carrying their artillery with
them. They entered Lincolnshire, and were not far
from Sleaford, when they learned that Ginkell with an
* Commons* Journals, and Grey's and the earlier part of the eighteenth
Debates, March 15. l68f ; London century, see Pepys's Diary, Sept.
Gazette, March 18. 18. 1 663, and the Tour through
t As to the state of this region the whole Island of Great Britain^
in the latter part of the seventeenth 17S4.
42 UISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, irresistible force was close on their track. Victory
L« and escape were equally out of the question. The
U)K9, bravest warriors could not contend against fourfold
odds. The most active infantry could not outrun
horsemen. Yet the leaders, probably despairing of
pardon, urged the men to try the chance of battle. In
that region, a spot almost surrounded by swamps and
pools was without difficulty found. Here the insur-
gents were drawn up ; and the cannon were planted
at the only point which was thought not to be suffi-
ciently protected by natural defences. Ginkell ordered
the attack to be made at a place which was out of the
range of the guns; and his dragoons dashed gallantly
into the water, though it was so deep that their horses
were forced to swim. Then the mutineers lost heart.
They beat a parley, surfendered at discretion, and
were brought up to London under a strong guard.
Their lives were forfeit : for they had been guilty, not
merely of mutiny, which was then not a legal crime,
but of levying war against the King. William, how-
ever, wth politic clemency, abstained from shedding
the blood even of the most culpable. A few of the
ringleaders were brought to trial at the next Bury
assizes, and were convicted of high treason ; but their
lives were spared. The rest were merely ordered to
return to their duty. The regiment, lately so refrac-
tory, went submissively to the Continent, and there,
through many hard campaigns, distinguished itself by
fidelity, by discipline, and by valour.*
Th<r first This event facilitated an important change in our
Bui!'°^ polity, a change which, it is true, could not have
been long delayed, but which would not have been
• London Gazette, March 25. gimentofFoot, printed by authority.
in89; Van Citteni to the Statca See also a curious digression in the
General, ^*'^!; "' ; Letters of Not- Complcat History of the Life and
tingham in \hc State Paper Office, ^]}^^^y -^<^"o"! ^^ Richard, Earl
dated July 23. and August 9. 1 68.9 ; ^^ Tyrconnrl, iCSp.
Historical Record of the First Re-
WILLIAM AND MABY- 43
easily accomplished except at a moment of extreme chap.
danger. The time had at length arrived at which it
was necessary to make a legal distinction between the ^^sg.
soldier and the citizen. Under the Plantagenets and
the Tudors there had been no standing army. The
standing army which had existed under the last kings
of the House of Stuart had been regarded by every
party in the state with strong and not unreasonable
aversion. The common law gave the Sovereign no
power to control his troops. The Parliament, regard-
ing them Bs mere tools of tyranny, had not been dis-
posed to give such power by statute. James indeed
had induced his corrupt and servile judges to put on
some obsolete laws a construction which enabled him to
punish desertion capitally. But this construction was
considered by all respectable jurists as unsound, and,
had it been sound, would have been far from effecting
all that was necessary for the purpose of maintaining
military discipline. Even James did not venture to in-
flict Heath by sentence of a court martial. The deserter
was treated as an ordinary felon, was tried at the
assizes by a petty jury on a bill found by a grand jury,
and was at liberty to avail himself of any teclmical
flaw which might be discovered in the indictment.
The Revolution, by altering the relative position of
the prince and the parliament, had altered also the re-
lative position of the army and the nation. The King
and the Commons were now at unity ; and both were
alike menaced by the greatest military power which
had existed in Europe since the downfall of the Roman
empire. In a few weeks thirty thousand veterans, ac-
customed to conquer, and led by able and experienced
captains, might cross from the ports of Normandy and
Britanny to our shores. That such a force would with
little difficulty scatter three times that number of
militia, no man well acquainted with war could doubt.
There must then be regular soldiers ; and, if there were
44 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
to be regular soldiers, it must be indispensable, both to
their efficiency, and to the security of every other class,
1689. that they should be kept under a strict discipline. An
ill disciplined army has ever been a more costly and
a more licentious militia, impotent against a foreign
enemy, and formidable only to the country which it is
paid to defend. A strong line of demarcation must
therefore be drawn between the soldiers and the rest of
the community. For the sake of public freedom, they
must, in the midst of freedom, be placed under a de-
spotic rule. They must be subject to a sharper penal
code, and to a more stringent code of procedure, than
are administered by the ordinary tribunals. Some acts
which in the citizen are innocent must in the soldier be
crimes. Some acts which in the citizen are punished
with fine or imprisonment must in the soldier be
punished with death. The machinery by which courts
of law ascertain the guilt or innocence of an accused
citizen is too slow and too intricate to be applied to
an accused soldier. For, of all the maladies incident to
the body politic, military insubordination is that which
requires the most prompt and drastic remedies. If the
evU be not stopped as soon as it appears, it is certain
to spread ; and it cannot spread far without danger to
the very vitals of the commonwealth. For the general
safety, therefore, a summary jurisdiction of terrible
extent must, in camps, be entrusted to rude tribunals
composed of men of the sword.
But, though it was certain that the country could not
at that moment be secure without professional soldiers,
and equally certain that professional soldiers must be
worse than useless unless they were placed under a rule
more arbitrary and severe than that to which other men
were subject, it was not without great misgivings that a
House of Commons could venture to recognise the ex-
istence and to make provision for the government of a
standing army. There was scarcely a public man of
WILLIAM AND MARY. 45
note who had not often avowed his conviction that our chap.
polity and a standing army could not exist together. ^''
The Whigs had been in the constant habit of repeating 1689.
that standing armies had destroyed the free institutions
of the neighbouring nations. The Tories had repeated
as constantly that, in our own island, a standing army
had subverted the Church, oppressed the gentry, and
murdered the King. No leader of either party could,
without laying himself open to the charge of gross in-
consistency, propose that such an army should hence-
forth be one of the permanent establishments of the
realm. The mutiny at Ipswich, and the panic which
that mutiny produced, made it easy to effect what would
otherwise have been in the highest degree difficult. A
short bill was brought in which began by declaring, in
explicit terms, that standing armies and courts martial
were unknown to the law of England. It was then
enacted that, on account of the extreme perils impend-
ing at that moment over the state, no man mustered on
pay in the service of the crown should, on pain of death,
or of such lighter punishment as a court martial should
deem sufficient, desert his colours or mutiny against
his commanding officers. This statute was to be in
force only six months ; and many of those who voted for
it probably believed that it would, at the close of that
period, be suffered to expire. The bill passed rapidly
and easily. Not a single division was taken upon it in
the House of Commons. A mitigating clause indeed,
which illustrates somewhat curiously the manners of
that age, wa« added by way of rider after the third
reading. This clause provided that no court martial
should pass sentence of death except between the hours
of six in the morning and one in the afternoon. The
dinner hour was then early ; and it was but too probable
that a gentleman who had dined would be in a state in
which he could not safely be trusted with the lives of
his fellow creatures. With this amendment, the first
46 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, and most concise of our many Mutiny Bills was sent up
to the Lords, and was, in a few hours, hurried by them
1689. through all its stages and passed by the King.*
Thus was made, without one dissentient voice in
Parliament, without one murmur in the nation, the
first step towards a change which had become necessary
to the safety of the state, yet which evciy party in the
state then regarded with extreme dread and aversion.
Six months passed; and still the public danger con-
tinued. The power necessary to the maintenance of
military discipline was a second time entrusted to the
crown for a short term. The trust again expired, and
was again renewed. By slow degrees familiarity re-
conciled the public mind to the names, once so odious,
of standing army and court martial. It was proved by
experience that, in a well constituted society, profes-
sional soldiers may be terrible to a foreign enemy, and
yet submissive to the civil power. ^Vhat had been at
first tolerated as the exception began to be considered
as the rule. Not a session passed without a Mutiny
Bill. When at length it became evident that a political
change of the highest importance was taking place in
such a manner as almost to escape notice, a clamour
was raised by some factious men desirous to weaken the
hands of the government, and by some respectable men
who felt an honest but injudicious reverence for every
old constitutional tradition, and who were unable to
understand that what at one stage in the progress of
society is pernicious may at another stage be indis-
pensable. This clamour however, as years rolled on,
became fainter and fainter. The debate which recurred
every spring on the Mutiny Bill came to be regarded
merely as an occasion on which hopeful young ora-
tors fresh from Christchurch were to deliver maiden
speeches, setting forth how the guards of Pisistratus
seized the citadel of Athens, and how the Praetorian
* Stat. 1 W. & M. MSB. 1. c 5. ; Commons' Journals^ March 28. 1689.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 47
cohorts sold the Roman empire to Didius. At length
these declamations became too ridiculous to be repeated.
The most oldfashioned, the most eccentric, politician 1689.
could hardly, in the reign of George the Third, contend
that there ought to be no regular soldiers, or that the
ordinary law, administered by the ordinary courts,
would effectually maintain discipline among such sol-
diers. All parties being agreed as to the general prin-
ciple, a long succession of Mutiny Bills passed without
any discussion, except when some particular article of
the military code appeared to require amendment. It
is perhaps because the army became thus gradually, and
almost imperceptibly, one of the institutions of England,
that it has acted in such perfect harmony with all her
other institutions, has never once, during a hundred
and sixty years, been untrue to the throne or dis-
obedient to the law, has never once defied the tribu-
nals or overawed the constituent bodies. To this day,
however, the Estates of the Realm continue to set up
periodically, with laudable jealousy, a landmark on the
frontier which was traced at the time of the Revolution.
They solemnly reassert every year the doctrine laid
down in the Declaration of Rights ; and they then grant
to the Sovereign an extraordinary power to govern a
certain number of soldiers accor^g to certain rules
during twelve months more.
In the same week in which the first Mutiny Bill was Snspennoii
laid on the table of the Commons, another temporary ^^
law, made necessary by the unsettled state of the king- Corpus
dom, was passed. Since the flight of James many per-
sons who were believed to have been deeply implicated
in his unlawful acts, or to be engaged in plots for his
restoration, had been arrested and confined. During
the vacancy of the throne, these men could derive no
benefit from the Habeas Corpus Act. For the machinery
by which alone that Act could be carried into execution
had ceased to exist ; and, through the whole of Hilary
48 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, term, all the courts in Westminster Hall had remained
XL
closed. Now that the ordinary tribunals were about to
1689. resume their functions, it was apprehended that all those
prisoners whom it was not convenient to bring instantly
to trial would demand and obtain their liberty. A bill
was therefore brought in which empowered the King to
detain in custody during a few weeks such persons as he
should suspect of evil designs against his government.
This bill passed the two Houses with little or no op-
postion.* But the malecontents out of doors did not
fail to remark that, in the late reign, the Habeas Cor-
pus Act had not been one day suspended. It was the
fashion to call James a tyrant, and William a deliverer.
Yet, before the deliverer had been a month on the
throne, he had deprived Englishmen of a precious right
which the tyrant had respected.f This is a kind of
reproach which a government sprung from a popular
revolution almost inevitably incurs. From such a go-
vernment men naturally think themselves entitled to
demand a more gentle and liberal administration than
is expected from old and deeply rooted power. Yet
such a government, having, as it always has, many
active enemies, and not having the strength derived
from legitimacy and prescription, can at first maintain
itself oiJy by a vigilance and a severity of which old and
deeply rooted power stands in no need. Extraordinary
and irregular vindications of public liberty are some-
times necessary : yet, however necessary, they are
almost always followed by some temporary abridgments
of that very liberty ; and every such abridgment is a
fertile and plausible theme for sarcasm and invective.
Unpopuia- Unhappily sarcasm and invective directed against
wiiiuun. William were but too likely to find favourable audience.
Each of the two great parties had its own reasons for
being dissatisfied with him ; and there were some
complaints in which both parties joined. His man-
* Sut. 1 W. & M. sess. 1. c. 2. f Ronquillo, March fg. I689.
WILLIAM AND MAKY. 49
ners gave almost universal offence. He was in truth chap.
far better qualified to save a nation than to adorn a
court. In the highest parts of statesmanship, he had 1689.
no equal among his contemporaries. He had formed
plans not inferior in grandeur and boldness to those of
Richelieu, and had carried them into effect with a tact
and wariness worthy of Mazarin. Two countries, the
seats of civil liberty and of the Reformed Faith, had
been preserved by his wisdom and courage from extreme
perils. Holland he had delivered from foreign, and
England from domestic foes. Obstacles apparently in-
surmountable had been interposed between him and the
ends on which he was intent ; and those obstacles his
genius had turned into stepping stones. Under his
dexterous management the hereditary enemies of his
house had helped him to mount a throne ; and the per-
secutors of his religion had helped him to rescue his re-
ligion from persecution. Fleets and armies, collected
to withstand him, had, without a struggle, submitted
to his orders. Factions and sects, divided by mortal
antipathies, had recognised him as their common head.
Without carnage, without devastation, he had won a
victory compared with which all the victories of Gus-
tavus and Turenne were insignificant. In a few weeks
he had changed the relative position of all the states in
Europe, and had restored the equilibrium which the
preponderance of one power had destroyed. Foreign
nations did ample justice to his great qualities. In
every Continental country where Protestant congrega-
tions met, fervent thanks were offered to God, who,
from among the progeny of His servants, Maurice, the
deliverer of Germany, and William, the deliverer of
Holland, had raised up a third deliverer, the wisest and
mightiest of all. At Vienna, at Madrid, nay, at Rome,
the valiant and sagacious heretic was held in honour as
the chief of the great confederacy against the House of
VOL. in. E
50 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Bourbon ; and even at Versailles the hatred which h
XT
inspired was largely mingled with admiration.
1689. Here he was less favourably judged. In truth, ou
ancestors saw him in the worst of all lights. By th
French, the Germans, and the Italians, he was contem
plated at such a distance that only what was great coul<
be discerned, and that small blemishes were invisible
To the Dutch he was brought close : but he was himsel
a Dutchman. In his intercourse with them he was seei
to the best advantage : he was perfectly at his ease wid
them ; and from among them he had chosen his earliest
and dearest friends. But to the English he appeared ii
a most unfortunate point of view. He was at once to<
near to them and too far from them. He lived amonj
them, so that the smallest peculiarity of temper or man
ner could not escape their notice. Yet he lived apar
from them, and was to the last a foreigner in speech
tastes, and habits.
One of the chief functions of our Sovereigns had lonf
been to preside over the society of the capital. Tha
function Charles the Second had performed with im
mense success. His easy bow, his good stories, his styh
of dancing and playing tennis, the sound of his cordia
laugh, were familiar to all London. One day he wai
seen among the elms of Saint James's Park chatting wit!
Dryden about poetry.* Another day his arm was or
Tom Durfey's shoulder ; and his Majesty was taking 1
second, while his companion sang " PhiUida, PhiUida,'
or " To horse, brave boys, to Newmarket, to horse." •]
James, with much less vivacity and good nature, wot
accessible, and, to people who did not cross him, civil
But of this sociableness William was entirely destitute
He seldom came forth from his closet ; and, when h<
appeared in the public rooms, he stood among the crowc
* See the account given in t Guardian, No, 67*
Spence's Anecdotes of the Origin of
Drydeu's Medal.
WILLIAM AND MABY.
51
of courtiers and ladies, stem and abstracted, making no
jest and smiling at none. His freezing look, his silence,
the dry and concise answers which he uttered when he
could keep silence no longer, disgusted noblemen and
gentlemen who had been accustomed to be slapped
on the back by their royal masters, called Jack or
Harry, congratulated about race cups or rallied about
actresses. The women missed the homage due to their
sex. They observed that the King spoke in a somewhat
imperious tone even to the wife to whom he owed so
much, and whom he sincerely loved and esteemed.*
They were amused and shocked to see him, when the
Princess Anne dined with him, and when the first green
peas of the year were put on the table, devour the whole
dish without ofifering a spoonful to her Royal Highness ;
and they pronounced that this great soldier and politi-
cian was no better than a Low Dutch bear, f
One misfortune, which was imputed to him as a crime,
was his bad English. He spoke our language, but not
well. His accent was foreign : his diction was inele-
gant; and his vocabulary seems to have been no larger
than was necessary for the transaction of business. To
the difficulty which he felt in expressing himself, and
to his consciousness that his pronunciation was bad,
must be partly ascribed the taciturnity and the short
CHAP.
XL
1689.
* There is abundant proof that
William, though a very affectionate,
was not always a polite husband.
But no credit is due to the story
contained in the letter which Dal-
lymple was foolish enough to publish
as Nottingham's in 1773^ and wise
enough to omit in the edition of
1 790. How any person who knew
any thing of the history of those times
could be so strangely deceived, it is
not easy to understand, particularly
as the handwriting bears no resem-
blance to Nottingham's, with which
Dalrymple was familiar. The letter
is evidently a common newsletter.
written by a scribbler, who had never
seen the King and Queen except at
some public place, and whose anec-
dotes of their private life rested on
no better authority than coffeehouse
gossip.
t RonquiUo ; Burnet, ii. 2. ;
Duchess of Marlborough's Vindica-
tion. In a pastoral dialogue between
Philander and Palsmon, published
in 1691, the dislike with which
women of fashion regarded William
is mentioned. Philander says :
''But man methinks his reason should
recall,
Nor let frail woman work bis second fall.*'
52 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, answers which gave so much offence. Our literature
^^' he was incapable of enjoying or of understanding. He
168.9. never once, during his whole reign, showed himself at
tlie theatre.* The ixxjts who wrote Pindaric verses in
his praise complained that their flights of sublimity
were beyond his comprehension.f Those who are ac-
riuainted with the panegyrical odes of that age will
perhaps be of opinion that he did not lose much by his
ignorance,
Topaiantj It Is truc that his wife did her best to supply what
^^^' was wanting, and that she was excellently qualified to
be the head of the Court. She was English by birth,
and English also in her tastes and feelings. Her fiice
was handsome, her port majestic, her temper sweet and
lively, her manners affable and graceful. Her under-
standing, though very imiK*rfectly cultivated, was quicL
There was no want of feminine wit and shrewdness in
her conversation ; and her letters were so well expressed
that they deserved to be well spelt. She took much
pleasure in the lighter kinds of literature, and did some-
thing towards bringing books into fashion among ladies
of quality. The stainless purity of her private life and
tlie strict attention which she paid to her religious
duties were the more respectable, because she was sin-
gularly free from censoriousness, and discouraged scan-
dal as much as vice. In dislike of backbiting indeed
slie and her husband cordially agreed ; but they showed
their dislike in different and in very characteristic ways.
William preserved profound silence, and gave the tcde-
bearer a look which, as was said by a person who had
once encountered it, and who took good care never to
encounter it again, made your story go back down your
* Tutchin's Observator of No- forniB us that the King did not
vember I6. 1706. understand poetical eulogy. The
t Prior, yrho was treated by passage is in a highly curious ma-
William with much kindness, and nuscript, the projK^rty of Lord Lana-
who was very grateful for it, in- downe.
WILLIAM AND MARY.
63
throat.* Mary had a way of interrupting tattle about
elopements, duels, and playdebts, by asking the tattlers,
very quietly yet significantly, whether they had ever
read her favourite sermon, Doctor Tillotson's on Evil
Speaking. Her charities were munificent and judicious ;
and, though she made no ostentatious display of them,
it was known that she retrenched from her own state
in order to relieve Protestants whom persecution had
driven from France and Ireland, and who were starving
in the garrets of London. So amiable was her conduct,
tliat she was generally spoken of with esteem and ten-
derness by the most respectable of those who disap-
proved of the manner in which she had been raised to
the throne, and even of those who refused to acknow-
ledge her as Queen. In the Jacobite lampoons of that
time, lampoons which, in virulence and malignity, far
exceed any thing that our age has produced, she was
not often mentioned with severity. Indeed she some-
times expressed her surprise at finding that libellers
who respected nothing else respected her name. God,
she said, knew where her weakness lay. She was too
sensitive to abuse and calumny ; He had mercifully
spared her a trial which was beyond her strength ; and
the best return which she could make to Him was to dis-
countenance all malicious reflections on the characters
CHAP.
XI.
1689.
* M ^moires originaux sur le r^gne
et la cour de Frederic I.^ Roi de
PruRse, dcrito par Christophe Comte
de Dohna. Berlin, 1833. It is
strange that this interesting volume
should be almost unknown in Eng-
land. The only copy that I have
ever seen of it was kindly given to me
by Sir Robert Adair. '« Le Roi,"
Dohna says, " avoit une autre quality
tres estimable, qui est celle de n'aimer
point qu'on rendit de mauvais offices
k personne par des railleries." The
Marquis de La Foret tried to enter-
tain His Majesty at the expense of
an English nobleman. ^* Ce prince,"
says Dohna, " prit son air s^v^re,
et, le regardant sans mot dire, lui fit
rentrer Ics paroles dans le ventre.
Le Marquis men fit ses plain tes
quelques heures apres. 'J*ai mal
pris ma bisque,' dit-il ; ' j'ai cru faire
I'agrdable sur le chapitre de Milord
. . . mais j*ai trouvd k qui parler, et
j'ai attrape un regard du roi qui m'a
fait passer lenvie de rire/ " Dohna
supposed that William might be less
sensitive about the character of a
Frenchman, and tried the experi-
ment But, says he, "j'eus k peu
pr^s le meme sort que M. de la
Foret."
3
54
HISTORY OF ENGLAKB.
CHAP.
XI.
1689.
of Others. Assured that she possessed her husband's
entire confidence and affection, she turned the edge of
his sharp speeches sometimes by soft and sometimes by
])la3rful answers, and employed all the influence which
she derived from her many pleasing qualities to gain
the hearts of the people for him.*
If she had long continued to assemble round her
the best society of London, it is probable that her
kindness and courtesy would have done much to
efface the unfavourable impression miide by his stem
The Court and frigid demeanour. Unhappily nis physical infirmi-
fr^^^ ties made it imix)ssible for him to reside at Whitehall.
The air of Westminster, mingled with the fog of the
river which in spring tides overflowed the courts of his
palace, with the smoke of seacoal from two hundred
thousand chimneys, and vnth the fumes of all the filth
which was then suffered to accumulate in the streets,
was insupportable to him; for his lungs were weak,
and his sense of smell exquisitely keen. His constitu-
tional asthma made rapid progress. His physicians pro-
nounced it impossible that he could live to the end of
the year. His face was so ghastly that he could hardly
be recognised. Those who had to transact business
Whitehall
to Hampton
Court.
* Compare the account of Mary
by the Whig Burnet with the men-
tion of her by the Tory Evelyn in
his Diary, March 8. 169}, and with
what is said of her by the Nonjuror
who wrote the Letter to Archbishop
Tennison on her death in 1695.
The impression which the bluntness
and reserve of William and the grace
and gentleness of Mary had made
on the populace may be traced in the
remains of tlie street poetry of that
time. The following conjugal dia-
logue may still be seen on the ori-
ginal broadside.
" Then bexpoke Mary, our most royal
Queen,
• My gracious King William, where are
you going?*
Uo answered her quickly, ' I count him
no man
That telleth his secret unto a woman.*
The Queen with a modest behaviour
replied,
*I widh that kind Providence may be
thy guide,
To keep thee from danger, my soTereigB
Lord,
The which will the greatest of comfort
afford.'"
These lines are in an excellent ool*
lection formed by Mr. Richard He-
ber^ and now the property of Mr.
Broderip, by whom it was kindlj
lent to me. In one of the most ea.
vage Jacobite pasquinades of l68Q,
William is described as
** A churle to his wife, which she makes
but a jest."
WILLIAM AND MARY. 55
with him were shocked to hear him gasping for breath,
and coughing till the tears ran down his cheeks.* His
mind, strong as it was, sympathized with his body. 1689.
His judgment was indeed as clear as ever. But there
was, during some months, a perceptible relaxation of
that energy by which he had been distinguished. Even
his Dutch friends whispered that he was not the man
that he had been at the Hague.f It was absolutely
necessary that he should quit London. He accordingly
took up his residence in the purer air of Hampton Court.
That mansion, begun by the magnificent Wolsey, was a
fine specimen of the architecture which flourished in
England under the first Tudors ; but the apartments
were not, according to the notions of the seventeenth
century, well fitted for purposes of state. Our princes
therefore had, since the Restoration, repaired thither
seldom, and only when they wished to live for a time
in retirement. As William purposed to make the
deserted edifice his chief palace, it was necessary for
him to build and to plant ; nor was the necessity dis-
agreeable to him. For he had, like most of his coun-
trymen, a pleasure in decorating a country house ; and
next to hunting, though at a great interval, his fa-
vourite amusements were architecture and gardening.
He had already created on a sandy heath in Guelders
a paradise, which attracted multitudes of the curious
from Holland and Westphalia. Mary had laid the first
stone of the house. Bentinck had superintended the
♦ Burnet, ii. 2. ; Burnet, MS. Tusurpateur est fort mauvaise. L'on
Harl. 6584. ^ut Ronquillo's ac- ne croit pas quil vive un an."
count is much more circumstantiaL April ^.
" Nada se ha visto mas desfigurado ; f *' Hasta decir los mismos Hollan-
y, quantas veces he estado con el, le deses que lo desconozcan/' says Ron-
he visto toser tanto que se le saltaban quillo. ^* 1\ est absolument mal
las lagrimas, y se ponia moxado y propre pour le role qu'il a a jouer
arrancando ; y confiesan los medicos k I'heure qu'il est," says Avaux.
que es una asma incurahle/' Mar. *' Slothful and sickly/' says Evelyn.
fV 1689. Avaux wrote to the same March 29. I689.
effect from Ireland. ^^ La sant^ de
E 4
56 mSTORT OF ENGLAND.
digging of the fishponds. There were cascades and
grottoes, a spacious orangery, and an aviary which
1689. furnished Hondekoeter with numerous specimens of
manycoloured plumage.* The King, in his splendid
banishment, pined for this favourite seat, and found
some consolation in creating another Loo on the banks
of the Thames. Soon a wide extent of ground was laid
out in formal walks and parterres. Much idle ingenuity
was employed in forming that intricate labyrinth of
verdure which has puzzled and amused five generations
of holiday visitors from London. Limes thirty years
old were transplanted from neighbouring woods to 'shade
the alleys. Artificial fountains spouted among the
flower beds. A new court, not designed with the purest
taste, but stately, spacious, and commodious, rose under
the direction of Wren. The wainscots were adorned
with the rich and delicate carvings of Gibbons. The
staircases were in a blaze with the glaring frescoes
of Verrio. In every comer of the mansion appeared
a profusion of gewgaws, not yet familiar to English
eyes. Mary had acquired at the Hague a taste for the
porcelain of China, and amused herself by forming at
Hampton a vast collection of hideous images, and of
vases on which houses, trees, bridges, and mandarins
were depicted in outrageous defiance of all the laws
of perspective. The fashion, a frivolous and inelegant
fashion it must be owned, which was thus set by the
amiable Queen, spread fast and wide. In a few years
almost every great house in the kingdom contained
a museum of these grotesque baubles. Even statesmen
and generals were not ashamed to be renowned as
judges of teapots and dragons ; and satirists long con-
tinued to repeat that a fine lady valued her mottled
green pottery quite as much as she valued her mon-
key, and much more than she valued her husband, f
♦ See Harris's description of Loo, f Every person who is well ac-
1699* quainted with Pope and Addison will
WILLIAM AND MARY. 67
But the new palace was embellislied with works of chap.
art of a very different kind. A gallery was erected for ^^
the cartoons of Raphael. Those great pictures, then i689.
and still the finest on our side of the Alps, had been
preserved by CromweU from the fate which befell most
of the other masterpieces in the collection of Charles the
First, but had been suffered to lie during many years
nailed up in deal boxes. They were now brought forth
from obscurity to be contemplated by artists with ad-
miration and despair. The expense of the works at
Hampton was a subject of bitter complaint to many
Tories, who had very gently blamed the boundless
profusion with which Charles the Second had built and
rebuilt^ furnished and refurnished, the dwelling of the
Duchess of Portsmouth.* The expense, however, was
not the chief cause of the discontent which William's
change of residence excited. There was no longer a
Court at Westminster. Whitehall, once the daily resort
of the noble and the powerful, the beautiful and the
gay, the place to which fops came to show their new
peruques, men of gallantry to exchange glances with
fine ladies, politicians to push their fortunes, loungers
to hear the news, country gentlemen to see the royal
fanuly, was now, in the busiest season of the year, when
London was full, when Parliament was sitting, left deso-
late. A solitary sentinel paced the grassgrown pave-
ment before that door which had once been too narrow
for the opposite streams of entering and departing
courtiers. The services which the metropolis had
remember their sarcasms on this taste. 16.16*89; the Tour through Great
Lady Mary Wortley Montague took Britain, 1724; the British Apelies;
the other side. '* Old China," she Horace Walpole on Modern Garden-
says, " is below nobody's taste, since ing ; Burnet, ii. 2, 3.
it has been the Duke of Argyle's, AVhen Evelyn was at Hampton
whose understanding has never been Court, in l662, the cartoons were
doubted either by his friends or not to be seen. The Triumphs of
enemies." Andrea Mantegna were then sup-
* As to the works at Hampton posed to be the finest pictures in the
Court, see Evelyn's Diary, July palace.
58 mSTOBT OF ENOULND.
rendered to the Bang were great and recent; and it was
thought that he might have requited those services
1689. better than by treating it as Lewis had treated Paris.
Halifax ventured to hint this, but was silenced by a few
words which admitted of no reply. " Do you wish,"
said William peevishly, "to see me dead ?"•
The Court In a short time it was found that Hampton CJourt
^ig^nl ^^ t^>o fer from the Houses of Lords and Commons, and
from the public offices, to be the ordinary abode of the
Sovereign. Instead, however, of returning to Whitehall,
William determined to have another dwelling, near
enough to his capital for the transaction of business, but
not near enough to be within that atmosphere in which
he could not pass a night without risk of suffocation.
At one time he thought of HoUand House, the villa of
the noble family of Rich; and he actually resided there
some weeks, f But he at length fixed his choice on
Kensington House, the suburban residence of the Earl
of Nottingham. The purchase was made for eighteen
thousand guineas, and was followed by more building,
more planting, more expense, and more discontent. J
At present Kensington House is considered as a part of
London. It was then a rural mansion, and could not,
in those days of highwaymen and scourers, of roads
deep in mire and nights without lamps, be the rallying
point of fashionable society.
William's It was wcll known that the King, who treated the
▼oupitesf*' English nobility and gentry so ungraciously, could, in a
small circle of his own countrymen, be easy, friendly,
* Burnet, ii. 2. ; Reresby's Me- Croissy from Ireland : " Le Prince
moirs. Ronquillo wrote repeatedly d'Orange est toujoun k Hampton
to the same effect For example, Court, et jamais k la ville : et le
" Bien quisiera que el Rey fuese peuple est fort mal satisfait de cette
mas comunicable, y se acomodase un maniere bizarre et retiree.*'
poco mas al humor sociable de los t Several of his letters to Heinsius
Ingleses, y que estubiera en Londres : are dated from Holland House,
pero es cierto que sus achaques no se % Narcissus Luttrell's Diary; JSre-
lo permiten." July ^, ICS.Q. Avaux, lyn's Diary, Feb. 25. |^.
about the same time, wrote thus to
WILLIAM AND ICABT. 59
even jovial, could pour out his feelings garrulously, could
fill his glass, perhaps too often; and this was, in the
view of our forefathers, an aggravation of his offences. I689.
Yet our forefathers should have had the sense and
the justice to acknowledge that the patriotism which
they considered as a virtue in themselves, could not
be a fault in him. It was unjust to blame him for
not at once transferring to our island the love which he
bore to the country of his birth. If, in essentials, he
did his duty towards England, he might well be suffered
to feel at heart an affectionate preference for Holland.
Nor is it a reproach to him that he did not, in this
season of his greatness, discard companions who had
played with him in his childhood, who had stood by him
firmly through all the vicissitudes of his youth and
manhood, who had, in defiance of the most. loathsome
and deadly forms of infection, kept watch by his sick-
bed, who had, in the thickest of the battle, thrust them-
selves between him and the French swords, and whose
attachment was, not to the Stadtholder or to the King,
but to plain William of Nassau. It may be added that
his old friends could not but rise in his estimation by
comparison with his new courtiers. To the end of his
life all his Dutch comrades, without exception, continued
to deserve his confidence. They could be out of humour
with him, it is true; and, when out of humour, they
could be sullen and rude ; but never did they, even when
most angry and unreasonable, fail to keep his secrets
and to watch over his interests with gentlemanlike and
soldierlike fidelity. Among his English councillors such
fidelity was rare.* It is painful, but it is no more than
* De Foe makes this excuse for He most have been a madman to relj
xi7"ii:«»« On English gentlemen's fidelity.
William. Yhe foreigners have faithfuUy obeyed
<* We blame the King that he relies too much him.
On strangers, Germans, Hugaenots, and And none hot Englishmen have e'er be-
Dutch, trayed him."
And seldom does his great affairs of state rru^ t,«« ii^.» i?..«*i:.i,M»n
To EngliKlicoansellore communicate. ^ ^he True Bom Englishman,
The fact might very well be answered thus Vui \u
He has too often been betrayed by us.
60 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, just, to acknowledge that he had but too good reason
^^ for thinking meanly of our national character. That
i<)89- character was indeed, in essentials, what it has always
been. Veracity, uprightness, and manly boldness were
then, as now, qualities eminently English. But those
qualities, though widely diflFused among the great body
of the people, were seldom to be found in the class with
which William was best acquainted. The standard of
honour and virtue among our public men was, during
his reign, at the very lowest point. His predecessors
had bequeathed to hhn a court foul with all the vices of
the Restoration, a court swarming with sycophants, who
were ready, on the first turn of fortune, to abandon him
as they had abandoned his uncle. Here and there, lost
in that ignoble crowd, was to be found a man of true
integrity and public spirit. Yet even such a man could
not long live in such society without much risk that the
strictness of his principles would be relaxed, and the
delicacy of liis sense of right and wrong impaired. It
was unjust to blame a prince surrounded by flatterers
and traitors for wishing to keep near him four or five
servants whom he knew by proof to be faithful even to
death.
General Nor was this the only instance in which our ancestors
_ , „_ werQ unjust to him. They had expected that, as soon
as so distinguished a soldier and statesman was placed
at the head of affairs, he would give some signal proof,
they scarcely knew what, of genius and vigour. Un-
happily, during the first months of his reign, almost
every thing went wrong. His subjects, bitterly disap-
pointed, threw the blame on him, and began to doubt
whether he merited that reputation which he had won
at his first entrance into public life, and which the
splendid success of his last great enterprise had raised
to the highest point. Had they been in a temper to
judge fairly, they would have perceived that for the
maladministration of which they with good reason com-
plained he was not responsible. He could as yet work
maladmi'
nistration,
WILLIAM AND MARY. 61
only with the machinery which he had found ; and the chap.
machinery which he had found was all rust and rotten- ^^
ness. From the time of the Restoration to the time of 1689.
the Revolution, neglect and fraud had been almost con-
stantly impairing the efficiency of every department of
the government. Honours and public trusts, peerages,
baronetcies, regiments, frigates, embassies, governments,
commissionerships, leases of crown lands, contracts for
clothing, for provisions, for anununition, pardons for
murder, for robbery, for arson, were sold at Whitehall
scarcely less openly than asparagus at Covent Garden
or herrings at Billingsgate. Brokers had been inces-
santly plying for custom in the purlieus of the court ;
and of these brokers the most successful had been, in
the days of Charles, the harlots, and in the days of
James, the priests. From the palace which was the
chief seat of this pestilence the taant had diffused itself
through every office and through every rank in every
office, and had every where produced feebleness and
disorganization. So rapid was the progress of the decay
that, within eight years after the time when Oliver had
been the umpire of Europe, the roar of the guns of De
Ruyter was heard in the Tower of London. The vices
which had brought that great humiliation on the coun-
try had ever since been rooting themselves deeper and
spreading themselves wider. James had, to do him
justice, corrected a few of the gross abuses which
disgraced the naval administration. Yet the naval
administration, in spite of his attempts to reform it,
moved the contempt of men who were acquainted with
the dockyards of France and Holland. The military
administration was still worse. The courtiers took
bribes from the colonels; the colonels cheated the
soldiers: the commissaries sent in long bills for what
had never been furnished : the keepers of the arsenals
sold the public stores and pocketed the price. But these
evils, though they had sprung into existence and grown
to maturity under the government of Charles and James,
62 HISTOBT OF ENGLAIO).
CHAP, first made themselves severely felt under the govem-
ment of William. For Charles and James were content
1689* to be the vassals and pensioners of a powerful and am-
bitious neighbour: they submitted to his ascendency:
they shunned with pusillanimous caution whatever could
give him offence ; and thus, at the cost of the independ-
ence and dignity of that ancient and glorious crown
which they unworthily wore, they avoided a conflict
which would instantly have shown how helpless, un-
der their misrule, their once formidable kingdom had
become. Their ignominious policy it was neither in
William's power nor in his nature to follow. It was
only by arms that the liberty and religion of England
could be protected against the most formidable enemy
that had threatened our island since the Hebrides were
strown with the wrecks of the Armada. The body
politic, which, while it remained in repose, had presented
a superficial appearance of health and vigour, was now
under the necessity of straining every nerve in a wrestle
for life or death, and was immediately found to be
unequal to the exertion. The first efforts showed an
utter relaxation of fibre, an utter want of training.
Those efforts were, with scarcely an exception, failures;
and every failure was popularly imputed, not to the
rulers whose mismanagement had produced the in-
firmities of the state, but to the ruler in whose time
the infirmities of the state became visible.
William might indeed, if he had been as absolute as
Lewis, have used such sharp remedies as would speedily
have restored to the English administration that firm
tone which had been wanting since the death of Oliver.
But the instantaneous reform of inveterate abuses was
a task far beyond the powers of a prince strictly re-
strained by law, and restrained still more strictly by the
difficulties of his situation.*
* Ronquillo had the good sense the English did not make. After
and justice to make allowances which describing, in a despatch dated March
WILLIAM AND MABT. 63
Some of the most serious difficulties of his situation chap.
were caused by the conduct of the ministers on whom,
new as he was to the details of English affairs, he was 1^89-
forced to rely for information about men and things. J?j^"
There was indeed no want of ability among his chief imongmen
counsellors : but one half of their ability was employed "* ® ^*
in counteracting the other half. Between the Lord Pre-
sident and the Lord Privy Seal there was an invete-
rate enmity.* It had begun twelve years before when
Danby was Lord High Treasurer, a persecutor of non-
conformists, an uncompromising defender of prero-
gative, and when Halifax was rising to distinction as
one of the most eloquent leaders of the country party.
In the reign of James, the two statesmen had found
themselves in opposition together; and their common
hostility to France and to Rome, to the High Commis-
sion and to the dispensing power, had produced an
apparent reconciliation; but as soon as they were in
office together the old antipathy revived. The hatred
which the Whig party felt towards them both ought, it
should seem, to have produced a close alliance between
them : but in fact each of them saw with complacency
the danger which threatened the other. Danby exerted
himself to rally round him a strong phalanx of Tories.
Under the plea of ill health, he withdrew from court,
seldom came to the Council over which it was his
duty to preside, passed much time in the country, and
took scarcely any part in public affairs except by
grumbling and sneering at all the acts of the govern-
ment, and by doing jobs and getting places for his
personal retainers.f In consequence of this defection,
^. 16899 the lamentable state of ten from London about a month
the military and naval establish- later, says that the delays of the
ments, he says, *' De esto no tiene English administration had lowered
culpa el Principe de Oranges ; por- the King's reputation, " though with-
que pensar que se ban de poder vol- out his fault.''
ver en dos meaes tres Reynos de * Buraet, ii. 4. ; Reresby.
abaxo arriba es una extravagancia." f Reresby 's Memoirs ; Burnet
Lord President Stair, in a letter writ- Ma HarL 6584.
64 HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
Halifax became prime minister, as far any minister
could, in that reign, be called prime minister. An
1689. immense load of business fell on him; and that load
he was unable to sustain. In wit and eloquence, in
amplitude of comprehension and subtlety of disquisition,
he had no equal among the statesmen of his time. But
that very fertility, that very acuteness, which gave a
singular charm to his conversation, to his oratory and
to his writings, unfitted him for the work of promptly
deciding practical questions. He was slow from very
quickness. For he saw so many arguments for and
against every possible coprse that he was longer in
making up his mind than a dull man would have been.
Instead of acquiescing in his first thoughts, he replied
on himself, rejoined on himself, and surrejoined on him-
self. Those who heard him talk owned that he talked
like an angel : but too often, when he had exhausted all
that could be said, and came to act, the time for action
was over.
Meanwhile the two Secretaries of State were con-
stantly lalx)uring to draw their master in diametrically
opposite directions. Every scheme, every person, re-
commended by one of them was reprobated by the
other. Nottingham was never weary of repeating that
the old Roundhead party, the party which had taken
the life of Charles the First and had plotted against the
life of Charles the Second, was in principle republican,
and that the Tories were the only true friends of
monarchy. Shrewsbury replied that the Tories might
be friends of monarchy, but that they regarded James
as their monarch. Nottingham was always bringing to
the closet intelligence of the wild daydreams in which
a few old eaters of calf's head, the remains of the once
formidable party of Bradshaw and Ireton, still indulged
at taverns in the city. Shrewsbury produced ferocious
lampoons which the JacolDites dropped every day in the
cofFcehouscs. " Every Whig," said the Tory Secretary,
WILLIAM AND MARY. 65
" is an enemy of your Majesty's prerogative." " Every chap.
Tory," said the Whig Secretary, " is an enemy of your ^
Majesty's title."* I689.
At the treasury there was a complication of jealousies
and quarrels.f Both the First Commissioner, Mordaunt,
and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Delamere, were
zealous Whigs : but, though they held the same political
creed, their tempers differed widely. Mordaunt was
volatile, dissipated, and generous. The wits of that
time laughed at the way in which he flew about from
Hampton Court to the Royal Exchange, and from the
Royal Exchange back to Hampton Court. How he
found time for dress, politics, lovemaking and ballad-
making was a wonder. J Delamere was gloomy and
acrimonious, austere in his private morals, and punctual
in his devotions, but greedy of ignoble gain. The two
principal ministers of finance, therefore, became enemies,
and agreed only in hating their colleague Godolphin.
What business had he at Whitehall in these days of
Protestant ascendency, he who had sate at the same
board with Papists, he who had never scrupled to attend
Mary of Modena to the idolatrous worship of the Mass?
The most provoking circumstance was that Godolphin,
though his name stood only third in the commission,
was really first Lord. For in financial knowledge and
in habits of business Mordaunt and Delamere were mere
children when compared with him; and this William
soon discovered.§
Similar feuds raged at the other great boards and
through all the subordinate ranks of public function-
aries. In every customhouse, in every arsenal, were
a Shrewsbury and a Nottingham, a Delamere and a
* Burnet, ii. S, 4. 15. Some to the State, and some to Love's
\?^^1*\^'a * A'^M * 1.: SomrS^be vain, and tome to be witty?"
^ ho^;;,^^ The Modern Lampoonere, a
Some to the Court, and some to the poem of 1 69O.
City, § Burnet^ ii. 4.
VOL. III. F
66 HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Godolphin. The Whigs complained that there was
^^' no department in which creatures of the &llen tyranny
1689. were not to be found. It was idle to allege that these
men were versed in the details of business, that they
were the depositaries of of&cial traditions, and that
the friends of liberty, having been, during many years,
excluded from public employment, must necessanly be
incompetent to take on themselves at once the whole
management of affairs. Experience doubtless had its
value : but surely the first of all the qualifications of
a servant was fidelity ; and no Tory could be a really
faithful servant of the new government. If King Wil-
liam were wise, he would rather trust novices zealous
for his interest and honour than veterans who might
indeed possess ability and knowledge, but who "would
use that ability and that knowledge to effect his rain.
The Tories, on the other hand, complained that their
share of power bore no proportion to their number and
their weight in the country, and that every where old and
useful public servants were, for the crime of being friends
to monarchy and to the Church, turned out of their posts
to make way for Rye House plotters and haunters of
conventicles. These upstarts, adepts in the art of
factious agitation, but ignorant of all that belonged to
their new calling, would be just beginning to learn their
business when they had undone the nation by thdr
blunders. To be a rebel and a schismatic was surely not
all that ought to be required of a man in high employ-
ment. What would become of the finances, what of the
marine, if Whigs who could not understand the plainest
balance sheet were to manage the revenue, and Whigs
who had never walked over a dockyard to fit out the
fleet.*
* Ronquillo calls the ^\niig func- June 24. I689. In one of the innn-
tionaries " Gente que no tienen pra- merable Dialogues which appeared
tica ni experiencia." He adds, at that time, the Tory interlocutor
" Y de esto proccde el pasarse un puts the question^ " Do you think
mes y un otro, sin executarse nada." the government would be better
WILLIAAl AND MABY. 67
The truth is that the charges which the two parties chap.
brought against each other were, to a great extent, well L
founded, but that the blame which both threw on William i^89«
was unjust. Official experience was to be found almost
exclusively among the Tories, hearty attachment to the
new settlement almost exclusively among the Whigs.
It was not the fault of the King that the knowledge and
the zeal, which, combined, make a valuable servant of the
state must at that time be had separately or not at all.
If he employed men of one party, there was great rbk
of mistakes. K he employed men of the other party,
there was great risk of treachery. If he employed men
of both parties, there was still some risk of mistakes ;
there was still some risk of treachery ; and to these risks
was added the certainty of dissension. He might join
Whigs and Tories ; but it was beyond his power to mix
them. , In the same office, at the same desk, they were
still enemies, and agreed only in murmuring at the
Prince who tried to mediate between them. It was in-
evitable that, in such circumstances, the administration,
fiscal, military, naval, should be feeble and unsteady;
that nothing should be done in quite the right way or
at quite the right time; that the distractions from which
scarcely any public office was exempt should produce
disasters, and that every disaster should increase the
distractions from which it had sprung.
There was indeed one department of which the bu- Depart-
siness was well conducted ; and that was the depart- f^^l^
ment of Foreign Afiairs. There William directed every a^>"-
thing, and, on important occasions, neither asked the
advice nor employed the agency of any English politi-
cian. One invaluable assistant he had, Anthony Hein-
sius, who, a few weeks after the Revolution had been
accomplished, became Pensionary of Holland. Hein-
sius had entered public life as a member of that party
served by strangers to business ? " rant friends than understanding
The Whig answers^ " Better igno- enemies."
F 2
68 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, which was jealous of the power of the House of Orange,
L and desirous to be on friendly terms with France. But
1689. he had been sent in 1681 on a diplomatic mission to
Versailles; and a short residence there had produced a
complete change in his views. On a near acquaintance,
he was alarmed by the power and provoked by the
insolence of that Court of which, while he contemplated
it only at a distance, he had formed a favourable opinion.
He found that his country was despised. He saw his
religion persecuted. His of&cial character did not save
him from some personal affronts which, to the latest
day of his long career, he never forgot. He went home
a devoted adherent of William and a mortal enemy of
Lewis.*
The office of Pensionary, always important, was pe-
culiarly important when the Stadtholder was absent
from the Hague. Had the politics of Heinsius been
still what they once were, all the great designs of Wil-
liam might have been frustrated. But happily there
was between these two eminent men a perfect friendship
which, till death dissolved it, appears never to have
been interrupted for one moment by suspicion or ill
humour. On all large questions of European policy
they cordially agreed. They corresponded assiduously
and most unreservedly. For though William was slow
to give his confidence, yet, when he gave it, he gave it
entire. The correspondence is still extant, and is most
honourable to both. The King's letters would alone
suffice to prove that he was one of the greatest states-
men whom Europe has produced. While he lived, the
Pensionary was content to be the most obedient, the
most trusty, and the most discreet of servants. But,
after the death of the master, the servant proved him-
self capable of supplying with eminent ability the ntias-
ter's place, and was renowned throughout Europe as
♦ NegociationB de M. Le Comte d'Avaux, 4 Mars l683 ; Torcy'i
Memoirs.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 69
one of the great Triumvirate which humbled the pride
of Lewis the Fourteenth.*
The foreign policy of England, directed immediately 1^*9-
by William in close concert with Heinsius, was, at this ^pS^JJ*
time, eminently skilful and successfiil. But in every
other part of the administration the evils arising from
the mutual animosity of factions were but too plainly
discernible. Nor was this all. To the evils arising
from the mutual animosity of factions were added other
cvUs arising from the mutual animosity of sects.
The year 1689 is a not less important epoch in the
ecclesiastical than in the civil history of England. In
that year was granted the first legal indulgence to Dis-
senters. In that year was made the last serious attempt
to bring the Presbyterians within the pale of the Church
of England. From that year dates a new schism, made,
in defiance of ancient precedents, by men who had always
professed to regard schism with peculiar abhorrence,
and ancient precedents with peculiar veneration. In
that year began the long struggle between two great
parties of conformists. Those parties indeed had, under
various forms, existed within the Anglican communion
ever since the Reformation ; but till after the Revo-
lution they did not appear marshalled in regular and
permanent order of battle against each other, and were
therefore not known by established names. Some time
after the accession of William they began to be called
the High Church party and the Low Church party ;
and, long before the end of his reign, these appellations
were in common use.f
In the summer of 1688 the breaches which had long
* The original correspondence of quotes passages in his " Histoire des
William and Heinsius is in Dutch, luttes et rivalites entre Ics puissances
A French translation of all William's maritimes et la France." There i«
letters^ and an English translation very little difference in substance,
of a few of Heinsius*s letters, are though much in phraseology, between
among the Mackintosh MSS. The his version and that which I have
Baron Sirtema de Grovestins^ who has used.
had access to the originals^ frequently f Though these very convenient
Jf 9
70 HISTOBY OF ENGLAKD.
CHAP, divided the great body of English Protestants had
1_ seemed to be ahnost closed. Disputes about Bishops
i^89« and Synods, written prayers and extemporaneous pray-
ers, white gowns and black gowns, sprinkling and dip-
ping, kneeling and sitting, had been for a short space
intermitted. The serried array which was then drawn
up against Popery measured the whole of the vast in-
terval which separated Bancroft from Bunyan. Prelates
recently conspicuous as persecutors now declared them-
selves friends of religious liberty, and exhorted their
clergy to live in a constant interchange of hospitality
and of kind offices with the separatists. Separatists,
on the other hand, who had recently considered mitres
and lawn sleeves as the livery of Antichrist, were put-
ting candles in windows and thro^ving faggots on bon-
fires in honour of the prelates.
These feelings continued to grow till they attained
their greatest height on the memorable day on which
the common oppressor finally quitted Whitehall, and
on which an innumerable multitude, tricked out in
orange ribands, welcomed the common deliverer to
Saint James's. When the clergy of London came,
headed by Compton, to express their gratitude to him
by whose instrumentality God had wrought salvation
for the Church and the State, the procession was
swollen by some eminent nonconformist divines. It
was delightful to many good men to learn that pious
and learned Presbyterian ministers had walked in the
train of a Bishop, had been greeted by him with fra-
ternal kindness, and had been announced by him in the
presence chamber as his dear and respected friends, se-
parated from him indeed by some differences of opinion on
minor points, but united to him by Christian charity and
by common zeal for the essentials of the reformed faith.
names are not, as far as I know, to I sliall use them without scruple, ms
be found in any book printed during others have done, in writing about
the earlier years of William's reign, the transactions of those years.
WILLIAM AND UABY. 71
There had never before been such a day in England ; chap.
and there has never since been such a day. The tide ^^
of feeling was already on the turn ; and the ebb was 1689.
even more rapid than the flow had been. In a very JJ« ^igh
few hours the High Churchman began to feel tender- party,
ness for the enemy whose tyranny was now no longer
feared, and dislike of the allies whose services were now
no longer needed. It was easy to gratify both feelings
by imputing to the dissenters the xnisgovemment of
the exiled King. His Majesty — such was now the lan-
guage of too many Anglican divines — would have been
an excellent sovereign had he not been too confiding,
too forgiving. He had put his trust in a class of men
who hated his office, his family, his person, with im-
placable hatred. He had ruined himself in the vain '
attempt to conciliate them. He had relieved them, in
defiance of law and of the unanimous sense of the old
royalist party, from the pressure of the penal code; had
allowed them to worship God publicly after their own
mean and tasteless fashion ; had admitted them to the
bench of justice and to the Privy Council ; had gratified
them with fur robes, gold chains, salaries, and pensions.
In return for his liberality, these people, once so un-
couth in demeanour, once so savage in opposition even
to legitimate authority, had become the most abject of
flatterers. They had continued to applaud and encou-
rage him when the most devoted friends of his family
had retired in shame and sorrow from his palace. Who
had more foully sold the religion and liberty of his
country than Titus ? Who had been more zealous for
the dispensing power than Alsop ? Who had urged on
the persecution of the seven Bishops more fiercely than
Lobb? What chaplain impatient for a deanery had
ever, even when preaching in the royal presence on the
thirtieth of January or the twenty ninth of May, ut-
tered adulation more gross than might easily be found
in those addresses by which dissenting congregations
F 4
72 . HISTOBY OF ENGLAKB.
CHAP, had testified their gratitude for the illegal Declaration
of Indulgence ? Was it strange that a prince who had
i()89. never studied law books should have believed that he
was only exercising his rightful prerogative, when he
was thus encoOraged by a faction which had always
ostentatiously professed hatred of arbitrary power?
Misled by such guidance, he had gone further and
further in the wrong path : he had at length estranged
from him hearts which would once have poured forth
their best blood in his defence : he had left himself no
supporters except his old foes ; and, when the day of
peril came, he had found that the feeling of his old foes
towards him was still what it had been when they
had attempted to rob him of his inheritance, and when
they had plotted against his life. Every man of sense
had long known that the sectaries bore no love to mon-
archy. It had now been found that they bore as little
love to freedom. To trust them with power would be
an error not less fatal to the nation than to the throne.
If, in order to redeem pledges somewhat rashly given,
it should be thought necessary to grant them relief,
every concession ought to be accompanied by limit-
ations and precautions. Above all, no man who was
an enemy to the ecclesiastical constitution of the realm
ought to be^ permitted to bear any part in the civil
government.
The Low Between the nonconformists and the rigid conform-
ists stood the Low Church party. That party con-
tained, as it still contains, two very difierent elements, a
Puritan element and a Latitudinarian element. On al-
most every question, however, relating either to ecclesias-
tical polity or to the ceremonial of public worship, the
Puritan Low Churchman and the Latitudinarian I^ow
Churchman were perfectly agreed. They saw in the ex-
isting polity and in the existing ceremonial no defect, no
blemish, which could make it their duty to become dis-
senters. Nevertheless they held that both the polity and
Church
party.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 78
the ceremonial were means and not ends, and that the chap.
"VT
essential spirit of Christianity might exist without epi- ^ '
scopal orders and without a Book of Common Prayer. 1^89.
They had, while James was on the throne, been mainly
instrumental in forming the great Protestant coalition
against Popery and tyranny; and they continued in
1689 to hold the same conciliatory language which they
had held in 1688. They gently blamed the scruples of
the nonconformists. It was undoubtedly a great weak-
ness to imagine that there could be any sin in wearing a
white robe, in tracing a cross, in kneeling at the rails of an
altar. But the highest authority had given the plainest
directions as to the maimer in which such weakness
was to be treated. The weak brother was not to be
judged : he was not to be despised : believers who had
stronger minds were commanded to sooth him by large
compliances, and carefully to remove out of his path
every stumbling block which could cause him to offend.
An apostle had declared that, though he had himself
no misgivings about the use of animal food or of wine,
he would eat herbs and drink water rather than give
scandal to the feeblest of his flock. What would he
have thought of ecclesiastical rulers who, for the sake
of a vestment, a gesture, a posture, had not only torn
the Church asunder, but had filled aU the gaols of
England with men of orthodox faith and saintly life ?
The reflections thrown by the High Churchmen on
the recent conduct of the dissenting body the Low
Churchmen pronounced to be grossly unjust. The
wonder was, not that a few nonconformists should
have accepted with thanks an indulgence which, illegal
as it was, had opened the doors of their prisons and
given security to their hearths, but that the noncon-
formists generally should have been true to the cause
of a constitution from the benefits of which they had
been long excluded. It was most unfair to impute
to a great party the faults of a few individuals. Even
74 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP among the Bishops of the Established Church James
^^' had found todls and sycophants. The conduct of Cart-
i6sy. wright and Parker had been much more inexcusable
than that of Alsop and Lobb. Yet those who held
the dissenters answerable for the errors of Alsop and
Lobb would doubtless think it most unreasonable to
hold the Church answerable for the far deeper guilt of
Cartwright and Parker.
The Low Church clergymen were a minority, and not
a large minority, of their profession : but their weight
was much more than proportioned to their numbers :
for they mustered strong in the capital : they had
great iiiiuence there ; and the average of intellect and
knowledge was higher among them than among their
order generally. We should probably overrate their
numerical strength, if we were to estimate them at a
tenth part of the priesthood. Yet it will scarcely be
denied that there were among them as many men of
distinguished eloquence and learning as could be found
in the other nine tenths. Among the laity who con-
formed to the established religion the parties were not
unevenly balanced. Lideed the line which separated
them deviated very little from the line which separated
the Whigs and the Tories. In the House of Commons,
which had been elected when the Whigs were trium-
phant, the Low Church party greatly preponderated.
In the Lords there was an almost exact equipoise ; and
very slight circumstances sufficed to turn the scale.
William's The head of the Low Church party was the King. He
cerahi^- ^^^ ^^^^ bred a Presbyterian : he was, from rational
ciMiMticai conviction, a Latitudinarian ; and personal ambition, as
weU as higher motives, prompted him to act as medi-
ator among Protestant sects. He was bent on effecting
three great reforms in the laws touching ecclesiastical
matters. His first object was to obtain for dissenters
permission to celebrate their worship in freedom and
security. His second object was to make such changes
WILLIAM AND MARY. 75
in the Anglican ritual and polity as, without offending chap.
those to whom that ritual and polity were dear, might ^'
conciliate the moderate nonconformists. His third object 1689.
was to throw open civil offices to Protestants without
distinction of sect. All his three objects were good ; but
the first only was at that time attainable. He came too
late for the second, and too eariy for the third.
A few days after his accession, he took a step which ^?™^»
indicated, in a manner not to be mistaken, his senti- Saiisburj.
ments touching ecclesiastical polity and public worship.
He found only one see unprovided with a Bishop.
Seth Ward, who had during many years had charge of
the diocese of Salisbury, and who had been honourably
distinguished as one of the founders of the Eoyal
Society, having long survived his faculties, died while
the country was agitated by the elections for the Con-
vention, without knowing that great events, of which
not the least important had passed under his own roof,
had saved his Church and his country from ruin. The
choice of a successor was no light matter. That choice
would inevitably be considered by the country as a
prognostic of the highest import. The King too might
well be perplexed by the number of divines whose
erudition, eloquence, courage, and uprightness had been
conspicuously displayed during the contentions of the
last three years. The preference was given to Burnet.
His claims were doubtless great. Yet William might
have had a more tranquil reign if he had postponed for
a time the well earned promotion of his chaplain, and
had bestowed the first great spiritual preferment, which,
after the Eevolution, fell to the disposal of the Crown,
on some eminent theologian, attached to the new set-
tlement, yet not generally hated by the clergy. Un-
happily the name of Burnet was odious to the great
majority of the Anglican priesthood. Though, as re-
spected doctrine, he by no means belonged to the
extreme section of the Latitudinarian party, he was
76 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
popularly regarded as the personification of the Latitu-
dinarian spirit. This distinction he owed to the promi-
1689. nent place which he held in literature and politics, to
the readiness of his tongue and of his pen, and above
all to the frankness and boldness of his nature, frankness
which could keep no secret, and boldness which flinched
from no danger. He had formed but a low estimate of
the character of his clerical brethren considered as a
body; and, with his usual indiscretion, he frequently
suffered his opinion to escape him. They hated him in
return with a hatred which has descended to their suc-
cessors, and which, after the lapse of a century and a
half, does not appear to languish.
As soon as the King's decision was known, the
question was every where asked. What will the Arch-
bishop do? Bancroft had absented himself from the
Convention : he had reftised to sit in the Privy Council :
he had ceased to confirm, to ordain, and to institute;
and he was seldom seen out of the walls of his pa-
lace at Lambeth. He, on all occasions, professed to
think himself stiU bound by his old oath of allegiance.
Burnet he regarded as a scandal to the priesthood, a
Presbyterian in a surplice. The prelate who should
lay hands on that unworthy head would commit more
than one great sin. He would, in a sacred place, and
before a great congregation of the faithfiil, at once
acknowledge an usurper as a King, and confer on a
schismatic the character of a Bishop. During some
time Bancroft positively declared that he would not
obey the precept of William. Lloyd of Saint Asaph,
wJio was the common friend of the Archbishop and of
the Bishop elect, intreated and expostulated in vain.
Nottingham, who, of all the laymen connected ^vith the
new government, stood best with the clergy, tried his
influence, but to no better purpose. The Jacobites
said every where that they were sure of the good old
Primate ; that he had the spirit of a martyr ; that he
WILLIAM AND MABY. 77
was determined to brave, in the cause of the Monarchy chap.
and of the Church, the utmost rigour of those laws L.
with which the obsequious parliaments of the sixteenth i^W.
century had fenced the Royal Supremacy. He did in
truth hold out long. But at the last moment his heart
failed him, and he looked round him for some mode
of escape. Fortunately, as childish scruples often dis-
turbed his conscience, childish expedients often quieted
it. A more childish expedient than that to which he
now resorted is not to be found in all the tomes of the
casuists. He would not himself bear a part in the
service. He would not publicly pray for the Prince
and Princess as King and Queen. He would not call
for their mandate, order it to be read, and then proceed
to obey it. But he issued a commission empowering
any three of his suflFragans to commit, in his name,
and as his delegates, the sins which he did not choose
to commit in person. The reproaches of all parties
soon made him ashamed of himself. He then tried to
suppress the evidence of his fault by means more dis-
creditable than the fault itself. He abstracted from
among the public records of which he was the guardian
the instrument by which he had authorised his brethren
to act for him, and was with difficulty induced to give
it up.*
Burnet however had, under the authority of this
instrument, been consecrated. When he next waited
on Mary, she reminded him of the conversations which
they had held at the Hague about the high duties and
grave responsibility of Bishops. " I hope," she said,
"that you will put your notions in practice." Her
hope was not disappointed. Whatever may be thought
of Burnet's opinions touching civil and ecclesiastical
polity, or of the temper and judgment which he showed
in defending those opinions, the utmost malevolence
* Burnet^ ii. 8. ; Birch'e Life of Tillotson ; Life of Kettlewell, part ill.
section 62.
78 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, of faction could not venture to deny that he tended
^^ his flock with a zeal, diligence, and disinterestedness
1689. worthy of the purest ages of the Church. His juris-
diction extended over Wiltshire and Berkshire. These
counties he divided into districts which he sedulously
visited. About two months of every summer he passed
in preaching, catechizing, and confirming daily from
church to church. When he died there was no comer
of his diocese in which the people had not had seven or
eight opportunities of receiving his instructions and of
asking his advice. The worst weather, the worst roads,
did not prevent him from discharging these duties.
On one occasion, when the floods were out, he exposed
his life to imminent risk rather than disappoint a rural
congregation which was in expectation of a discourse
from the Bishop. The poverty of the inferior clergy
was a constant cause of uneasiness to his kind and
generous heart. He was indefatigable and at length
successful in his attempts to obtain for them from the
Crown that grant which is known by the name of
Queen Anne's Bounty.* He was especially careful,
when he travelled through his diocese, to lay no burden
on them. Instead of requiring them to entertain him,
he entertained them. He always fixed his headquarters
at a market town, kept a table there, and, by his decent
hospitality and munificent charities, tried to conciliate
those who were prejudiced against his doctrines. When
he bestowed a poor benefice, and he had many such to
bestow, his practice was to add out of his own purse
twenty pounds a year to the income. Ten promising
young men, to each of whom he allowed thirty pounds
a year, studied divinity under his own eye in the close
of Salisbury. He had several children : but he did
not think himself justified in hoarding for them. Their
* Swift, writing under the name Church. Swift cannot have been
of Gregory Misosarum, most malig- ignorant that the Church was in-
nantly and dishonestly represents debtcd for the grant chiefly to Bar-
Burnet as grudging this grant to the net*s persevering exertions.
WILLIAM AND MAKY, 79
mother had brought him a good fortune. With that chap
fortune, he always said, they must be content. He ^^'
would not, for their sakes, be guilty of the crime of 1^89.
raising an estate out of revenues sacred to piety and
charity. Such merits as these wiU, in the judgment of
wise and candid men, appear fuUy to atone for every
offence which can be justly imputed to him.*
When he took his seat in the House of Lords, he Notting-
found that assembly busied in ecclesiastical legisla- ^*^con-
tion. A statesman who was well known to be devoted cemingee-
to the Church had undertaken to plead the cause of poUty.
the Dissenters. No subject in the realm occupied so
important and commanding a position with reference
to religious parties as Nottingham. To the influence
derived from rank, fipom wealth, and from office, he
added the higher influence which belongs to knowledge,
to eloquence, and to integrity. The orthodoxy of his
creed, the regularity of his devotions, and the purity of
his morals gave a peculiar weight to his opinions on
questions in which the interests of Christianity were
concerned. Of all the ministers of the new Sovereigns,
he had the largest share of the confidence of the clergy.
Shrewsbury was certainly a Whig, and probably a free-
thinker : he had lost one religion ; and it did not
very clearly appear that he had found another. Halifax
had been during many years accused of scepticism,
deism, atheism. Danby's attachment to episcopacy
and the liturgy was rather political than religious.
But Nottingham was such a son as the Church was
proud to own. Propositions, therefore, which, if made
by his colleagues, would infallibly produce a violent
* See the Life of Burnet, at the Anecdotes. A most honourable tes-
end of the second volume of his his- timonj to Burnet*s virtues, given by
tory, his manuscript memoirs, Harl. another Jacobite who had attacked
6584, his memorials touching the him fiercely, and whom he had treated
First Fruits and Tenths, and Somers's generously, the learned and upright
letter to him on that subject. See Thomas Baker, will be found in the
also what Dr. King, Jacobite as he Gentleman's Magazine for August
was, had ihe justice to say in his and September, 1791*
80 lUSTOUY OP ENGLAND.
CHAP, panic among the clergy, might, if made by Imn, find a
favourable reception even in universities and chapter
1689. houses. The friends of religious liberty were with good
reason desirous to obtain his cooperation ; and, up to
a certain point, he was not unwilling to cooperate with
them. He was decidedly for a toleration. He was
even for what was then called a comprehension : that
is to say, he was desirous to make some alterations in
the Anglican discipline and ritual for the purpose of re-
moving the scruples of the moderate Presbyterians. But
he was not prepared to give up the Test Act. The only
fault which he found with that Act was that it was not
sufficiently stringent, and that it left loopholes through
which schismatics sometimes crept into civil employ-
ments. In truth it was because he was not disposed
to part with the Test that he was willing to consent
to some changes in the Liturgy. He conceived that,
if the entrance of the Church were but a very little
widened, great numbers who had hitherto lingered near
the threshold would press in. Those who still remained
without would then not be sufficiently numerous or
powerful to extort any further concession, and would
be glad to compound for a bare toleration.*
The opinion of the Low Churchmen concerning the
Test Act differed widely from his. But many of them
thought that it was of the highest importance to have his
support on the great questions of Toleration and Com-
prehension. From the scattered fragments of inform-
ation which have come down to us, it appears that a
compromise was made. It is quite certain that Not-
tingham undertook to bring in a Toleration BiU and a
Comprehension Bill, and to use his best endeavours to
carry both bills through the House of Lords. It is
highly probable that, in return for this great service,
* Oldmixon would have us believe supported by evidence, is of no
that Nottingham was not^ at this weight whatever; and all the evi-
time^ unwilling to give up the Test dence which he produces makes
Act. But Oldroixon*s assertion^ un- against his assertion.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 81
some of the leading Whigs consented to let the Test chap.
Act remain for the present unaltered.
There was no difficulty in framing either the Tole- 1^89.
ration Bill or the Comprehension Bill. The situation
of the dissenters had been much discussed nine or
ten years before, when the kingdom was distracted by
the fear of a Popish plot, and when there was among
Protestants a general disposition to unite against the
common enemy. The government had then been wiU-
' ing to make large concessions to the Whig party, on
■ condition that the crown should be suffered to descend
• according to the regular course. A draught of a law
authorising the public worship of the nonconformists,
and a draught of a law making some alterations in the
public worship of the Established Church, had been
prepared, and would probably have been passed by both
Houses mthout difficulty, had not Shaftesbury and his
coadjutors refused to listen to any terms, and, by grasp-
ing at what was beyond their reach, missed advantages
which might easily have been secured. In the framing
of these draughts, Nottingham, then an active member
of the House of Commons, had borne a considerable
part. He now brought them forth from the obscurity
in which they had remained since the dissolution of
the Oxford Parliament, and laid them, with some slight
alterations, on the table of the Lords.*
The Toleration Bill passed both Houses with little The To-
debate. This celebrated statute, long considered as the ^^l^^^^
Great Charter of religious liberty, has since been ex-
tensively modified, and is hardly known to the present
generation except by name. The name, however, is still
pronounced with respect by many who will perhaps
learn with surprise and disappointment the real nature
* Burnet, ii. 6. ; Van Citters to from His Majesty's Declaration, with
the States Oeneral, March •^. 1689 ; a Bill for Comprehension and InduU
King William's Toleration, being gence, drawn up in order to an Act
an explanation of that liberty of of Parliament, licensed March 25.
conscience which may be expected 1689.
VOL. III. Q
82 HISTORY OF ENOLAKD.
CHAP, of the law which they have been accustomed to hold m
honour.
1689. Several statutes which had been passed between the
accession of Queen Elizabeth and the Kevolution re-
quired all people under severe penalties to attend the
services of the Church of England, and to abstain from
attending conventicles. The Toleration Act did not
repeal any of these statutes, but merely provided that
they should not be construed to extend to any person
who should testify his loyalty by taking the Oaths of
Allegiance and Supremacy, and his Protestantiam by
subscribing the Declaration against Transubstantiation.
The relief thus granted was common between the
dissenting laity and the dissenting clergy. But the
dissenting clergy had some peculiar grievances. The
Act of Uniformity had laid a mulct of a hundred
pounds on every person who, not having received ^i-
scopal ordination, should presume to administer the
Eucharist. The Five Mile Act had driven many pious
and learned ministers from their houses and their
friends, to live among rustics in obscure villages of
which the name was not to be seen on the map. The
Conventicle Act had imposed heavy fines on divines who
should preach in any meeting of separatists ; and, in
direct opposition to the humane spirit of our common
law, the Courts were enjoined to construe this Act
largely and beneficially for the suppressing of dissent
and for the encouraging of informers. These severe
statutes were not repealed, but were, with many condi-
tions and precautions, relaxed. It was provided that
every dissenting minister should, before he exercised
his function, profess under his hand his belief in the
articles of the Church of England, with a few excep-
tions. The propositions to which he was not requir^
to assent were these; that the Church has power to
regulate ceremonies ; that the doctrines set forth in
the Book of Homilies are sound; and that there is
nothing superstitious and idolatrous in the ordination
WILLIAM ASD MA,BY. 63
service. K lie declared himself a Baptist, he was also "chap.
excused from affirming that the baptism of infants is ^^'
a laudable practice. But, unless his conscience suffered i689.
him to subscribe thirty four of the thirty nine articles,
and the greater part of two other articles, he could not
preach without incurring all the punishments which
the Cavaliers, in the day of their power and their ven-
geance, had devised for the tormenting and ruining of
schismatical teachers.
The situation of the Quaker differed from that of
other dissenters, and differed for the worse. The Pres-
byterian, the Independent, and the Baptist had no
scruple about the Oath of Supremacy. But the Quaker
refused to take it, not because he objected to the pro-
position that foreign sovereigns and prelates have no
jurisdiction in England, but because his conscience
would not suffer him to swear to any proposition what-
ever. He was therefore exposed to the severity of part
of that penal code which, long before Quakerism existed,
had been enacted against Eoman Catholics by the Par-
liaments of Elizabeth. Soon after the Eestoration, a
severe law, distinct from the general law which applied
to all conventicles, had been passed against meetings of
Quakers. The Toleration Act permitted the members
of this harmless sect to hold their assemblies in peace,
on condition of signing three documents, a declaration
against Transubstantiation, a promise of fidelity to the
government, and a confession of Christian belief. The
objections which the Quaker had to the Athanasian
phraseology had brought on him the imputation of So-
cinianism; and the strong language in which he some-
times asserted that he derived his knowledge of spiritual
things directly from above had raised a suspicion that
he thought lightly of the authority of Scripture. He was
therefore required to profess his faith in the divinity of
the Son and of the Holy Ghost, and in the inspiration
of the Old and New Testaments.
O 8
84 mSTOBY OF EKOLAND.
CHAP. Such were the terms on which the Protestant dissenters
^^ of England were, for the first time, permitted by law to
1689. worship God according to their own conscience. They
were very properly forbidden to assemble with barred
doors, but were protected against hostile intrusion by a
clause which made it penal to enter a meeting house for
the purpose of molesting the congregation.
As if the numerous limitations and precautions which
have been mentioned were insufficient, it was emphati-
cally declared that the legislature did not intend to
grant the smallest indulgence to any Papist, or to any
person who denied the doctrine of the Trinity as that
doctrine is set forth in the formularies of the Church
of England.
Of all the Acts that have ever been passed by Parlia*
ment, the Toleration Act is perhaps that which most
strikingly illustrates the peculiar vices and the peculiar
excellences of English legislation. The science of Po-
litics bears in one respect a close analogy to the science
of Mechanics. The mathematician can easily demon-
strate that a certain power, applied by means of a certain
lever or of a certain system of pulleys, will suffice to
raise a certain weight. But his demonstration proceeds
on the supposition that the machinery is such as no load
wiU bend or break. If the engineer, who has to lifk a
great mass of real granite by the instrumentality of real
timber and real hemp, should absolutely rely on the pro-
positions which he finds in treatises on Dynamics, and
should make no allowance for the imperfection of his
materials, his whole apparatus of beams, wheels, and ropes
would soon come down in ruin, and, with aU his geo-
metrical skill, he would be found a far inferior builder to
those painted barbarians who, though they never heard
of the parallelogram of forces, managed to pile up Stone-
henge. What the engineer is to the mathematician, the
active statesman is to the contemplative statesman. It
is indeed most important that legislators and administra*
WILLIAM AKD MABT. 85
tors should be versed in the philosophy of government, chap.
ns it is most important that the arclutect, who has to
fix an obelisk on its pedestal, or to hang a tubular bridge 1^89.
over an estuary, should be versed in the philosophy
of equilibrium and motion. But, as he who has ac-
tually to build must bear in mind many things never
noticed by D'Alembert and Euler, so must he who
has actually to govern be perpetually guided by con-
siderations to which no allusion can be foimd in the
writings of Adam Smith or Jeremy Bentham. The per-
fect lawgiver is a just temper between the mere man
of theory, who can see nothing but general principles,
and the mere man of business, who can see nothing but
particular circumstances. Of lawgivers in whom the spe-
culative element has prevailed to the exclusion of the
practical, the world has during the last eighty years been
singularly fruitful. To their wisdom Europe and Ame-
rica have owed scores of abortive constitutions, scores
of constitutions which have lived just long enough to
make a miserable noise, and have then gone off in con-
vulsions. But in the English legislature the practical
element has always predominated, and not seldom un-
duly predominated, over the speculative. To think no-
thing of symmetry and much of convenience ; never to
remove an anomaly merely because it is an anomaly ;
never to innovate except when some grievance is felt ;
never to innovate except so far as to get rid of the
grievance; never to lay down any proposition of wider
extent than the particular case for which it is necessary
to provide ; these are the rules which have, from the
age of John to the age of Victoria, generally guided the
deliberations of our two hundred and fifty Parliaments.
Our national distaste for whatever is abstract in political
science amounts undoubtedly to a fault. Yet it is, per-
haps, a fault on the right side. That we have been far
too slow to improve our laws must be admitted. But,
though in other countries there may have occasionally
G 3
86 HISTORY OF ENQLAin).
CHAP, been more rapid progress, it would not be easy to name
« any other country in which there has been so little re-
1689. trogression.
The Toleration Act approaches very near to the idea
of a great English law. To a jurist, versed in the
theory of legislation, but not intimately acquainted
with the temper of the sects and parties into which the
nation was divided at the time of the Revolution, that
Act would seem to be a mere chaos of absurdities and
contradictions. It will not bear to be tried by sound
general principles. Nay, it will not bear to be tried by
any principle, sound or unsound. The sound principle
undoubtedly is, that mere theological error ought not
to be punished by the civil magistrate. This princi]de
the Toleration Act not only does not recognise, but
positively disclaims. Not a single one of the cruel laws
enacted against nonconformists by the Tudors or the
Stuarts is repealed. Persecution continues to be the
general rule. Toleration is the exception. Nor is
this all. The freedom which is given to conscience is
given in the most capricious manner. A Quaker, by
making a declaration of faith in general terms, obtains
the full benefit of the Act without signing one of the
thirty nine Articles. An Independent minister, who
is perfectly willing to make the declaration required
from the Quaker, but who has doubts about six or
seven of the Articles, remains still subject to the penal
laws. Howe is liable to punishment if he preaches
before he has solemnly declared his assent to the
Anglican doctrine touching the Eucharist. Penn, who
altogether rejects the Eucharist, is at perfect liberty
to preach without making any declaration whatever on
the subject.
These are some of the obvious faults which must
strike every person who examines the Toleration Act
by that standard of just reason which is the same in
all countries and in all ages. But these very fianlts
WILLIAM AND MABY. 87
may perhaps appear to be merits, when we take into chap.
consideration the passions and prejudices of those for 1_
whom the Toleration Act was framed. This law, 1689.
abounding with contradictions which every smatterer
in political philosophy can detect, did what a law
framed by the utmost skill of the greatest masters of
political philosophy might have failed to do. That the
provisions which have been recapitulated are cumbrous,
puerile, inconsistent with each other, inconsistent with
the true theory of religious liberty, must be acknow-
ledged. All that can be said in their defence is this ;
that they removed a vast mass of evil without shocking
a vast mass of prejudice ; that they put an end, at
once and for ever, without one division in either House
of Parliament, without one riot in the streets, with
scarcely one audible murmur even from the classes
most deeply tainted with bigotry, to a persecution
which had raged during four generations, which had
broken innumerable hearts, which had made innumer-
able firesides desolate, which had filled the prisons with
men of whom the world was not worthy, which had
driven thousands of those honest, diligent and god-
fearing yeomen and artisans, who are the true strength
of a nation, to seek a refuge beyond the ocean among
the wigwams of red Indians and the lairs of panthers.
Such a defence, however weak it may appear to some
shallow speculators, will probably be thought complete
by statesmen.
The English, in 1689, were by no means disposed to
admit the doctrine that religious error ought to be left
unpunished. That doctrine was just then more un-
popular than it had ever been. For it had, only a few
months before, been hypocritically put forward as a
pretext for persecuting the Established Church, for
trampling on the fundamental laws of the realm, for
confiscating freeholds, for treating as a crime the
modest exercise of the right of petition. If a biU
G 4
,3idi~r ^■**^^''
88 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
had then been drawn up granting entire fireedom of
conscience to all Protestants, it may be confidently
1689. affirmed that Nottingham would never have introduced
such a bill ; that all the bishops, Burnet induded,
would have voted against it ; that it would have been
denounced, Sunday after Sunday, from ten thousand
pulpits, as an insult to Grod and to all Christian men,
and as a license to the worst heretics and blasphemers ;
that it would have been condemned almost as vehe-
mently by Bates and Baxter as by Ken and Sherlock;
that it would have been burned by the mob in half the
market places of England; that it would never have
become the law of the land, and that it would have
made the very name of toleration odious during many
years to the majority of the people. And yet, if sudi
a bill had been passed, what would it have effected
beyond what was effected by the Toleration Act ?
It is true that the Toleration Act recognised perse-
cution as the rule, and granted liberty of conscience
only as the exception. But it is equally true that the
rule remained in force only against a few hundreds of
Protestant dissenters, and that the benefit of the excep-
tions extended to hundreds of thousands.
It is true that it was in theory absurd to make Howe
sign thirty four or thirty five of the Anglican articles
before he could preach, and to let Penn preach without
signing one of those articles. But it is equally true
that, under this arrangement, both Howe and Penn got
as entire liberty to preach as they could have had
under the most philosophical code that Beccaria or
Jefferson could have framed.
The progress of the bill was easy. Only one amend-
ment of grave importance was proposed. Some zealous
churchmen in the Commons suggested that it might
be desirable to grant the toleration only for a term of
seven years, and thus to bind over the nonconformists
to good behaviour. But this suggestion was so un-
WILLIAM AND MARY. 89
favourably received that those who made it did not chap.
venture to divide the House.* ^''
The King gave his consent with hearty satisfaction : 1689.
the bill became law ; and the Puritan divines thronged
to the Quarter Sessions of every county to swear and
sign. Many of them probably professed their assent
to the Articles with some tacit reservations. But the
tender conscience of Baxter would not suffer him to
qualify, till he had put on record an explanation of the
sense in which he understood every proposition which
seemed to him to admit of misconstruction. The in-
strument delivered by him to the Court before which
he took the oaths is still extant, and contains two
passages of peculiar interest. He declared that his
approbation of the Athanasian Creed was confined to
that part which was properly a Creed, and that he did
not mean to express any assent to the damnatory
clauses. He also declared that he did not, by signing
the article which anathematizes all who maintain that
there is any other salvation than through Christ, mean
to condemn those who entertain a hope that sincere and
virtuous unbelievers may be admitted to partake in the
benefits of Redemption. Many of the dissenting clergy
of London expressed their concurrence in these charit-
able sentiments.f
The history of the Comprehension Bill presents a xheCom-
remarkable contrast to the history of the Toleration g^L^"*'""^
Bill. The two bills had a common origin, and, to a
great extent, a common object. They were framed at
the same time, and laid aside at the same time : they
sank together into oblivion ; and they were, after the
lapse of several years, again brought together before the
world. Both were laid by the same peer on the table
of the Upper House ; and both were referred to the
* Commons* Journalsy May 17. by the Ministers of London^ I69O;
]689. Calamy*s Historical Additions to
t Sense of the subscribed articles Baxter's Life.
90 HISTOBT OF SNQLAin).
CHAP, same select committee. But it soon began to appear
^^ that they would have widely different fates. The
1689. Comprehension BiU was indeed a neater specimen of
legislative workmanship than the Toleration Bill, but
wa3 not, like the Toleration Bill, adapted to the wants,
the feelings, and the prejudices of the existing genera-
tion. Accordingly, while the Toleration Bill fonnd
support in all quarters, the Comprehension Bill was
attacked from all quarters, and was at last coldly and
languidly defended even by those who had introduced
it. About the same time at which the Toleration Bill
became law with the general concurrence of public
men, the Comprehension Bill was, with a concurrence
not less general, suffered to drop. The Toleration
Bill still ranks among those great statutes which are
epochs in our constitutional history. The Comprehen-
sion Bin is forgotten. No collector of antiquities has
thought it worth preserving. A single copy, the same
which Nottingham presented to the peers, is still
among our parliamentary records, but has been seen by
only two or three persons now living. It is a fortunate
circumstance that, in this copy, almost the whole
history of the Bill can be read. In spite of cancella-
tions and interlineations, the original words can easily
be distinguished from those which were inserted in the
committee or on the report.*
The first clause, as it stood when the bill was intro-
duced, dispensed all the ministers of the Established
Church from the necessity of subscribing the Thirty
nine Articles. For the Articles was substituted a
Declaration which ran thus ; " I do approve of the
doctrine and worship and government of the Church
* The bill will be found among torians. It was opened to me bj
the ArchiTes of the House of Lords, one of the most valued of mj friends,
It is strange that this vast collection Mr. John Lefevre ; and my re-
of important documents should have searches were greatly assisted by the
been altogether neglecte<l, even by kindness of Mr. Thoms*
our most exact and diligent his-
WILLIAM AND MABT. 91
of England by law established, as containing all things chap.
necessary to salvation ; and I promise, in the exercise L.
of my ministry, to preach and practise accordhig there- ^^^9-
unto." Another clause granted similar indulgence to
the members of the two universities.
Then it was provided that any minister who had
been ordained after the Presbyterian fashion might,
without reordination, acquire all the privileges of a
priest of the Established Church. He must, however,
be admitted to his new functions by the imposition of
the hands of a bishop, who was to pronounce the fol-
lo^vdng form of words ; " Take thou authority to preach
the word of God, and administer the sacraments, and
to perform all other ministerial offices in the Church of
England." The person thus admitted was to be capable
of holding any rectory or vicarage in the kingdom.
Then followed clauses providing that a clergyman
might, except in a few churches of peculiar dignity,
wear the surplice or not as he thought fit, that the sign
of the cross might be omitted in baptism, that children
might be christened, if such were the wish of their
parents, without godfathers or godmothers, and that
persons who had a scruple about receiving the Eucharist
kneeling might receive it sitting.
The concluding clause was drawn in the form of a
petition. It was proposed that the two Houses should
request the King and Queen to issue a commission
empowering thirty divines of the Established Church
to revise the liturgy, the canons, and the constitution
of the ecclesiastical courts, and to recommend such alter-
ations as might on inquiry appear to be desirable.
The bill went smoothly through the first stages.
Compton, who, since Bancroft had shut himself up at
Lambeth, was virtually Primate, supported Nottingham
with ardour.* In the committee, however, it appeared
* Among the Tanner MSS. in rions letter from Compton to San-
the Bodleian Library is a very cu- croft, aboat die Toleration Bill and
92 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, that there was a strong body of churchmen, wlio were
L. determined not to give up a single word or form;
16^9. to whom it seemed that the prayers were no prayers
without the surplice, the babe no Christian if not
marked with the cross, the bread and wine no memorials
of redemption or vehicles of grace if not received on
bended knee. Why, these persons asked, was the docile
and affectionate son of the Church to be disgusted
by seeing the irreverent practices of a conventicle
introduced into her majestic choirs ? Why should
his feelings, his prejudices, if prejudices they were,
be less considered than the whims of schismatics ? I^
as Burnet and men like Burnet were never weary of
repeating, indulgence was due to a weak brother, was it
less due to the brother whose weakness consisted in the
excess of his love for an ancient, a decent, a beautiful
ritual, associated in his imagination from childhood with
all that is most sublime and endearing, than to him
whose morose and litigious mind was always devising
frivolous objections to innocent and salutary usages ?
But, in truth, the scrupulosity of the Puritan was not
that sort of scrupulosity which the Apostle had com-
manded believers to respect. It sprang, not from
morbid tenderness of conscience, but from censorious-
ness and spiritual pride ; and none who had studied the
New Testament could have failed to observe that, while
we are charged carefully to avoid whatever may give
scandal to the feeble, we are taught by divine precept
and example to make no concession to the supercilious
and uncharitable Pharisee. Was every thing which
was not of the essence of religion to be given up as soon
as it became unpleasing to a knot of zealots whose heads
the Comprehension Bill. " These," though we are under a conquest,
says Compton, " are two great works God has given us favour in the eyes
in which the being of our Church of our rulers ; and we may keep
is concerned : and I hope you will our Church if we will." Sancroft
send to the House for copies. For, seems to have returned no answer.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 93
had been turned by conceit and the love of novelty ? chap.
Painted glass, music, holidays, fast days, were not of L.
the essence of religion. Were the windows of King's i68^
College chapel to be broken at the demand of one set
of fanatics ? Was the organ of Exeter to be silenced
to please another ? Were all the village bells to be
mute because Tribulation Wholesome and Deacon
Ananias thought them profane ? Was Christmas no
• longer to be a day of rejoicing ? Was Passion week
no longer to be a season of humiliation ? These
changes, it is true, were not yet proposed. But if,
— so the High Churchmen reasoned, — we once admit
that what is harmless and edifying is to be given up
because it offends some narrow understandings and
some gloomy tempers, where are we to stop ? And is
it not probable that, by thus attempting to heal one
schism, we may cause another ? All those things
which the Puritans regard as the blemishes of the
Church are by a large part of the population reckoned
among her attractions. May she not, in ceasing to give
scandal to a few sour precisians, cease also to influence
the hearts of many who now delight in her ordinances ?
Is it not to be apprehended that, for every proselyte
whom she allures from the meeting house, ten of her
old disciples may turn away from her maimed rites and
dismantled temples, and that these new separatists may
either form themselves into a sect far more formidable
than the sect which we are now seeking to conciliate,
or may, in the violence of their disgust at a cold and
ignoble worship, be tempted to join in the solemn and
gorgeous idolatry of Rome ?
It is remarkable that those who held this language
were by no means disposed to contend for the doctri-
nal Articles of the Church. The truth is that, from
the time of James the First, that great party which
has been peculiarly zealous for the Anglican polity
and the Anglican ritual has always leaned strongly
94 HISTOBY OF £NGLAin>.
CHAP, towards Arminianism, and has therefore never been
much attached to a confession of faith framed by re-
1689. formers who, on questions of metaphysical divinity,
generally agreed with Calvin. One of the characteristic
marks of that party is the disposition which it has
always shown to appeal, on points of dogmatic theology,
rather to the Liturgy, which was derived from Rome,
than to the Articles and Homilies, which were derived
from Greneva. The Calvinistic members of the Church, •
on the other hand, have always maintained that her de-
liberate judgment on such points is much more likely to
be foimd in an Article or a Homily than in an ejaculation
of penitence or a hymn of thanksgiving. It does not
appear that, in the debates on the Comprehension Bill,
a single High Churchman raised his voice against the
clause which relieved the clergy from the necessity of
subscribing the Articles, and of declaring the doctrine
contained in the Homilies to be sound. Nay, the De-
claration which, in the original draught, was substituted
for the Articles, was much softened down on the report.
As the clause finally stood, the ministers of the Church
were required to declare, not that they approved of her
constitution, but merely that they submitted to it. Had
the bill become law, the only people in the kingdom who
would have been under the necessity of signing the
Articles would have been the dissenting preachers.*
The easy manner in which the zealous friends of
the Church gave up her confession of faith presents a
striking contrast to the spirit with which they struggled
for her polity and her ritual. The clause which ad-
mitted Presbyterian ministers to hold benefices without
episcopal ordination was rejected. The clause which
permitted scrupulous persons to communicate sitting
very narrowly escaped the same fate. In the Committee
♦ The disUste of the High Church- 1689, and entitled a Dialogue be-
man for the Articles is the subject tween Timothy and Titus,
of a curious pamphlet published in
WILLIAM ANB MABT. 95
it was struck out, and, on the report, was with great chap,
difficulty restored. The majority of peers in the House ^"'
was against the proposed indulgence, and the scale was ^6^9-
but just turned by the proxies.
But by this time it began to appear that the bill
which the High Churchmen were so keenly assailing
was menaced by dangers from a very diflferent quarter.
The same considerations which had induced Notting-
ham to support a comprehension made comprehension
an object of dread and aversion to a large body of
dissenters. The truth is that the time for such a
scheme had gone by. If, a hundred years earlier, when
the division in the Protestant body was recent, Eliza-
beth had been so wise as to abstain from requiring the
observance of a few forms which a large part of her
subjects considered as Popish, she might perhaps have
averted those fearful calamities which, forty years after
her death, afflicted the Church. But the general ten-
dency of schism is to widen. Had Leo the Tenth, when
the exactions and impostures of the Pardoners first
roused the indignation of Saxony, corrected those evil
practices with a vigorous hand, it is not improbable
that Luther would have died in the bosom of the
Church of Rome. But the opportunity was suffered
to escape ; and, when, a few years later, the Vatican
would gladly have purchased peace by yielding the
original subject of quarrel, the original subject of
quarrel was ahnost forgotten. The inquiring spirit
which had been roused by a single abuse had discovered
or imagined a thousand: controversies engendered
controversies : every attempt that was made to ac-
commodate one dispute ended by producing another ;
and at length a General Council, which, during the
earlier stages of the distemper, had been supposed to
be an infallible remedy, made the case utterly hopeless.
In this respect, as in many others, the history of
Puritanism in England bears a close analogy to the
96 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
history of Protestantism in Europe. The Parliament
of 1689 could no more put an end to nonconformity
1689. by tolerating a garb or a posture than the Doctors of
Trent could have reconciled the Teutonic nations to
the Papacy by regulating the sale of indulgences. In
the sixteenth century Quakerism was unknown ; and
there was not in the whole realm a single congre-
gation of Independents or Baptists. At the time of
the Revolution, the Independents, Baptists, and Qua-
kers were a majority of the dissenting body ; and these
sects could not be gained over on any terms which the
lowest of Low Churchmen would have been willing to
offer. The Independent held that a national Church,
governed by any central authority whatever, Pope,
Patriarch, King, Bishop, or Synod, was an unscriptu-
i-al institution, and that every congregation of believera
was, under Christ, a sovereign society. The Baptist
was even more irreclaimable than the Independent, and
the Quaker even more irreclaimable than the Baptist.
Concessions, therefore, which would once have ex-
tinguished nonconformity would not now satisfy even
one half of the nonconformists ; and it was the obvious
interest of every nonconfonnist whom no concession
would satisfy that none of his brethren should be sa-
tisfied. The more liberal the terms of comprehension,
the greater was the alarm of every separatist who knew
that he could, in no c^se, be comprehended. There
was but slender hope that the dissenters, unbroken and
acting as one man, would be able to obtain from the
legislature full admission to civil privileges ; and all
hope of obtaining such admission must be relinquished
if Nottingham should, by the help of some wellmeaning
but shortsiglited friends of religious liberty, be enabled
to accomplish his design. If his bill passed, there would
doubtless be a considerable defection from the dissenting
body ; and every defection must be severely felt by a
class already outnumbered, depressed, and struggling
WILLIAM A^D MARY. 97
against powerful enemies. Every proselyte too must chap.
be reckoned twice over, as a loss to the party which L
was even now too weak, and as a gain to the party i^^9-
which was even now too strong. The Church was but
too well able to hold her own against all the sects in
the kingdom ; and, if those sects were to be thinned
by a large desertion, and the Church strengthened by
a large reinforcement, it was plain that all chance of
obtaining any relaxation of the Test Act would be at
an end ; and it was but too probable that the Tole-
ration Act might not long remain unrepealed.
Even those Presbyterian ministers whose scruples
the Comprehension Bill was expressly intended to re-
move were by no means unanimous in wishing it to
pass. The ablest and most eloquent preachers among
them had, since the Declaration of Indulgence had
appeared, been very agreeably settled in the capital and
in other large towns, and were now about to enjoy,
under the sure guarantee of an Act of Parliament, that
toleration which, under the Declaration of Indulgence,
had been illicit and precarious. The situation of these
men was such as the great majority of the divines of
the Established Church might well envy. Few indeed
of the parochial clergy were so abundantly supplied
with comforts as the favourite orator of a great as-
sembly of nonconformists in the City. The voluntary
contributions of his wealthy hearers. Aldermen and
Deputies, West India merchants and Turkey mer-
chants. Wardens of the Company of Fishmongers and
Wardens of the Company of Goldsmiths, enabled him
to become a landowner or a mortgagee. The best
broadcloth from Blackwell Hall, and the best poultry
from Leadenhall Market, were frequently left at his
door. His influence over his flock was immense.
Scarcely any member of a congregation of separatists
entered into a partnership, married a daughter, put a
son out as apprentice, or gave his vote at an election,
VOL. m. H
98
CHAP.
XL
1689.
HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
without consulting his spiritual guide. On all political
and literary questions the minister was the oracle of
his own circle. It was popularly remarked, during many
years, that an eminent dissenting minister had only to
make his son an attorney or a physician; that the atto^
ney was sure to have clients, and the physician to have
patients. While a waiting woman was generally consi-
dered as a help meet for a chaplain in holy orders of the
Established Church, the widows and daughters of opulent
citizens were supposed to belong in a peculiar manner
to nonconformist pastors. One of the great Presby-
terian Kabbies, therefore, might well doubt whether, in
a worldly view, he should be benefited by a compre-
hension. He might indeed hold a rectory or a vicarage,
when he could get one. But in the meantime he would
be destitute : his meeting house would be closed : his
congregation would be dispersed among the parish
churches : if a benefice were bestowed on him, it would
probably be a very slender compensation for the income
which he had lost. Nor could he hope to have, as a
minister of the Anglican Church, the authority and
dignity which he had hitherto enjoyed. He would always,
by a large portion of the members of that Church, be
regarded as a deserter. He might therefore, on the
whole, very naturally msh to be left where he was.*
* Tom Brown says^ in his scurri-
lous way» of the Presbyterian divines
of that time^ that their preaching
** brings in money^ and money buys
land ; and land is an amusement they
all desire, in spite of their hypocri-
tical cant. If it were not for the
quarterly contributions, there would
be no longer schism or separation.'*
He asks how it can be imagined that,
while ** they are maintained like gen-
tlemen by the breach, they will
ever preach up healing doctrines ? **
— Brown's Amusements, Serious and
Comical. Some curious instances of
the influence exercised by the chief
dissenting ministers may be fbnndiB
Hawkins's Life of Johnson. In the
Journal of the retired citisen (Spec-
tator, 317.) Addison hu indulged in
some exquisite pleasantry on tba
subject The Mr. Niaby whose
opinions about the peaces the Graad
Vizier, and laced cofiec, are qnoted
with so much respect, and who 11 10
well regaled with marrow bonea, ox
cheek, and a bottle of Brooks and
Hellier, was John Nesbit, a highly
popular preacher, who about the
time of the Revolution, became pas-
tor of a dissenting congregation in
Hare Courts Alderagate Street. In
\
I
WILLIAM AND MARY. 99
There was consequently a division in the Whig party, chap.
One section of that party was for relieving the dissen- — L
ters from the Test Act, and giving up the Comprehen- ^^^^'
sion Bill. Another section was for pushing forward
the Comprehension Bill, and postponing to a more con-
' venient time the consideration of the Test Act. The
* effect of this division among the friends of religious
' * liberty was that the High Churchmen, though a minority
' in the House of Commons, and not a majority in the
* House of Lords, were able to oppose with success both
' the reforms which they dreaded. The Comprehension
' Bill was not passed; and the Test Act was not repealed.
Just at the moment when the question of the Test
and the question of the Comprehension became compli-
cated together in a manner which might well perplex
an enlightened and honest politician, both questions
became complicated with a third question of grave
importance.
The ancient oaths of allegiance and supremacy con- The bill
* tained some expressions which had always been dis- fhewuhs"^
liked by the Whigs, and other expressions which Tories, of ai»e-
■ honestly attached to the new settlement, thought inap- fi^! *°
^ plicable to princes who had not the hereditary right. ^^^^'
■ The Convention had therefore, while the throne was
^ still vacant, framed those oaths of allegiance and su-
^ premacy by which we still testify our loyalty to our
i Sovereign. By the Act which turned the Convention
i into a Parliament, the members of both Houses were
J required to take the new oaths. As to other per-
I sons in public trust, it was hard to say how the law
]J stood. One form of words was enjoined by statutes,
regularly passed, and not yet regularly abrogated. A
different form was enjoined by the Declaration of Right,
Wilson's History and Antiquities of stances of nonconformist preachers
Dissenting Churches and Meeting who^ about this tiine^ made hand-
Houses in London^ Wiestminster^ and some fortunes, generallj, it should
Southwarky will be found sereral in- seem, by marriage.
B 2
f
100 HISTORY OF ENQLANB.
CHAP, an instrument which was indeed revolutionaTy and
^^' irregular, but which might well be thought equal in
1689. authority to any statute. The practice was in as much
confusion as the law. It was therefore felt to be neces-
sary that the legislature should, without delay, pass
an Act abolishing the old oaths, and determining when
and by whom the new oaths should be taken.
The bill which settled this important question ori-
ginated in the Upper House. As to most of the pro-
visions there was little room for dispute. It was
unanimously agreed that no person should, at aiqr
future time, be admitted to any office, civil, militaiy,
ecclesiastical, or academical, without taking the oaths
to William and Mary. It was also unanimously agreed
that every person who already held any civil or militaiy
office should be ejected from it, unless he took tltt
oaths on or before the first of August 1689. But the
strongest passions of both parties were excited by the
question whether persons who already possessed eccle-
siastical or academical offices should be required to
swear fealty to the Kdng and Queen on pain of depriva-
tion. None could say what might be the effect of a
law enjoining all the members of a great, a powerful, a
sacred profession to make, under the most solemn sanc-
tion of religion, a declaration which might be plausibly
represented as a formal recantation of all that they had
been writing and preaching during many years. The
Primate and some of the most eminent Bishops had al-
ready absented themselves from Parliament, and would
doubtless relinquish their palaces and revenues, rather
than acknowledge the new Sovereigns. The example
of these great prelates might perhaps be followed by
a multitude of divines of humbler rank, by hundreds
of canons, prebendaries, and fellows of colleges, by
thousands of parish priests. To such an event no
Tory, however clear his own conviction that he might
lawfully swear allegiance to the King who was in poB^
WILLIAM ANI> MAl^. 101
session, could look forward without: tire* most painful chap.
emotions of compassion for the sufferers and ^of anxiety ^^'
for the Church. .• / 1689.
There were some persons who went so far as- to deny
that the Parliament was competent to pass a law rfe-
quiring a Bishop to swear on pain of deprivation. No
earthly power, they said, could break the tie which
bound the successor of the apostles to his diocese.
What God had joined no man could sunder. Kings
and senates might scrawl words on parchment or im-
press figures on wax ; but those words and figures
could no more change the course of the spiritual than
the course of the physical world. As the Author of
the universe had appointed a certain order, according
to which it was His pleasure to send winter and
summer, seedtime and harvest, so He had appointed a
certain order, according to which He communicated His
grace to His Catholic Church ; and the latter order
was, like the former, independent of the powers and
principalities of the world. A legislature might alter
the names of the months, might call June December,
and December June ; but, in spite of the legislature,
the snow would fall when the sun was in Capricorn,
and the flowers would bloom when he was in Cancer.
And so the legislature might enact that Ferguson or
Muggleton should live in the palace at Lambeth, should
sit on the throne of Augustin, should be called Your
Grace, and should walk in processions before the Pre-
mier Duke ; but, in spite of the legislature, Sancroft
would, while Sancroft lived, be the only true Arch-
bishop of Canterbury; and the person who should pre-
sume to usurp the archiepiscopal functions would be a
schismatic. This doctrine was proved by reasons drawn
from the budding of Aaron's rod, and from a certain
plate which Saint James the Less, according to a legend
of the fourth century, used to wear on his forehead.
A Greek manuscript, relating to the deprivation of
H 3
102 lliaTuHY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. V/ishops, was (3is«^o\ ered, aYx>ut this time, in the Bodldai
^' Library, and became the subject of a furious oontroveny.
uisi). One pi>rt^\held that God had wonderfully brought tlus
precioua volume to light, for the guidance of His Ghordi
at .a most critical moment. The other party wondered
tliat any importance could be attached to the nonsense
of a nameless scribbler of the thirteenth century. Mack
was written about the deprivations of Glirysostom and
Photius, of Nicolaus Mysticus and Ckwrnas Atticm.
But the case of Abiathar, whom Solomon put out of
the sacerdotal office for treason, was discussed with [
peculiar eagerness. No small quantity of learning and I
ingenuity was expended in the attempt to prove that
Abiathar, though he wore the ephod and answered faj
Urim, was not really High Priest, that he ministered
only when his superior Zadoc was incapacitated bj
sickness or by some ceremonial pollution, and that
therefore the act of Solomon was not a precedent whidi
would warrant King William in deposing a real Bishop.*
But such reasoning as this, though backed by copious
citations from the Misna and Maimoiudes, was not ge-
nerally satisfactory even to zealous churchmen. For it
admitted of one answer, short, but perfectly intelligible
to a plain man who knew nothing about Greek £Eithen
or Levitical genealogies. There might be some doubt
whether King Solomon had ejected a high priest ; bat
tlicre could be no doubt at all that Queen Elizabeth had
ejected the Bishops of more than half the sees in England.
It was notorious that fourteen prelates had, without any
proceeding in any spiritual court, been deprived by Act
of Parliament for refusing to acknowledge her supre-
macy. Had that deprivation been null ? Had Bonner
continued to be, to the end of his life, the only true
* See, among many other tracts, of Priesthood, printed in l692. See
Dodweirs Cautionary Discourse, his also Hody's tracts on the other Mb,
Vindication of the Deprived Bishops, the Baroccian MS., and Solomon and
his Defence of the Vindication, and Ahiathar, a Dialogue hetween B«.
his Parcnesis ; and Bishy's Unity chercs and Dyscheres.
WILLIAM AND MART. 103
Bishop of London ? Had his successor been an usurper? chap.
Had Parker and Jewel been schismatics ? Had the Con- L
vocation of 1562, that Convocation which had finally i^^S-
settled the doctrine of the Church of England, been itself
out of the pale of the Church of Christ? Nothing could
be more ludicrous than the distress of those contro-
versialists who had to invent a plea for Elizabeth which
should not be also a plea for William. Some zealots,
indeed, gave up the vain attempt to distinguish be-
tween two cases which every man of common sense
perceived to be undistinguishable, and frankly owned
that the deprivations of 1559 could not be justified.
But no person, it was said, ought to be troubled
in mind on that account ; for, though the Church of
England might once have been schismatical, she had
become Catholic when the Bishops deprived by Elizabeth
had ceased to live.* The Tories, however, were not
generally disposed to admit that the religious society
to which they were fondly attached had originated in
an unlawful breach of unity. They therefore took
ground lower and more tenable. They argued the
question as a question of humanity and of expediency.
They spoke much of the debt of gratitude which the
nation owed to the priesthood; of the courage and
fidelity with which the order, from the primate down
to the youngest deacon, had recently defended the civil
and ecclesiastical constitution of the realm ; of the
memorable Sunday when, in all the hundred churches
of the capital, scarcely one slave could be found to
read the Declaration of Indulgence ; of the Black
Friday when, amidst the blessings and the loud weep-
ing of a mighty population, the barge of the seven
prelates passed through the Watergate of the Tower.
The firmness with which the clergy had lately, in de-
♦ Burnet, ii. 135. Of all at- was made by Dodwell. See his
tempts to distinguish between the Doctrine of the Church of England
deprivatious of 1559 and the depri- concerning the Independency of the
vations of 16B9, the most absurd Clergy on the lay Power^ 1 697.
H 4
104 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP fiance of menace and of seduction, done what they con-
L scientiously believed to be right, had saved the liberty
1^89. and religion of England. Was no indulgence to be
granted to them if they now refused to do what they con-
scientiously apprehended to be wrong ? And where, it
was said, is the danger of treating them with tende^
ness? Nobody is so absurd as to propose that they
shall be permitted to plot against the Government, or to
stir up the multitude to insurrection. They are amen-
able to the law, like other men. If they are goUty rf
treason, let them be hanged. K they are guilty of sedi-
tion, let them be fined and imprisoned. If they omit, m
their public ministrations, to pray for King WilUam,
for Queen Mary, and for the Parliament assembled
under those most religious sovereigns, let the penal
clauses of the Act of Uniformity be put in force. If
this be not enough, let his Majesty be empowered to
tender the oaths to any clergyman ; and, if the oaths
so tendered are refused, let deprivation follow. In
this way any nonjuring bishop or rector who may be
suspected, though he cannot be legally convicted, of in-
triguing, of wi'iting, of talking, against the present set-
tlement, may be at once removed from his office. But
why insist on ejecting a pious and laborious mmister of
religion, who never lifts a finger or utters a word against
the government, and who, as often as he performs morn-
ing and evening service, prays from his heart for a
blessing on the rulers set over him by Providence, but
who will not take an oath which seems to him to imply
a right in the people to depose a sovereign ? Surely we
do all that is necessary if we leave men of this sort at
the mercy of the very prince to whom they refuse to
swear fidelity. If he is willing to bear with their scru-
pulosity, if he considers them, notmthstanding their
prejudices, as innocent and useful members of society,
who else can be entitled to complain?
The Whigs were vehement on the other side. They
WILLIAM AND MABY. 105
scrutinised, with* ingenuity sharpened by hatred, the chap
claims of the clergy to the public gratitude, and some-
times went so far as altogether to deny that the order • ^^^9-
had in the preceding year deserved well of the nation.
It was true that bishops and priests had stood up
against the tyranny of the late King : but it was equally
^rue that, but for the obstinacy with which they had
opposed the Exclusion Bill, he never would have been
King, and that, but for their adulation and their doc-
trine of passive obedience, he would never have ventured
to be guilty of such tyranny. Their chief business,
during a quarter of a century, had been to teach the
people to cringe and the prince to domineer. They
were guilty of the blood of Russell, of Sidney, of every
brave and honest Englishman who had been put to
death for attempting to save the realm from Popery and
despotism. Never had they breathed a whisper against
arbitrary power till arbitrary power began to menace
their own property and dignity. Then, no doubt,
forgetting all their old commonplaces about submitting
to Nero, they had made haste to save themselves.
Grant, — such was the cry of these eager disputants,
— grant that, in saving themselves, they saved the con-
stitution. Are we therefore to forget that they had
previously endangered it ? And are we to reward them
by now permitting them to destroy it ? Here is a class
of men closely connected with the state. A large part
of the produce of the soil has been assigned to them
for their maintenance. Their chiefs have seats in the
legislature, wide domains, stately palaces. By this privi-
leged body the great mass of the population is lectured
every week from the chair of authority. To this privi-
leged body has been committed the supreme direction of
liberal education. Oxford and Cambridge, Westminster,
Winchester, and Eton, are under priestly government.
By the priesthood will to a great extent be formed the
character of the nobility and gentry of the next genera*
106 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CH AP. tion. Of the higher clergy some have in their gift nume-
!l rous and valuable benefices; others have the privilege
1689. of appointing judges who decide grave qaestions aflfect*
ing the liberty, the property, the reputation of their
Majesties' subjects. And is an order thus favoured by
the state to give no guarantee to the state ? On what
principle can it be contended that it is unnecessary iif
ask from an Archbishop of Canterbury or from a Bishop
of Durham that promise of fidelity to the government
which all allow that it is necessary to demand ficom
every layman who serves the Crown in the humblest
office. Every exciseman, every collector of the cus-
toms, who refuses to swear, is to be deprived <^ his
bread. For these humble martjrrs of passive obedience
and hereditary right nobody has a word to say. Yet
an ecclesiastical magnate^who refuses to swear is to
be suffered to retain emoluments, patronage, power,
equal to those of a great minister of state. It is said
tliat it is superfluous to impose the oaths on a cler-
gyman, because he may be punished if he breaks the
laws. Why is not the same argument urged in favour
of the layman ? And why, if the clergyman really
means to observe the laws, does he scruple to take the
oaths ? The law commands him to designate William
and Mary as King and Queen, to do this in the most
sacred place, to do this in the administration of the
most solemn of all the rites of religion. The law com-
mands him to pray that the illustrious pair may be
defended by a special providence, that they may be vic-
torious over every enemy, and that their Parliament
may by divine guidance be led to take such a course as
may promote their safety, honour, and welfare. Can
we believe that his conscience Avill suffijr him to do all
this, and yet will not suffer him to promise that he will
be a faithful subject to them ?
To the proposition that the nonjuring clergy should
be left to the mercy of the King, the AVhigs, with some
WILLIAM AND MARY. 107
justice, replied that no scheme could be devised more chap.
unjust to his Majesty. The matter, they said, is one .
of public concern, one in which every Englishman who i^«9.
is unwilling to be the slave of France and of Rome has
a deep interest. In such a case it would be unworthy
of the Estates of the Realm to shrink from the respon-
sibility of providing for the common safety, to try
to obtain for themselves the praise of tenderness and
liberality, and to leave to the Sovereign the odious
task of proscription. A law requiring aU public func-
tionaries, civil, military, ecclesiastical, without distinc-
tion of persons, to take the oaths is at least equal.
It excludes all suspicion of partiality, of personal ma-
lignity, of secret spying and talebearing. But, if an
arbitrary discretion is left to the Government, if one
nonjuring priest is suflfered to keep a lucrative benefice
while another is turned with his wife and children into
the street, every ejection will be considered as an act
of cruelty, and will be imputed as a crime to the sove-
reign and his ministers.*
Thus the Parliament had to decide, at the same
moment, what quantity of relief should be granted to
the consciences of dissenters, and what quantity of pres-
sure should be applied to the consciences of the clergy of
the Established Church. The King conceived a hope that
it might be in his power to eflfect a compromise agreeable
to aU parties. He flattered himself that the Tories
might be induced to make some concession to the dis-
senters, on condition that the Whigs would be lenient
to the Jacobites. He determined to try what his per-
sonal intervention would eflfect. It chanced that, a few
hours after the Lords had read the Comprehension Bill
a second time and the Bill touching the Oaths a first
time, he had occasion to go down to Parliament for
• As to this controTersy, see Journals of April 20. and 22.; Lords'
Burnet; ii. 7« 8, Q.; Grey*8 Debates^ Journals^ April 21.
April 19. and 22. 1689; CommoDa
C^-^ZrRl
tiMe^x0Wi^ ^f4^
108 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, the purpose of giving his assent to a law. From the
L_ throne he addressed both Houses, and expressed an
1689. earnest wish that they would consent to modify the
existing laws in such a manner that all Protestants
might be admitted to public employment.* It was
well understood that he was willing, if the le^slature
would comply with his request, to let clergymen who
were already beneficed continue to hold their benefices
without swearing allegiance to him. His conduct on
this occasion deserves undoubtedly the praise of dis-
interestedness. It is honourable to him that he at-
tempted to purchase liberty of conscience for his
subjects by giving up a safeguard of his own crown.
But it must be acknowledged that he showed less
wisdom than virtue. The only Englishman in his
Privy Council whom he had consulted, if Burnet was
correctly informed, was Kichard Hampden f; and
Richard Hampden, though a highly respectable man,
was so far from being able to answer for the Whig
party that he could not answer even for his own son
John, whose temper, naturally vindictive, had been ex-
asperated into ferocity by the stings of remorse and
shame. The King soon found that there was in the
hatred of tlie two great factions an energy which was
wanting to their love. The Whigs, though they were
almost unanimous in thinking that the Sacramental Test
ouglit to be abolished, were by no means unanimous in
thinking that moment well chosen for the abolition ;
and even those Whigs who were most desirous to see
the nonconformists relieved without delay from civil
disabilities were fully determined not to forego the
opportunity of humbling and pimishing the class to
whose instrumentality chiefly was to be ascribed that
tremendous reflux of public feeling which had followed
the dissolution of the Oxford Parliament. To put the
♦ Lords* Journals, March l6. I689. f Burnet^ ii. 7, 8,
WILLIAM AND MABT. 109
Janes, the Souths, the Sherlocks into such a situation
that they must either starve, or recant, publicly, and
with the Gospel at their lips, all the ostentatious pro-
fessions of many years, was a revenge too delicious to
be relinquished. The Tory, on the other hand, sin-
cerely respected and pitied those clergymen who felt
scruples about the oaths. But the Test was, in his
view, essential to the safety of the established religion,
and must not be surrendered for the purpose of saving
any man however eminent from any hardship how-
ever serious. It would be a sad day doubtless for the
Church when the episcopal bench, the chapter houses
of cathedrals, the halls of colleges, would miss some
men renowned for piety and learning. But it would be
a still sadder day for the Church when an Independent
should bear the white staff or a Baptist sit on the
woolsack. Each party tried to serve those for whom
it was interested : but neither party would consent
to grant favourable terms to its enemies. The result
was that the nonconformists remained excluded from
office in the State, and the nonjurors were ejected from
office in the Church.
In the House of Commons, no member thought it
expedient to propose the repeal of the Test Act. But
leave was given to bring in a biU repealing the Corpo-
ration Act, which had been passed by the Cavalier Par-
liament soon after the Restoration, and which contained
a clause requiring all municipal magistrates to receive
the sacrament according to the forms of the Church of
England. When this biU was about to be committed,
it was moved by the Tories that the committee should
be instructed to make no alteration in the law touching
the sacrament. Those Whigs who were zealous for the
Comprehension must have been placed by this motion in
an embarrassing position. To vote for the instruction
would have been inconsistent with their principles. To
vote against it would have been to break with Notting-
A^tfrC^jSUW
110 HISTORY OF ENGLAIO).
CHAP. ham. A middle course was found. The adjonmment
. ^^ of the debate was moved and carried by a hundred and
1689. sixteen votes to a hundred and fourteen ; and the sab-
ject was not revived.* In the House of Lords a moticRi
was made for the abolition of the sacramental teBt, but
was rejected by a large majority. Many of those who
thought the motion right in principle thought it ill
timed. A protest was entered ; but it was signed only
by a few peers of no great authority. It is a xemark-
able fact that two great chiefs of the Whig party, who
were in general very attentive to their parliamentaiy
duty, Devonshire and Shrewsbury, absented themselves
on this occasion.f
The debate on the Test in the Upper House was
speedily followed by a debate on the last clause of the
Comprehension Bill. By that clause it was provided
that thirty Bishops and priests should be commissioned
to revise the liturgy and canons, and to suggest amend-
ments. On this subject the Whig peers were almost all
of one mind. They mustered strong, and spoke warmly.
Why, they asked, were none but mcn^bers of the sa-
cerdotal order to be intrusted with this duty ? Were
the laity no part of the Church of England ? When
the Commission should have made its report, laymen
would have to decide on the recommendations contained
in that report. Not a line of the Book of Conmion
Prayer could be altered but by the authority of King,
Lords, and Commons. The King was a layman. Five
sixths of the Lords were laymen. All the members of
the House of Commons were laymen. Was it not ab-
surd to say that laymen were incompetent to examine
into a matter which it was acknowledged that laymen
* Burnet says (ii. 8.) that the the text. It is remarkable that
proposition to abolish the sacra- Gwyn and Rowe, who were tellers for
mental test was rejected by a great the majority, were two of the atrong-
majority in both Houses. But his est Whigs in the House,
memory deceived him ; for the only t Lords' Journals^ March 21.
division on the subject in the House 1689.
of Commons was that mentioned in
WILLIAM AND MABT. Ill
must in the last resort determine ? And could any-
thing be more opposite to the whole spirit of Protes-
tantism than the notion that a certain preternatural 1689.
power of judging in spiritual cases was vouchsafed to a
particular caste, and to that caste alone ; that such men
as Selden, as Hale, as Boyle, were less competent to give
an opinion on a collect or a creed than the youngest
and silliest chaplain who, in a remote manor house,
passed his life in drinking ale and playing at shovel-
board? What Gk)d had instituted no earthly power,
lay or clerical, could alter : and of things instituted by
human beings a layman was surely as competent as a
clergyman to judge. That the Anglican liturgy and
canons were of purely human institution the Parliament
acknowledged by referring them to a Commission for
revision and correction. How could it then be main-
tained that in such a Commission the laity, so vast a
majority of the population, the laity, whose edification
was the main end of all ecclesiastical regulations, and
whose innocent tastes ought to be carefully consulted in
the framing of the public services of religion, ought not
to have a single representative ? Precedent was d^ectly
opposed to this odious distinction. Eepeatedly since
the light of reformation had dawned on England Commis-
sioners had been empowered by law to revise the canons ;
and on every one of those occasions some of the Com-
missioners had been laymen. In the present case the
proposed arrangement was peculiarly objectionable.
For the object of issuing the conunission was the con-
ciliating of dissenters ; and it was therefore most de-
sirable that the Commissioners should be men in
whose fairness and moderation dissenters could confide.
Would thirty such men be easily found in the higher
ranks of the clerical profession ? The duty of the legis-
lature was to arbitrate between two contending parties,
the Nonconformist divines and the Anglican divines,
and it would be the grossest injustice to commit to one
of those parties the office of umpire.
112 HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
On these grounds the Whigs proposed an amendment
to the effect that laymen should be jomed with clergymen
1689. in the Commission. The contest was sharp. Bumet|
who had just taken his seat among the peers, and who
seems to have been bent on winning at ahnost any price
the good will of his brethren, argued with all his con-
stitutional warmth for the clause as it stood. The
numbers on the division proved to be exactly equaL
The consequence was that, according to the rules of
the House, the amendment was lost.*
At length the Comprehension Bill was sent down
to tlie Commons. There it would easily have been
carried by two to one, if it had been supported by all
the friends of religious liberty. But on this subject
the High Churchmen could count on the support of
a large body of Low Churclmien. Those members
who wished well to Nottingham's plan saw that they
were outnumbered, and, despairing of a victory, began
to meditate a retreat. Just at this time a suggestion
was thrown out which united all suffrages. The
ancient usage was that a Convocation should be sum-
moned together with a Parliament ; and it might well
be argued that, if ever the advice of a Convocation
could be needed, it must be when changes in the ritual
and discipline of the Church were under consideration.
But, in consequence of the irregular manner in which
the Estates of the Realm had been brought together
during the vacancy of the throne, there was no Convo-
cation. It was proposed that the House should advise
the King to take measures for supplying this defect,
and that the fate of the Comprehension Bill should not
be decided till the clergy had had an opportunity of
declaring their opinion through the ancient and legiti-
mate organ.
This proposition was received with general acclama-
tion. The Tories were well pleased to see such honour
• Lords' Journals^ April 5. 1689; Burnet, ii. 10.
WILLIAM AND MAKY, 118
done to the priesthood. Those Whigs who were against chap.
the Comprehension Bill were well pleased to see it laid L
aside, certainly for a year, probably for ever. Those 16®9-
Whigs who were for the Comprehension Bill were well
pleased to escape without a defeat. Many of them
indeed were not without hopes that mild and liberal
counsels might prevail in the ecclesiastical senate. An
address requesting William to summon the Convocation
was voted without a division : the concurrence of the
Lords was asked: the Lords concurred: the address
was carried up to the throne by both Houses : the King
promised that he would, at a convenient season, do
what his Parliament desired; and Nottingham's Bill
was not again mentioned.
Many writers, imperfectly acquainted with the history
of that age, have inferred from these proceedings that the
House of Commons was an assembly of High Church-
men : but nothing is more certain than that two thirds
of the members were either Low Churchmen or not
Churchmen at all. A very few days before this time an
occurrence had taken place, unimportant in itself, but
highly significant as an indication of the temper of the
majority. It had been suggested that the House ought,
in conformity with ancient usage, to adjourn over the
Easter holidays. The Puritans and Latitudinarians
objected : there was a sharp debate : the High Church-
men did not venture to divide ; and, to the great scan-
dal of many grave persons, the Speaker took the chair
at nine o'clock on Easter Monday ; and there was a long
and busy sitting.*
* Commons* Journals^ March 28. jours par I'Eglise Anglicane. I/es
April 1. 1689; Paris Gazette, Protestans conformistes furent de cet
April 23. Part of the passage in avis; et les Presbyt^riens empor-
the Paris Gazette is worth quoting, t^rent a la plurality des voix que les
*' II y eut, ce jour 1^ (March 28), une seances recommenceroient le Lundy,
grande contestation dans la Cham- seconde feste de Pasques." The Low
bre Basse^ sur la proposition qui fut Churchmen are frequently desig-
faite de reroettre les stances apres nated as Presbyterians by the French
les fetes de Pasques obienr^ ton- and Dutch writers of that age.
VOL. ni. I
114 mSTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. This however was by no means the strongest proof
^^ which the Commons gave that they were fitr indeed
16*89. from feeling extreme reverence or tenderness for the
Anglican hierarchy. The bill for settling the oaths had
just come down from the Lords framed in a maimer
favourable to the clergy. All lay functionaries were
required to swear fealty to the King and Queen on pain
of expulsion from ofiice. But it was provided thit
every divine who already held a benefice might continue
to hold it without swearing, unless the Government
should see reason to call on him specially for an as-
surance of his loyalty. Burnet had, partly, no doubt,
from the goodnature and generosity which belonged to
his character, and partly from a desire to conciliate
his brethren, supported this arrangement in the Upper
House with great energy. But in the Lower House
the feeling against the Jacobite priests was irresistibly
strong. On the very day on which that House voted, j
without a division, the address requesting the King to
summon the Convocation, a clause was proposed and
carried which required every person who held any eccle-
siastical or academical preferment to take the oaths by
the first of August 1689, on pain of suspension. Six
months, to be reckoned from that day, were allowed to
the nonjuror for reconsideration. If, on the first of
February 1690, he still continued obstinate, he was to
be finally deprived.
The biU, thus amended, was sent back to the Lords.
The Lords adhered to their original resolution. Con-
ference after conference was held. Compromise after
compromise was suggested. From the imperfect reports
which have come down to us it appears that eveiy
argument in favour of lenity was forcibly urged by
Burnet. But the Commons were firm : time pressed :
There were not twenty Presbyte- and Cutler's plain Dialogue aboat
rians^ properly so called, in the Whig and Tory^ 1 690.
House of Commons. See A Smitli
WILLIAM AKD MART. 115
the unsettled state of the law caused inconvenience in chap.
every department of the public service ; and the peers ^^'
very reluctantly gave way. They at the same time 1689-
added a clause empowering the iGng to bestow pecu-
niary allowances out of the forfeited benefices on a few
nonjuring clergymen. The number of clergymen thus
favoured was not to exceed twelve. The allowance
was not to exceed one third of the income forfeited.
Some zealous Whigs were unwilling to grant even this
indulgence : but the Commons were content with the
victory which they had won, and justly thought that
it woidd be ungracious to refiise so slight a concession.*
These debates were interrupted, during a short time, by The bin
the festivities and solemnities of the Coronation. When [j^ ^^^
the day fixed for that great ceremony drew near, the nation
House of Commons resolved itself into a committee for ^
the purpose of settling the form of words in which our
Sovereigns were thenceforward to enter into covenant
with the nation. All parties were agreed as to the
propriety of requiring the King to swear that, in tem-
poral matters, he would govern according to law, and
would execute justice in mercy. But about the terms of
the oath which related to the spiritual institutions of the
realm there was much debate. Should the chief magis-
trate promise simply to maintain the Protestant religion
established by law, or should he promise to maintain that
religion as it should be hereafter established by law ?
The majority preferred the former phrase. The latter
phrase was preferred by those Whigs who were for a
Comprehension. But it was universally admitted that
the two phrases really meant the same thing, and that
the oath, however it might be worded, would bind the
Sovereign in his executive capacity only. This was
indeed evident from the very nature of the transac-
tion. Any compact may be annulled by the free con-
* Accounts of what passed at the Journals of the Houses^ and deserve
Conferences will be found in the to be read.
I 2
116 HISTORY OF ENGLAKD.
CHAP, sent of the party who alone is entitled to claim the pcj-
^^' formance. It was never doubted by the most rigid
U)89. casuist that a debtor, who has bound himself under
tlie most awful imprecations to pay a debt, may law*
fully withhold payment if the creditor is willmg to
cancel the obligation. And it is equally clear that no
assurance, exacted from a King by the Estates of lu8
kingdom, can bind him to refuse compliance ^th wbat
may at a future time be the "wish of those Estates.
A bill was drawn up in conformity with the resolutioiu
of the Committee, and was rapidly passed through eveiy
stage. After the third reading, a foolish man stood up
to propose a rider, declaring that the oath was not meant
to restrain the Sovereign from consenting to any change
in the ceremonial of the Church, provided always that
episcopacy and a written form of prayer were retained.
The gross absurdityof this motion was exposed by several I
eminent members. Such a clause, they justly remarked,
would bind the King under pretence of setting him free.
The coronation oath, they said, was never intended to
trammel him in his legislative capacity. Leave that
oath as it is now drawn, and no prince can misunder-
stand it. No prince can seriously imagine that the two
Houses mean to exact from him a promise that he will
put a Veto on laws which they may hereafter think
necessary to the wellbeing of the country. Or if any
prince should so strangely misapprehend the nature of
the contract between him and his subjects, any divinef
any lawyer, to whose advice he may have recourse, will
set his mind at ease. But if this rider should pass,
it will be impossible to deny that the coronation oath is
meant to prevent the King from giving his assent to
bills which may be presented to him by the Lords and
Commons; and the most serious inconvenience mav
follow. These arguments were felt to be unanswerable,
and the proviso was rejected without a division.*
* Journals^ March 28. 1689; Grey's Debates. «
WILLIAM AND MABY.
117
Every person who has read these debates must be
fully convinced that the statesmen who framed the coro-
nation oath did not mean to bind the King in his legis- 1689.
lative capacity.* Unhappily, more than a hundred years
later, a scruple, which those statesmen thought too
absurd to be seriously entertained by any human being,
found its way into a mind, honest, indeed, and religious,
but narrow and obstinate by nature, and at once debili-
tated and excited by disease. Seldom, indeed, have the
ambition and perfidy of tyrants produced evils greater
than those which were brought on our country by that
fatal conscientiousness. A conjuncture singularly aus-
picious, a conjimcture at which wisdom and justice might
perhaps have reconciled races and sects long hostile, and
might have made the British islands one truly United
Kingdom, was sufifered to pass away. The opportunity,
once lost, returned no more. Two generations of public
men have since laboured with imperfect success to repair
the error which was then committed ; nor is it impro-
bable that some of the penalties of that error may con-
tinue to afflict a remote posterity.
The Bill by which the oath was settled passed the The coro-
Upper House without amendment. All the preparations ^*^*®^
were complete ; and, on the eleventh of April, the coro-
* J will quote some expressions
which have been preserved in the
concise reports of these debates.
Those expressions are quite decisive
as to the sense in which the oath
was understood by the legislators
who framed it Musgrave said^
'' There is no occasion for this pro-
viso. It cannot be imagined that
any bill from hence will ever de-
stroy the legislative power.*' Finch
said, " The words * established by
law/ hinder not the King from
passing any bill for the relief of
Dissenters. The proviso makes the
scruple, and gives the occasion for
it." Sawyer said, " This is the first
proviso of this nature that ever
was in any bilL It seems to strike
at the legislative power." Sir Ro-
bert Cotton said, "Though the
proviso looks well and healing, yet
it seems to imply a defect. Not able
to alter laws as occasion requires 1
This, instead of one scruple, raises
more, as if you were so bound up to
the ecclesiastical government that
you cannot make any new laws with*
out such a proviso." Sir Thomas
Lee said, "It will, I fear, creep in
that other laws cannot be made with-
out such a proviso : therefore I
would lay it aside."
X 3
118 HISTOBT OF ENOLAHD.
CHAP, nation took place. In some things it difftoed firao
^^' ordinary coronations. The representatives of the peqik
1689. attended the ceremony in a body, and were sumptuoiulf
feasted in the Exchequer Chamber. Mary, being not
merely Queen Consort, but also Queen Regnant, iru
inaugurated in all things like a King, was girt yntii the
sword, lifted up into the throne, and presented ynlh the
Bible, the spurs, and the orb. Of the temporal grandees
of the realm, and of their wives and daughters, the mus-
ter was great and splendid. None could be sarprised
that the Whig aristocracy should swdl the triumfdi
of Whig principles. But the Jacobites saw, with con-
cem, that many Lords who had voted for a Regency
bore a conspicuous part in the ceremonial. The Kingfs
crown was carried by Grafton, the Queen's by Somerset
The pointed sword, emblematical of temporal justice,
was borne by Pembroke. Ormond was Lord High Con-
stable for the day, and rode up the Hall on the right
hand of the hereditary champion, who thrice flung down
his glove on the pavement, and thrice defied to mortal
combat the false traitor who should gainsay the title <rf
William and Mary. Among the noble damsels who
supported the gorgeous train of the Queen was her
beautiful and gentle cousin, the Lady Henrietta Hyde,
whose father, Rochester, had to the last contended
against the resolution which declared the throne vacant.*
The show of Bishops, indeed, was scanty. The Primate
did not make his appearance ; and his place was supplied
by Compton. On one side of Compton, the paten was
carried by Lloyd, Bishop of Saint Asaph, eminent among
the seven confessors of the preceding year. On the other
side. Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, lately a member of the
High Commission, had charge of the chalice. Burnet^
the junior prelate, preached with all his wonted ability,
• Lady Henrietta, whom her soon after married to the JEarl of
uncle Clarendon calls "pretty little Dalkeith, eldest son of the unforta-
Lady Henrietu/' and "the best child nate Duke of Monmouth,
in the world " (Diary, Jan. 1 68 J ), was
WILLIAM AKD MABT. 119
and more than his wonted taste and judgment. His
grave and eloquent discourse was polluted neither by
adulation nor by malignity. He is said to have been 16S9.
greatly applauded ; and it may well be believed that the
animated peroration in which he implored heaven to
bless the royal pair with long life and mutual love^
with obedient subjects, wise counsellors, and faithful
allies, with gallant fleets and armies, with victory, with
peace, and finally with crowns more glorious and more
durable than those which then glittered on the altar
of the Abbey, drew forth the loudest hums of the
Commons.*
On the whole the ceremony went off well, and pro-
duced something like a revival, faint, indeed, and tran-
sient, of the enthusiasm of the preceding December.
The day was, in London and in many other places, a
day of general rejoicing. The churches were filled in
the morning: the afternoon was spent in sport and
carousing ; and at night bonfires were lighted, rockets
discharged, and windows lighted up. The Jacobites
however contrived to discover or to invent abundant
matter for scurrility and sarcasm. They complained
bitterly, that the way from the hall to the western door
of the Abbey had been lined by Dutch soldiers. Was
it seemly that an English king should enter into the most
solemn of engagements with the English nation behind
a triple hedge of foreign swords and bayonets ? Little
affrays, such as, at every great pageant, almost inevit-
ably take place between those who are eager to see the
show and those whose business it is to keep the com-
munications clear, were exaggerated with all the artifices
of rhetoric. One of the alien mercenaries had backed
his horse against an honest citizen who pressed forward
to catch a glimpse of the royal canopy. Another had
* The sermon desenres to be read. Luttreirs Diary ; and the despatch
Sec the London Gazette of April 14. of the Dutch Ambassadors to the
16*89; Evelyn's Diary; Narcissus States GeneraL
I 4
120
CHAP.
XL
16S9.
Promo-
tions.
iMMi
HISTORY OF ENQLASD.
rudely pushed back a woman with the but end of lui
musket. On such grounds as these the strangen wen
compared to those Lord Danes whose insolenoey in the
old time, had provoked the Anglosaxon population to
insurrection and massacre. But there was no more
fertile theme for censure than the coronation medal,
which really was absurd in design and mean in ezeoo-
tion. A chariot appeared conspicuous on the reyene;
and plain people were at a loss to understand what this
emblem had to do with William and Mary. The dis-
affected wits solved the difficulty by suggesting that the
artist meant to allude to that chariot which a Romaa
princess, lost to all filial affection, and blindly devoted
to the interests of an ambitious husband, drove over the
still warm remains of her father.*
Honours were, as usual, liberally bestowed at tlufl
festive season. Three garters which happened to be
at the disposal of the Crown were given to Devonshire,
Ormond, and Schomberg. Prince George was created
Duke of Cumberland. Several eminent men took new
* A specimen of the prose which
the Jacohites wrote on this subject
will be found in the Somers Tracts.
The Jacobite verses were generally
too loathsome to be quoteil. I select
some of the most decent lines from a
very rare lampoon :
** The eleventh of April has come aboat,
To Westminster went the rabble rout.
In order to crown a bundle of clouts,
** A dainty fine King indeed.
** Descended he is from the Orange tree (
But, if I can read his destiny,
He*ll once more descend from another
tree,
A dainty fine King indeed.
** He has gotten part of the shape of a man,
But more of a monkey, deny it who can ;
lie has the head of a goose, but the legs
of a crane,
A dainty fine King indeed."
A Frenchman, named Le Noble,
who had been banished from his own
country for his crimes, but, by the
connivance of the police, lurked in
Paris, and fnrncd a precarious live-
lihood as a bookseller't hmck, pub-
lished on this occasion two pasqni*
nades, now extremely icaroe, '* Le
Couronnement ' de GuiUemot et de
Guillemette, avec le Sermon du grind
Docteur Burnet," and ** Le Festio de
Guillemot." In wit, Utte and good
sense, Le Noble's writings are not
inferior to the English poem which I
have quoted. He tells ua that the
Archbishop of York and the Bishop
of London had a boxing match in
the Abbey ; that the champion rode
up the Hall on an ass, which turned
restive and kicked over the royal
table with all the plate ; and that
the banquet ended in a fight be-
tween the peers armed with atooh
and benches, and the cooks armed
with spits. This sort of pleasantry,
strange to say, found readers ; and
the writer's portrait was pompously
engraved with the motto '* Latrantea
ride : tc tua fama manet."
WILLIAM AND MABT. 121
appellations by which they must henceforth be de-
signated. Danby became Marquess of Caermarthen,
Churchill Earl of Marlborough, and Bentinck Earl of 1^89-
Portland. Mordaunt was made Earl of Monmouth,
not without some murmuring on the part of old Ex-
clusionists, who still remembered with fondness their
Protestant Duke, and who had hoped that his attainder
would be reversed, and that his title would be borne by
his descendants. It was remarked that the name of
Halifax did not appear in the list of promotions. None
could doubt that he might easily have obtained either
a blue riband or a ducal coronet; and, though he was
honourably distinguished from most of his contempora-
ries by his scorn of illicit gain, it was well known that
he desired honorary distinctions with a greediness of
which he was himself ashamed, and which was unworthy
of his fine understanding. The truth is that his ambi-
tion was at this time chilled by his fears. To those
whom he trusted he hinted his apprehensions that evil
times were at hand. The King's life was not worth
a year's purchase : the government was disjointed, the
clergy and the army disaffected, the parliament torn by
factions : civil war was already raging in one part of
the empire: foreign war was impending. At such a
moment a minister, whether Whig or Tory, might well
be uneasy; but neither Whig nor Tory had so much to
fear as the Trimmer, who might not improbably find
himself the common mark at which both parties would
take aim. For these reasons Halifax determined to
avoid all ostentation of power and influence, to disarm
envy by a studied show of moderation, and to attach
to himself by civilities and benefits persons whose gra-
titude might be useful in the event of a counterrevolu-
tion. The next three months, he said, would be the
time of trial. If the government got safe through the
summer it would probably stand.*
* Reretby's Memoirs.
■up
■■iA
122 HISTORY OF BKOLAHD.
CHAP. Meanwhile questions of external policy were cvciy
^^' day becoming more and more important. The woric it
i6S9. which William had toiled inde&tigably daring many
2?nV^Mt gl^^^y ^^d anxious years was at length accomplished.
France. The great coalition was formed. It was plain that t
desperate conflict was at hand. The oppressor of
Europe would have to defend himself against England
allied with Charles the Second King of Spain, with
the Emperor Leopold, and with the Germanic and
Batavian federations, and was likely, to have no ally
except the Sultan, who was waging war against the
House of Austria on the Danube.
The de- Lewis had, towards the close of the preceding year,
ofthe Pa- ^^^^ ^^ enemies at a disadvantage, and had struck tlie
latinate. first blow bcforc they were prepared to parry it. But
that blow, though heavy, was not aim^ at the port
where it might have been mortal. Had hostilities been
commenced on the Batavian frontier, William and his
army would probably have been detained on the con-
tinent, and James might have continued to goveni
England. Happily, Lewis, under an infettuation which
many pious Protestants confidently ascribed to the
righteous judgment of God, had neglected the point on
which the fate of the whole civilised world depended,
and had made a great display of power, promptitude,
and energy, in a quarter where the most splendid achieve-
ments could produce nothing more than an illumination
and a Te Deum. A French army under the command
of Marshal Duras had invaded the Palatinate and some
of the neighbouring principalities. But tliis expedition,
though it had been completely successful, and though
the skill and vigour "with which it had been conducted
had excited general admiration, could not perceptibly
affect the event of the tremendous struggle which was
approaching. France would soon be attacked on every
side. It would be impossible for Duras long to retain
possession of the provinces which he had surprised and
WILLIAM AND MABY. 123
overrun. An atrocious thought rose in the mind of
Louvois, who, in military affairs, had the chief sway at
Versailles. He was a man distinguished by zeal for 1689.
what he thought the public interests, by capacity, and
by knowledge of all that related to the administration
of war, but of a savage and obdurate nature. If the
cities of the Palatinate could not be retained, they might
be destroyed. K the soil of the Palatinate was not to
furnish supplies to the French, it might be so wasted
that it would at least fiimish no supplies to the Germans.
The ironhearted statesman submitted his plan, probably
with much management and with some disguise, to
Lewis ; and Lewis, in an evil hour for his fame, assented.
Duras received orders to turn one of the fairest regions
of Europe into a wilderness. Fifteen years earlier
Turenne had ravaged part of that fine country. But
the ravages committed by Turenne, though they have
left a deep stain on his glory, were mere sport in com-
parison with the horrors of this second devastation.
The French commander announced to near half a million
of human beings that he granted them three days of
grace, and that, within that time, they must shift for
themselves. Soon the roads and fields, which then lay
deep in snow, were blackened by innumerable multi-
tudes of men, women, and children flying from their
homes. Many died of cold and hunger: but enough
survived to fill the streets of all the cities of Europe
with lean and squalid beggars, who had once been
thriving farmers and shopkeepers. Meanwhile the
work of destruction began. The flames went up from
every marketplace, every hamlet, every parish church,
every country seat, within the devoted provinces. The
fields where the com had been sown were ploughed up.
The orchards were hewn down. No promise of a
harvest was left on the fertile plains near what had
once been Frankenthal. Not a vine, not an almond
tree, was to be seen on the slopes of the sunny hills
£3 t£^'.Ar.*^. I Hill— irfijMiteiMBB^iai^
124 UISTOBT OV ENGLAND.
CHAP, round what had once been Heidelberg. *No xespect
^^ was shown to palaces, to temples, to monaBteriea, to
1689. infirmaries, to beautiful works of art, to monuments of
the illustrious dead. The ferfamed castle of the Elector
Palatine was turned into a heap of ruins. The adjoining
hospital was sacked. The provisions, the medicines, the
pallets on which the sick lay were destroyed. The very
stones of which Manheim had been built were flung into i
the Rhine. The magnificent Cathedral of Spires perished,
and with it the marble sepulchres of eight Csesars. The
coffins were broken open. The ashes were scattered to
the winds.* Treves, with its fair bridge, its Roman
amphitheatre, its venerable churches, convents, and
colleges, was doomed to the same fette. But, before
this last crime had been perpetrated, Lewis was recalled
to a better mind by the execrations of all the neighbour
ing nations, by the silence and confiision of his flatterers,
and by the expostulations of his wife. He had been
more than two years secretly married to Frances de
Maintenon, the governess of his natural children. It
would be hard to name any woman who, with so little
romance in her temper, has had so much in her life.
Her early years had been passed in poverty and
obscurity. Her first husband had supported himself
by writing burlesque farces and poems. When she
attracted the notice of her sovereign, she could no longer
boast of youth or beauty : but she possessed in an extra-
ordinary degree those more lasting charms, which men
of sense, whose passions age has tamed, and whose life is
a life of business and care, prize most highly in a female
companion. Her character was such as has been well
* For the history of the (leTastation to quote. One broadside, entitled
of the Palatinate^ see the Memoirs of *' A true Account of the barbaroni
La Fare, Dangeau, Madame de la Cruelties committed by the French
Fayette, Villars, and Saint Simon, and in the Palatinate in January and
the Monthly Mercuries for March February last/' is perhaps the most
and April I689. The pamphlets remarkable,
and broadsides arc too numerous
WILLIAM AND MARY. 125
compared to that soft green on which the eye, wearied
by warm tints and glaring lights, reposes with pleasure.
A just understanding; an inexhaustible yet never re- ^^^P-
dundant flow of rational, gentle, and sprightly conversa-
tion; a temper of which the serenity was never for a
moment rufBed ; a tact which surpassed the tact of her
sex as much as the tact of her sex surpasses the tact
of ours ; such were the qualities which made the widow
of a buffoon first the confidential friend, and then the
spouse, of the proudest and most powerfiil of European
kings. It was said that Lewis had been with difficulty
prevented by the arguments and vehement entreaties
of Louvois from declaring her Queen of France. It is
certain that she regarded Louvois as her enemy. Her
hatred of him, cooperating perhaps with better feelings,
induced her to plead the cause of the unhappy people
of the Rhine. She appealed to those sentiments of
compassion which, though weakened by many corrupt-
ing influences, were not altogether extinct in her hus-
band's mind, and to those sentiments of religion which
had too often impelled him to cruelty, but which, on
the present occasion, were on the side of humanity. He
relented : and Treves was spared.* In truth he could
hardly fail to perceive that he had committed a great
error. The devastation of the Palatinate, while it had
not in any sensible degree lessened the power of his
enemies, had inflamed their animosity, and had fur-
nished them with inexhaustible matter for invective.
The cry of vengeance rose on every side. Whatever
scruple either branch of the House of Austria might
have felt about coalescing with Protestants was com-
pletely removed. Lewis accused the Emperor and the
Catholic King of having betrayed the cause of the
Church ; of having allied themselves with an usurper
who was the avowed champion of the great schism;
of having been accessary to the foul wrong done to
* Memoirs of Saint Simon*
I^IA.
m" iiiiii fiMnytoMiilitii— i^iaiil
126 HISTOBT OF EKGLAKD.
CHAP, a lawful sovereign who was guilty of no crime bat
^^ zeal for the true religion. James sent to Vienna and
1689. Madrid piteous letters, in which he recounted his mis-
fortunes, and implored the assistance of his brother
kings, his brothers also in the faith, against the unnatural
children and the rebellious subjects who had driven him
into exile. But there was little difficulty in firanuDg
a plausible answer both to the reproaches of Lewis and
to the supplications of James. Leopold and Charles
declared that they had not, even for purposes of just
selfdefence, leagued themselves with heretics, till tilidr
enemy had, for purposes of unjust aggression, leagued
himself with Mahometans. Nor was this the worst
The French King, not content with assisting the Moslem
against the Christians, was himself treating Christians
with a barbarity which would have shocked the very
Moslem. His infidel allies, to do them justice, had not
perpetrated on the Danube such outrages against the
edifices and the members of the Holy Catholic Church
as he who called himself the eldest son of that Church
was perpetrating on the Rhine. On these grounds, the
princes to whom James had appealed replied by ap-
pealing, with many professions of good will and com-
passion, to himself. He was surely too just to blame
them for thinking that it was their first duty to defend
their own people against such outrages as had tamed
the Palatinate into a desert, or for calling in the aid of
Protestants against an enemy who had not scrupled to
call in the aid of Turks.*
* I will quote a few lines datam fidcm impediti Bumuiy ipd-
from Leopold's letter to James : met Serenitati vestne judicandum
'* Nunc auteni quo loco res nostrse relinquimus. . . . Galli non tantiun
sint, ut Serenitati vestrs auxilium in nostrum et totius Christiana
prsstari possit a nobis, qui non perniciemfcedifraga anna cum joratii
Turcico tantum bello implicit!, sed Sanctis Crucis hostibus sociaie fas
insnper etiam crudelissimo et ini- sibi ducunt; sed etiam in imperio^
quissimo a Gallis, rerum suarum, ut perfidiam perfidia cumulando, urbet
I)Utabant, in Anglia securis, contra deditionc occupatas contra datam
WILLIAM AND SiABT. 127
During the winter and the earlier part of the spring,
the powers hostile to France were gatheriing their
strength for a great effort, and were in constant com- 1689.
munication with one another. As the season for mili- Y" ^®"
tary operations approached, the solemn appeals of against
injured nations to the God of battles came forth in ^""^•
rapid succession. The manifesto of the Germanic body-
appeared in February; that of the States General in
March; that of the House of Brandenburg in April;
and that of Spain in May.*
Here, as soon as the ceremony of the coronation was
over, the House of Commons determined to take into
consideration the late proceedings of the French king, f
In the debate, that hatred of the powerful, unscrupulous
and imperious Lewis, which had, during twenty years
of vassalage, festered in the hearts of Englishmen, broke
violently forth. He was called the most Christian
Turk, the most Christian ravager of Christendom, the
most Christian barbarian who had perpetrated on Chris-
tians outrages of which his infidel allies would have
been ashamed. J A committee, consisting chiefly of ardent
Whigs, was appointed to prepare an address. John
Hampden, the most ardent Whig among them, was put
into the chair; and he produced a composition too long,
too rhetorical, and too vituperative to suit the lips of the
Speaker or the ears of the King. Invectives against Lewis
might perhaps, in the temper in which the House then
was, have passed without censure, if they had not been
fidem immensis tributis exhaurire^ dem raperantia immanitatis et ssvi-
exhaustas diripere^ direptas fanditus tie exempla edere pro ludo habent."
exscindere aut flammiB delere, Pala- * See the London Gazettes of Feb.
tia Principum ab omni antiquitate 25. March 1 1. April 22. May 2. and
inter Bsvissima bellorum incendia the Monthly Mercuries. Some of
intacta serrata exurere^ teropla spo- the Declarations will be found in
liare^ dedititios in servitutem more Dumont's Corps Universel Diploma-
apud barbaros usitato abducere, de- tique.
nique passim, imprimis yero etiam in t Commons* Journals, April 15.
Catholicorum ditionibus, alia hor- 16. 1689-
renda, et ipsam Turcorum tyranni- } Oldmixon.
■ mill.
128 mSTOBT OF ENQLASD.
CHAP, accompanied by severe reflections on the ohaiacter and
^^ administration of Charles the Second, whose memoiy,!!
1 ^89. spite of all his faults, was affectionately cherished by the
Tories. There were some very intelligible aUuaiomto
Charles's dealings with the Court of YerBaillea, and to
the foreign woman whom that Court had sent to lie lib
a snake in his bosom. The House was with good ressn
dissatisfied. The address was recommitted, and, having
been made more concise, and less dedaxnatory and
acrimonious, was approved and presented** William'i
attention was called to the wrongs which France hid
done to him and to his kingdom ; and he was assond
tliat^ whenever he should resort to arms for fhe re-
dress of those wrongs, he should be heartily sapported
by his people. He thanked the Commons -warmly.
Ambition, he said, should never induce him to dnw
the sword : but he had no choice : France had aliea^
attacked England; and it was necessary to exerdae
the right of selfdefence. A few days later war was
proclaimed.!
Of the grounds of quarrel alleged by the Conmuxis
in their address, and by the King in his manifosto, the
most serious was the interference of Lewis in the afiain
of Ireland. In that country great events had, during
several months, followed one another in rapid succesaioii.
Of those events it is now time to relate the history, a
history dark with crime and sorrow, yet ftdl of intmat
and instruction.
* Commons' Joamals, April 19* 7th of May, bot was not pabluU
24. 26. 1689* in the London Gaiette tOl lk
t The Declaration is dated on the 1 Sth.
WILLIAM AND MARY, 129
CHAPTER Xn.
William had assumed, together with the title of King chap.
of England, the title of King of Ireland. For all our ^^^'
jurists then regarded Ireland as a mere colony, more 1689.
important indeed than Massachusetts, Virginia, or Ja- state of
maica, but, like Massachusetts, Virginia, and Jamaica, J^^J^g^^f
dependent on the mother country, and bound to pay the Revo-
allegiance to the Sovereign whom the mother country
had called to the throne.*
In fact, however, the Revolution found Ireland Theciyii
emancipated from the dominion of the English colony, [hrhlnds
As early as the year 1686, James had determined to ^^^^
make that island a place of arms which might overawe Catholics.
Great Britain, and a place of refuge where, if any dis-
aster happened in Great Britain, the members of his
Church might find refuge. With this view he had
exerted aU his power for the purpose of inverting the
relation between the conquerors and the aboriginal popu-
lation. The execution of his design he had intrusted,
in spite of the remonstrances of his English counsellors,
to the Lord Deputy Tyrconnel. In the autumn of
1688, the process was complete. The highest offices
in the state, in the army, and in the Courts of Justice,
were, with scarcely an exception, filled by Papists.
A pettifogger named Alexander Fitton, who had been
detected in forgery, who had been fined for mis-
conduct by the House of Lords at Westminster, who
had been many years in prison, and who was equally
deficient in legal knowledge and in the natural good
* The general opinion of the " Aphorisms relating to the King-
English on this subject is clearly dom of Ireland^" which appeared
expressed in a little tract entitled during the vacancy of the throne.
VOL. lU. K
130 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, sense and acutencss by which the want of legal know-
^ ledge has sometimes been supplied, was Lord Chan-
1689. cellor. His single merit was that he had apostatized
from the Protestant religion ; and this merit was though
sufficient to wash out even the stain of his Saxon ex-
traction. He soon proved himself worthy of the confi-
dence of his patrons. On the bench of justice he dfr
clarcd that there was not one heretic in forty thousaiid
who was not a villain. He often, after hearing a cause
in which the interests of his Church were conceriKd
postponed his decision, for the purpose, as he avowed
of consulting his spiritual director, a Spanish priest.
well read doubtless in Escobar.* Thomas Nugent, 1
Roman Catholic who had never distinguished himself
at the bar except by his brogue and his blunders^ was
Chief Justice of the King's Bench.f Stephen Eice, s
Roman Catholic, whose abilities and learning were not
disputed even by the enemies of his nation and religion,
but whose known hostility to the Act of Settlement ex-
cited the most painful apprehensions in the minds of all
who held property under that Act, was Chief Baron of
the Exchequer. J Richard Nagle, an acute and well
read laAvyer, who had been educated in a Jesuit college,
and whose prejudices were such as might have been ex-
pected from his education, was Attorney 6eneral.§
Keating, a highly respectable Protestant, was still
Chief Justice of the Common Pleas: but two Roman
Catholic Judges sate with him. It ought to be added
that one of those judges, Daly, was a man of sense,
moderation and integrity. The matters however
which came before the Court of Common Pleas were
* King's State of the Protestants § King, ii. 6,, iii. 3. CUrandon,
of Ireland, ii. 6. and iii. 3, in a letter to Ormond (Sep. S8.
f King, iii. 3. ('larendon^ in a l686), speaks highly of Nagk'i
letter to Rochester (June 1. iGSG), knowledge and ability, but in the
calls Nugent *' a very troublesome, Diary (Jan. 31. 1 68^) calls him "i
impertinent creature." covetous, ambitious mau."
} King, iii. 3.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 131
not of great moment. Even the King's Bench was chap.
at this time almost deserted. The Court of Exche- ^^^'
quer overflowed -with business ; for it was the only i689.
court at Dublin from which no writ of error lay to
England, and consequently the only court in which the
English could be oppressed and pillaged without hope
of redress. Rice, it was said, had declared that they
should have from him exactly what the law, construed
with the utmost strictness, gave them, and nothing
more. What, in his opinion, the law, strictly construed,
gave them, they could easily infer from a saying which,
before he became a judge, was often in his mouth. " I
will drive," he used to say, " a coach and six through
the Act of Settlement." He now carried his threat
daily into execution. The cry of all Protestants was
that it mattered not what evidence they produced before
him ; that, when their titles were to be set aside, the
rankest forgeries, the most infamous witnesses, were
sure to have his countenance. To his court his coun-
trymen came in multitudes with writs of ejectment and
writs of trespass. In his court the government attacked
at once the charters of all the cities and boroughs in
Ireland ; and he easily found pretexts for pronouncing
all those charters forfeited. The municipal corporations,
about a hundred in number, had been instituted to be
the strongholds of the reformed religion and of the Eng-
lish interest, and had consequently been regarded by
the Irish Roman Catholics with an aversion which can-
not be thought unnatural or unreasonable. Had those
bodies been remodelled in a judicious and impartial
manner, the irregularity of the proceedings by which so
desirable a result had been attained might have been
pardoned. But it soon appeared that one exclusive
system had been swept away only to make room for
another. The boroughs were subjected to the absolute
authority of the Crown. Towns in which almost every
householder was an English Protestant were placed
R 2
132 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, under the government of Irish Roman Catholics. Many
^'^ of the new Aldermen had never even seen the places
1689. over which they were appointed to bear rule. At the
same time the Sheriffs, to whom belonged the execution
of writs and the nomination of juries, were selected in
almost every instance from the caste which had till very
recently been excluded from all public trust. It wm
affirmed that some of these important functionaries had
been burned in the hand for theft. Others had been
servants to Protestants ; and the Protestants added, with
bitter scorn, that it was fortunate for the country when
this was the case ; for that a menial who had cleaned
the plate and rubbed do^vn the horse of an English
gentleman might pass for a civilised being, when com-
pared with many of the native aristocracy whose Uves
had been spent in coshering or marauding. To such
Sheriffs no colonist, even if he had been so strangely
fortunate as to obtain a judgment, dared to intrust an
execution.*
The mill- Thus the civil power had, in the space of a few
in^he^'^*^'^ months, been transferred from the Saxon to the Celtic
hands of population. The transfer of the military power had
Catholics!" bccn uot less complete. The anny, which, under the
command of Ormond, had been the chief safeguard of
the English ascendency, had ceased to exist. Whole
regiments had been dissolved and reconstructed. Six
thousand Protestant veterans, deprived of their hread,
were brooding in retirement over their wrongs, or had
crossed the sea and joined the standard of William.
Their place was supplied by men who had long suffered
oppression, and who, finding themselves suddenly trans-
formed from slaves into masters, were impatient to pay
back, with accumulated usurj'-, the heavy debt of inju-
* King, ii. 5. 1., iii. 3. 5.; A Religion and Interests, by a Cler-
Short View of the Methods made gyman lately escaped from thence,
use of in Ireland for the Subversion licensed Oct. 17. l689.
and Destruction of the Protestant
WILLIAM AND MART. 133
rics and insults. The new soldiers, it was said, never chap.
• • • XII
passed an Englishman without cursing him and calling
him by some foul name. They were the terror of every 1^89.
Protestant innkeeper ; for, from the moment when they
came under his roof, they ate and drank every thing :
they paid for nothing ; and by their rude swaggering
they scared more respectable guests from his door.*
Such was the state of Ireland when the Prince of Mntnai
Orange landed at Torbay. From that time every tw™*?the
packet which arrived at Dublin brought tidings, such as f^'^/^^'^
could not but increase the mutual fear and loathing of inshry.
the hostile races. The colonist, who, after long enjoy-
ing and abusing power, had now tasted for a moment
the bitterness of servitude, the native, who, having
drunk to the dregs all the bitterness of servitude, had at
length for a moment enjoyed and abused power, were
alike sensible that a great crisis, a crisis like that of
1641, was at hand. The majority impatiently expected
Phelim O'Neil to revive in Tyrconnel. The minority
saw in William a second Oliver.
On which side the first blow was struck was a ques-
tion which Williamites and Jacobites afterwards debated
>vith much asperity. But no question could be more
idle. History must do to both parties the justice which
neither has ever done to the other, and must admit that
both had fair pleas and cruel provocations. Both had
been placed, by a fate for which neither was answerable,
in such a situation that, human nature being what it is,
* King, ill. 2. I cannot find in Ireland, especially before this
that Charles Leslie, who was zealous revolution began, and which most
on the other side, has, in his Answer of any thing brought it on. No ;
to King, contradicted any of these I am far from it I am sensible
facts. Indeed Leslie gives up Tyr- that their carriage in many par-
connel's administration. ^' I desire ticulars gave greater occasion to
to obviate one objection which I King James's enemies than all the
know will be made, as if I were other maladministrations which were
about wholly to vindicate all that charged upon his government.*'
the Lord Tyrconnel and other of Leslie's Answer to King, l692«
King James's ministers have done
K 3
134
HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
CHAP, they could not but regard each other with enmity.
During three years the government which might haTe
1G89. reconciled them had systematically employed its whole
power for the purpose of inflaming their enmity to mad-
ness. It was now impossible to establish in Ireland a
just and beneficent government, a government whidi
should know no distinction of race or of sect, a govern-
ment which, while strictly respecting the rights gua-
ranteed by law to the new landowners, should alleviate
by a judicious liberality the misfortunes of the ancieDt
gentry. Such a government James might have esta-
blished in the day of his power. But the opportunity
had passed away : compromise had become impossible:
the two infuriated castes were alike convinced that it
was necessary to oppress or to be oppressed, and that
there could be no safety but in victory, vengeance, and
dominion. They agreed only in spuming out of the
way every mediator who sought to reconcile them.
Panic During some weeks there were outrages, insults, evil
Enffufhr^^ reports, violent panics, the natural preludes of the te^
rible conflict which was at hand. A rumour spread over
the whole island that, on the ninth of December, there
would be a general massacre of the Englishry. Tyr-
connel sent for the chief Protestants of Dublin to the
Castle, and, Avith his usual energy of diction, invoked
on himself all the vengeance of heaven if the report
was not a cursed, a blasted, a confounded lie. It was
said that, in his rage at finding his oaths inefiectoal,
he pulled off his hat and wig, and flung them into
the fire.* But lying Dick Talbot was so well known
that his imprecations and gesticulations only strength-
ened the apprehension which they were meant to allay
Ever since the recall of Clarendon there had been a
large emigration of timid and quiet people from the
* A True and Impartial Account Gentleman who was an Eyewitncs;
of the most material Passap^es in licensed July 22, iGSQ,
Ireland since December IG88, by a
WILLIAM AND MARY. 135
Irish ports to England. That emigration now went on chap.
faster than ever. It was not easy to obtain a passage ^^^'
on board of a well built or commodious vessel. But 1689.
many persons, made bold by the excess of fear, and
choosing rather to trust the winds and waves than the
exasperated Irishry, ventured to encounter all the dan-
gers of Saint George's Channel and of the Welsh coast
in open boats and in the depth of winter. The English
who remained began, in almost every county, to draw
close together. Every large country house became a
fortress. Every visitor who arrived after nightfall
was challenged from a loophole or from a barricaded
window ; and, if he attempted to enter without pass
words and explanations, a blunderbuss was presented to
him. On the dreaded night of the ninth of December,
there was scarcely one Protestant mansion from the
Giant's Causeway to Bantry Bay in which armed men
were not watching and lights burning from the early
sunset to the late sunrise.*
A minute account of what passed in one district at History of
this time has come down to us, and well illustrates the KOTmaw!*^
general state of the kingdom. The south-western part
of Kerry is now well known as the most beautiful tract
in the British isles. The mountains, the glens, the
capes stretching far into the Atlantic, the crags on
which the eagles buUd, the rivulets brawling down
rocky passes, the lakes overhung by groves in which
the wQd deer find covert, attract every summer crowds
of wanderers sated with the business and the pleasures
of great cities. The beauties of that country are indeed
too often hidden in the mist and rain which the west
wind brings up from a boundless ocean. But, on the
rare days when the sun shines out in all his glor}^, the
landscape has a freshness and a warmth of colouring
seldom found in our latitude. The myrtle loves the
soU. The arbutus thrives better than even on the
* True and Impartial Account, I689 ; Leslie's Answer to King, I692.
K 4
136 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, sunny shore of Calabria.* The turf is of livelier hoe
^ ' than elsewhere : the hills glow with a richer purple : tbe
1689. varnish of the holly and ivy is more glossy ; and berries
of a brighter red peep through foliage of a brighter
green. But during the greater part of the seventeenth
century, this paradise was as little known to the civi-
lised world as Spitzbergen or Greenland. If ever it
was mentioned, it was mentioned as a horrible desert, a
chaos of bogs, thickets, and precipices, where the she
wolf still littered, and where some half naked savages,
who could not speak a word of English, made themselves
burrows in the mud, and lived on roots and sour milLf
At length, in the year 1670, the benevolent and
enlightened Sir William Petty determined to form
an English settlement in this wild district. He pos-
sessed a large domain there, which has descended to
a posterity worthy of such an ancestor. On the im-
provement of that domain he expended, it ivas scud,
not less than ten thousand pounds. The little town
which he founded, named from the bay of Kenmare,
stood at the head of that bay, under a mountain
ridge, on the summit of which travellers no^w stop to
gaze upon the loveliest of the three lakes of Killamey.
Scarcely any village, built by an enterprising band of
• There have been iu the neigh- County of Kerry, 1756. I do not
bourhood of Killamey specimens of know that J have ever met with t
the arbutus thirty feet high and four better book of the kind and of the
feet and a half round. See the size. In a poem published as late
Philosophical Transactions, 22?. as 1719» ^^^ entitled Macdermot,
t In a very full account of the or the Irish Fortune Hunter, in nx
British isles published at Nuremberg cantos, wolfhunting and wolftpeir^
in 10*90, Kerry is described as '* an ing are represented as common
vieleu Orten unwegsam und voller sports in Munster. In 'William*s
Walder und Geburgc." Wolves reign Ireland was sometimes called
still infested Ireland. *' Kein by the nickname of Wolfland. Thus
Kchfidlich Thier ist da, ausserhalb in a poem on the battle of La Hogne,
Wolff und Fiichse." So late as called Advice to a Painter^ the ter-
thc year 17IO money was levied ror of the Irish army is thus de«
on prese'itinents of the Grand Jury scribed :
<»f Kerry for the destruction of « a chillinp damp
wolves in that county. See Smith's Ami Wolflaudhowl runs thro* the rittng
Ancient and Modern State of the <^^amp."
WILLIAM AND MARY. • 137
New Englanders, far from the dwellings of their coun- chap.
XIL
i trymen, in the midst of the hunting grounds of ^he Red
i Indians, was more completely out of the pale of civilis- 1689.
t ation than Kenmare. Between Petty's settlement and
I the nearest English habitation the journey by land was
\ of two days through a wild and dangerous country.
I Yet the place prospered. Forty two houses were erected,
r The population amounted to a hundred and eighty.
! The land round the town was well cultivated. The
I cattle were numerous. Two small barks were employed
! in fishing and trading along the coast. The supply of
herrings, pilchards, mackerel, and salmon was plentiful,
and would have been still more plentiful, had not the
beach been, in the finest part of the year, covered by
multitudes of seals, which preyed on the fish of the bay.
Yet the seal was not an imwelcome visitor: his fur
was valuable ; and his oil supplied light through the long
nights of winter. An attempt was made with great
success to set up iron works. It was not yet the prac-
tice to employ coal for the purpose of smelting ; and
the manufacturers of Kent and Sussex had much diffi-
culty in procuring timber at a reasonable price. The
neighbourhood of Kenmare was then richly wooded ;
and Petty found it a gainful speculation to send ore
thither. The lovers of the picturesque still regret the
woods of oak and arbutus which were cut down to feed
his furnaces. Another scheme had occurred to his
active and intelligent mind. Some of the neighbouring
islands abounded with variegated marble, red and
white, purple and green. Petty well knew at what cost
the ancient Romans had decorated their baths and tem-
ples with manycoloured columns hewn from Laconian
and African quarries ; and he seems to have indulged the
hope that the rocks of his wild domain in Kerry might
furnish embellishments to the mansions of Saint James's
Square, and to the choir of Saint PauVs Cathedral.*
* Smith's Ancient and Modern State of Kerry.
138 HISTORY OF EKQLAND.
CHAP. From the first, the settlers had found that they miisi
^"' be prepared to exercise the right of selfdefenoe to an
1689. extent which Avould have been unnecessary and nnjus-
tifiable in a well governed country. The lavir wag dto-
gether without force in the highhinds which Ke od
the south of the vale of Tralee. No officer of justice
willingly ventured into those parts. One pursoivant
who in 1680 attempted to execute a warrant there wm
murdered. The people of Kenmare seem however to
have been sufficiently secured by their union, their in-
telligence and their spirit, till the close of the year
1G88. Then at length the effects of the policy of Tp
connel began to be felt even in that remote comer of
Ireland. In the eyes of the peasantry of Munster the
colonists were aliens and heretics. The buildings, the
boats, the machines, the granaries, the dairies, the fur-
naces, were doubtless contemplated by the native race
with that mingled envy and contempt with ivhich the
ignorant naturally regard the triumphs of knowledge.
Nor is it at all improbable that the emigrants had been
guilty of those faults from which civilised men who
settle among an uncivilised people are rarely free. The
power derived from superior intelligence had, we may
easily believe, been sometimes displayed with insolence,
and sometimes exerted with injustice. Now therefore,
when the news spread from altar to altar, and from
cabin to cabin, that the strangers were to be driven out
and that their houses and lands were to be given as a
booty to the children of the soil, a predatory war com-
menced. Plunderers, thirty, forty, seventy in a troop,
prowled round the town, some with firearms, some with
pikes. The barns were robbed. The horses were stolen.
In one foray a hundred and forty cattle were swept l
away and driven off through the ravines of Glengariff.
In one night six dwellings were broken open and pil-
laged. At last the colonists, driven to extremity, re-
solved to die like men rather than be murdered in their
WILLIAM ASB MARY. 139
beds. The house built by Petty for his agent was the chap.
largest in the place. It stood on a rocky peninsula ^^
round which the waves of the bay broke. Here the 1^89.
whole population assembled, seventy five fighting men,
with about a hundred women and children. They had
among them sixty firelocks, and as many pikes and
swords. Round the agent's house they threw up with
great speed a wall of turf fourteen feet in height and
twelve in thickness. The space enclosed was about half
an acre. Within this rampart all the arms, the ammu-
nition and the provisions of the settlement were col-
lected, and several huts of thin plank were built. When
these preparations were completed, the men of Kenmare
began to make vigorous reprisals on their Irish neigh-
bours, seized robbers, recovered stolen property, and
continued during some weeks to act in all things as an
independent commonwealth. The government was car-
ried on by elective officers, to whom every member of
the society swore fidelity on the Holy Gospels.*
AVTiile the people of the small town of Kenmare were
thus bestirring themselves, similar preparations for
defence were made by larger communities on a larger
scale. Great numbers of gentlemen and yeomen quit-
ted the open country, and repaired to those towns which
had been founded and incorporated for the purpose of
bridling the native population, and which, though re-
cently placed under the government of Roman Catholic
magistrates, were still inhabited chiefly by Protestants.
A considerable body of armed colonists mustered at
Sligo, another at Charleville, a third at Mallow, a fourth
still more formidable at Bandon.f But the principal
strongholds of the Englishry during this evil time were
Enniskillen and Londonderry.
* Exact Relation of the Pcfrae- Ancient and Modern State of Kerry,
cutions, Robberies, and Losses, sus- 1756.
tained by the Protestants of Kill- f Ireland's Lamentation, licensed
mare in Ireland, 1689; Smith's May 18. 1 68*).
140 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Enniskillen, though the capital of the county of Fer-
^"' managh, was then merely a village. It was built on
1689. an island surrounded by the river which joins the two
^°^ beautiful sheets of water kno^vn by the common name
of Lough Erne. The stream and both the lakes were
overhung on every side by natural forests. Ennis-
killen consisted of about eighty dwellings clustering
round an ancient castle. The inhabitants were, with
scarcely an exception, Protestants, and boasted that
their town had been true to the Protestant cause
through the terrible rebellion which broke out in 1641.
Early in December they received from Dublin an inti-
mation that two companies of Popish infantry w^ere to
be immediately quartered on them. The alarm of the
little community was great, and the greater because it
was known that a preaching friar had been exerting
himself to inflame the Irish population of the neigh-
bourhood against the heretics. A daring resolution
was taken. Come what might, the troops should not
be admitted. Yet the means of defence were slender.
Not ten pounds of powder, not twenty firelocks fit for
use, could be collected within the walls. Messengers were
sent with pressing letters to summon the Protestant
gentrj'^ of the vicinage to the rescue ; and the summons
was gallantly obeyed. In a few hours two hundred
foot and a hundred and fifty horse had assembled.
Tyrconnel's soldiers were already at hand. They
brought with them a considerable supply of arms to
be distributed among the peasantry. The peasantry
greeted the royal standard with delight, and accom-
panied the march in great numbers. The townsmen
and their allies, instead of waiting to be attacked, came
boldly forth to encounter the intruders. The officers
of James had expected no resistance. They were con-
founded when they saw confronting them a column of
foot, flanked by a large body of mounted gentlemen and
yeomen. The crowd of camp followers ran away in
WILLIAM AND MARY. 141
terror. The soldiers made a retreat so precipitate that chap,
it might be called a flight, and scarcely halted till they ^^
were thirty miles off at Cavan.* l6**9.
The Protestants, elated by this easy victory, proceeded
to make arrangements for the government and defence
of Enniskillen and of the surrounding country. Gus-
tavus Hamilton, a gentleman who had served in the
army, but who had recently been deprived of his
commission by Tyrconnel, and had since been living
on an estate in Fermanagh, was appointed Governor,
and took up his residence in the castle. Trusty men
were enlisted and armed with great expedition. As
there was a scarcity of swords and pikes, smiths were
employed to make weapons by fastening scythes on
poles. All the country houses round Lough Erne were
turned into garrisons. No Papist was suffered to be
at large in the town ; and the friar who was accused
of exerting his eloquence against the Englishry was
throAvn into prison.f
The other great fastness of Protestantism was a London-
place of more importance. Eighty years before, during ^"^*
the troubles caused by the last struggle of the houses
of O'Neil and O'Donnel against the authority of James
the First, the ancient city of Deny had been surprised
by one of the native chiefs : the inhabitants had been
slaughtered, and the houses reduced to ashes. The
insurgents were speedily put down and punished :
the government resolved to restore the ruined town :
the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council of
London were invited to assist in the work ; and King
James the First made over to them in their corporate
capacity the ground covered by the ruins of the old
* A True Relation of the Actions of the Actions of the Inniskilling
of the Inniskilling mcn^ by Andrew men, by Captain William Mac
flarailton. Rector of Kilskerrie^ and Cormick, one of the first that took
one of the Prebends of the Diocese up Arms, l691.
of Clogher, an Eyewitness thereof f Hamilton's True Relation ; Mac
and Actor therein, licensed Jan. 15. Cormick*s Further Impartial Ac-
1 6 J 5 ; A Further Impartial Account count.
142 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Derry, and about six thousand English acres in the
neighbourhood.*
1689. This country, then uncultivated and uninhabited, is
now enriched by industry, embellished by taste, and
pleasing even to eyes accustomed to the Tvell tiDed
fields and stately manor houses of England. A new
city soon arose which, on account of its connection with
the capital of the empire, was called Londonderry.
The buildings covered the summit and slope of a hill
which overlooked the broad stream of the Foyle, then
whitened by vast flocks of wild swans.f On the highest
ground stood the Cathedral, a church which, thougb
erected when the secret of Gothic architecture was lost,
and though ill qualified to sustain a comparison with
the aAvfiil temples of the middle ages, is not withoat
grace and dignity. Near the Cathedral rose the palace
of the Bishop, whose see was one of the most valuable
in Ireland. The city was in form nearly an ellipse ;
and the principal streets fonned a cross, the arms of
which met in a square called the Diamond. The
original houses have been either rebuilt or so mucli
repaired that their ancient character can no longer be
traced ; but many of them were standing within Uving
memory. They were in general two stories in height ;
and some of them had stone staircases on the outside.
The dwellings were encompassed by a wall of which
the whole circumference was little less than a mile.
On the bastions were planted culverins and sakers
presented by the wealthy guilds of London to the
colony. On some of these ancient guns, which have done
memorable service to a great cause, the devices of the
Fishmongers' Company, of the Vintners' Company, and
of the Merchant Tailors' Company are still discemible.J |
• Concise View of the Irish So- the preservation of Ireland, licensed
ciety, 1822 ; Mr. Heath's interesting July 17- I689.
Accountof the Worshipful Company ^ These things I observed or
of Grocers, Appendix 17. learned on the spot.
f The Interest of England in
WILLIAM AND MARY. 143
The inhabitants were Protestants of Anglosaxon chap.
blood. They were indeed not all of one country or L
of one church : but Englishmen and Scotchmen, Epi- ^^89-
scopalians and Presbyterians, seem to have generally
lived together in friendship, a friendship which is
sufficiently explained by their common antipathy to
the Irish race and to the Popish religion. During the
rebellion of 1641, Londonderry had resolutely held out
against the native chieftains, and had been repeatedly
besieged in vain.* Since the Restoration the city
had prospered. The Foyle, when the tide was high,
brought up ships of large burden to the quay. The
fisheries throve greatly. The nets, it was said, were
sometimes so full that it was necessary to fling back
multitudes of fish into the waves. The quantity of
salmon caught annually was estimated at eleven hundred
thousand pounds' weight.f
The people of Londonderry shared in the alarm ciowngof
which, towards the close of the year 1688, was general ©f^i^^Sn.
among the Protestants settled in Ireland. It was ^^"'y-
known that the aboriginal peasantry of the neigh-
bourhood were laying in pikes and knives. Priests
had been haranguing in a style of which, it must be
owned, the Puritan part of the Anglosaxon colony
had little right to complain, about the slaughter of
the Amalekites, and the judgments which Saul had
brought on himself by sparing one of the proscribed
race. Rumours from various quarters and anonymous
letters in various hands agreed in naming the ninth
of December as the day fixed for the extirpation of
the strangers. While the minds of the citizens were
agitated by these reports, news came that a regiment
of twelve hundred Papists, commanded by a Papist,
♦ The best account that I haye of the Presbyterian Church in Ire-
seen of what passed at London- land.
derry during the war which began f The Interest of EngUind in the
in l641 is in Dr. Reid's History Preservation of Ireland; 1 689.
144 UISTORT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Alexander Macdonnell, Earl of Antrim, had recdTid
L orders from the Lord Deputy to occupy Londondoiy,
^^^9* and was already on the inarch from Coleraine. The
consternation was extreme. Some were for closing the E
gates and resisting ; some for submitting ; some for
temporising. The corporation had, like the other
corporations of Ireland, been remodelled. The magis-
trates were men of low station and character. Among
them was only one person of Anglosaxon extraction;
and he had turned Papist. In such rulers the in-
habitants could place no confidence.* The Bishop,
Ezekiel Hopkins, resolutely adliered to the doctrine
of nonresistance which he had preached during many
years, and exhorted his flock to go patiently to the
slaughter rather than incur the guilt of disobeying
the Lord's Anouited.f Antrim was meanwhile draw-
ing nearer and nearer. At length the citizens saw
from the walls his troops arrayed on the opposite
shore of the Foyle. There was then no bridge : but
there was a ferry which kept up a constant co»-
munication between the two banks of the river ; and
by this ferry a detachment from Antrim's regiment
crossed. The officers presented themselves at the gate,
produced a warrant directed to the Mayor and Sheriffs,
and demanded admittance and quarters for his Ma-
jesty's soldiers.
* My authority for thii unfa- " For burgesses and iVeemen they hi-l
yourable account of the corporation B™g"S^m.ker^ butchen, npt, »d nrh
IS an epic poem entitled the Lon- as those:
deriad. This extraordinary work In all the corporation not a man
must have been written very soon Of BriUsh parents, exwpt Buchanan.-
after the events to which it relates ; This Buchanan is afterwards de-
for it is dedicated to Robert Koch- scribed as
fort, Speaker of the House of Com- " A knave all o'er,
mons; and Rochfort was Speaker For he had learned to tell hia beads ^
from 1695 to l()9y. The poet had
no invention ; he hatl evidently a t See a sermon preached by him
minute knowledge of the city which »' Dublin on Jan. 31. 1669. The
he celebrated ; and his doggerel is *<^xt is " Submit yourselves to every
consequently not without historical ordinance of man for the Lord's
value. He says: sake."
s
WILLIAM AND MABT. 145
Just at this moment thirteeen young apprentices, chap.
most of whom appear, from their names, to have L
been of Scottish birth or descent, flew to the guard 1^89.
room, armed themselves, seized the keys of the city,
rushed to the Ferry Gate, closed it in the face of the
King's officers, and let down the portcullis. James
Morison, a citizen more advanced in years, addressed
the intruders from the top of the wall and advised
them to be gone. They stood in consultation before
: the gate till they heard him cry, " Bring a great gun
* this way." They then thought it time to get beyond
■ the range of shot. They retreated, reembarked, and
5 rejoined their comrades on the other side of the river.
'"^ The flame had already spread. The whole city was up.
* The other gates were secured. Sentinels paced the
*^ ramparts everywhere. The magazines were opened.
" Muskets and gunpowder were distributed. Messengers
^ were sent, under cover of the following night, to the
9^ Protestant gentlemen of the neighbouring counties.
The bishop expostulated in vain. It is indeed probable
■; that the vehement and daring young Scotchmen who
' had taken the lead on this occasion had little respect
? for his office. One of them broke in on a discourse
■ with which he interrupted the military preparations by
exclaiming, " A good sermon, my lord ; a very good
sermon ; but we have not time to hear it just now."*
The Protestants of the neighbourhood promptly
i obeyed the summons of Londonderry. Within forty
eight hours hundreds of horse and foot came by various
■ roads to the city. Antrim, not thinking himself strong
* enough to risk an attack, or not disposed to take on him-
m * Walker's Account of the Siege Blind. This last work, a manuscript
of Derry, l689; Mackenzie's Nar- in the possession of Lord Fingal, is
^ rative of the Siege of Londonderry, the work of a zealous Roman Catho-
' 1689; An Apology for the failures lie and a mortal enemy of England.
-f charged on the Reverend Mr. Large extracts from it are among
ft Walker's Account of the late Siege the Mackintosh MSS. The date in
of Derry, l689; A Light to the the titlepage is I7II.
VOL. III. L
i
146 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, self the responsibility of commencing a civil war without
^^^' further orders, retired with his troops to Coleraane.
1689. It might have been expected that the resistance of
Mountjoy Euniskillen and Londonderry would have irritated
^cify Tyrconnel into taking some desperate step. And in
uuter. truth his savage and imperious temper was at first
inflamed by the news almost to madness. But, after
wreaking his rage, as usual, on his wig, he became
somewhat calmer. Tidings of a very sobering nature
had just reached him. The Prince of Orange was
marching unopposed to London. Almost every county
and every great town in England had declared for
him. James, deserted by his ablest captains and by
his nearest relatives, had sent commissioners to treat
with the invaders, and had issued writs convoking
a Parliament. While the result of the negotiations
which were pending in England was uncertain, the
Viceroy could not venture to take a bloody revenge on
the refractory Protestants of Ireland. He therefore
thought it expedient to aflfect for a time a clemency
and moderation which were by no means congenial to
his disposition. The task of quieting the Englishry
of Ulster was intrusted to William Stewart, Viscount
Mountjoy. Mountjoy, a brave soldier, an accomplished
scholar, a zealous Protestant, and yet a zealous Tory,
was one of the very few members of the Established
Church who stiU held office in Ireland. He was Master
of the Ordnance in that kingdom, and was colonel of a
regiment in which an uncommonly large proportion of
the Englishry had been suffered to remain. At Dublin
he was the centre of a small circle of learned and in-
genious men who had, under his presidency, formed
themselves into a Royal Society, the image, on a small
scale, of the Royal Society of London. In Ulster, with
which he was peculiarly connected, his name was held
in high honour by the colonists.* He hastened with his
* As to Mountjoy 's character and position, sec Clarendon's Ictten from
WILLIAM AND MARY. 147
regiment to Londonderry, and was well received there, chap.
For it was known that, though he was firmly attached ^'^
to hereditary monarchy, he was not less firmly attached 1689.
to the reformed religion. The citizens readily per-
mitted him to leave within their walls a small garrison
exclusively composed of Protestants, under the com-
mand of his lieutenant colonel, Robert Lundy, who
took the title of Governor.*
The news of Moun^oy's visit to Ulster was highly
gratifying to the defenders of Enniskillen. Some gen-
tlemen deputed by that town waited on him to re-
quest his good offices, but were disappointed by the
reception which they found. " My advice to you is,"
he said^ " to submit to the King's authority." " What,
my Lord ?" said one of the deputies ; " Are we to sit
stai and let ourselves be butchered?" "The King,"
said Mountjoy, " will protect you." " K all that we
hear be true," said the deputy, " his Majesty will find
it hard enough to protect himself." The conference
ended in this unsatisfactory manner. Enniskillen still
kept its attitude of defiance ; and Mountjoy returned
to Dublin.f
By this time it had indeed become evident that James
could not protect himself. It was known in Ireland
that he had fled ; that he had been stopped ; that he
had fled again ; that the Pritice of Orange had arrived
at Westminster in triumph, had taken on himself the
adnunistration of the reahn, and had issued letters
summoning a Convention.
Those lords and gentlemen at whose request the wmiam
Prince had assumed the government, had earnestly in- n^jiatjon
treated him to take the state of Ireland into his immediate ▼ith Xyr-
conneL
Irdand, pardcaUuiy that to Lord * Walker's Account; Light to
DMtmoath of Feb 8., and that to the Blind.
Ereijn of Feb. 14. l68^ '' Bon t Mac Cormick's Further Ira-
offider, et hmnme d'esprit/' says partial Account
Atiiue.
L S
148 HISTORY OP ENGLAND.
consideration ; and he had in reply assured them that
he would do his best to maintain the Protestant reli^on
I689. and the English interest in that kingdom. His enemies
afterwards accused him of utterly disregarding this
promise : nay, they alleged that he purposely suffered
Ireland to sink deeper and deeper in calamity. Halifax,
they said, had, with cruel and perfidious ingenuity,
devised this mode of placing the Convention under a
species of duress ; and the trick had succeeded but too
well. The vote which called William to the throne
would not have passed *so easily but for the extreme
dangers which threatened the state ; and it was in con-
sequence of his own dishonest inactivity that those
dangers had become extreme.* As this accusation
rests on no proof, those who repeat it are at least bound
to show that some course clearly better than the course
which William took was open to him ; and this they
will find a difficult task. K indeed he could, within a
few weeks after his arrival in London, have sent a
great expedition to Ireland, that kingdom might per-
haps, after a short struggle, or without a struggle, have
submitted to his authority ; and a long series of crimes
and calamities might have been averted. But the
factious orators and pamphleteers, who, much at their
ease, reproached him for not sending such an expe-
dition, would have been perplexed if they had been
required to find the men, the ships, and the funds. The
English army had lately been arrayed against him : part
of it was stiU ill disposed towards him ; and the whole
was utterly disorganized. Of the army which he had
brought from Holland not a regiment could be spared.
He had found the treasury empty and the pay of the
navy in arrear. He had no power to hypothecate any
part of the public revenue. Those who lent him money
* Burnet, i. 807 ; and the notes in the Obserrator^ repeats this idle
by Swift and Dartmouth. Tutchin, calumny.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 149
lent it on no security but his bare word. It was only chap.
by the patriotic liberality of the merchants of London ^^^
that he was enabled to defray the ordinary charges of 1689.
government till the meeting of the Convention. It is
surely unjust to blame him for not instantly fitting out,
in such circumstances, an armament sufficient to con-
quer a kingdom.
Perceiving that, till the government of England was
settled, it would not be in his power to interfere effec-
tually by arms in the affairs of Ireland, he determined
to try what effect negotiation would produce. Those
who judged after the event pronounced that he had not,
on this occasion, shown his usual sagacity. He ought,
they said, to have known that it was absurd to expect
submission from Tyrconnel. Such however was not
at the time the opinion of men who had the best means
of information, and whose interest was a sufficient
pledge for their sincerity. A great meeting of noble-
men and gentlemen who had property in Ireland was
held^ during the interregnum, at the house of the Duke
of Ormond in Saint James's Square. They advised the
Prinfte to try whether the Lord Deputy might not be
induced to capitulate on honourable and advantageous
terms.* In truth there is strong reason to believe that
Tyrconnel reaUy wavered. For, fierce as were his
passions, they never made him forgetfiil of his interest ;
and he might well doubt whether it were not for his
interest, in declining years and health, to retire from
business with full indemnity for all past offences, with
high rank and with an ample fortune, rather than to
stake his life and property on the event of a war
against the whole power of England. It is certain
that he professed himself willing to yield. He opened
a communication with the Prince of Orange, and
affected to take counsel with Mountjoy, and with others
• The Orange Gazette, Jan. 10. l68f .
L 3
150 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, who, though they had not thrown off their allegiance
^11 to James, were yet firmly attached to the Established
1689. Church and to the English connection.
The In one quarter, a quarter from which William was
consulted, justified in expecting the most judicious counsel, there
was a strong conviction that the professions of Tyr-
connel were sincere. No British statesman had then
so high a reputation throughout Europe as Sir William
Temple. His diplomatic skill had, twenty years be-
fore, arrested the progress of the French power. He
had been a steady and an useful friend to the United
Provinces and to the House of Nassau. He had long
been on terms of friendly confidence with the Prince of
Orange, and had negotiated that marriage to which
England owed her recent deliverance. With the af-
fairs of Ireland Temple was supposed to be peculiarly
weU acquainted. His family had considerable property
there : he had himself resided there during several
years : he had represented the county of Carlow in
parliament ; and a large part of his income was derived
from a lucrative Irish office. There was no height of
power, of rank, or of opulence, to which he might not
have risen, if he would have consented to quit his
retreat, and to lend his assistance and the weight of his
name to the new government. But power, rank, and
opulence had less attraction for his Epicurean temper
than ease and security. He rejected the most tempting
invitations, and continued to amuse himself with his
books, his tulips, and his pineapples, in rural seclusion.
With some hesitation, however, he consented to let his
eldest son John enter into the service of William.
During the vacancy of the throne, John Temple was
employed in business of high importance ; and, on
subjects connected with Ireland, his opinion, which
might reasonably be supposed to agree with his father's,
had great weight. The young politician flattered him-
self that he had secured the services of an agent emi-
W1LLIA3I AND MARY. 151
nently qualified to bring the negotiation with Tyrconnel chap.
to a prosperous issue.
This agent was one of a remarkable family which i^^a
had sprung £jx)m a noble Scottish stock, but which had ^1^5^
long been settled in Ireland, and which professed the aent to
Roman Catholic religion. In the gay crowd which hiJ^^roie"
thronged Whitehall, during those scandalous years of
jubilee which immediately followed the Restoration, the
Hamiltons were preeminently conspicuous. The long
&ir ringlets, the radiant bloom, and the languishing
blue eyes of the lovely Elizabeth still charm us on the
canvass of Lely. She had the glory of achieving no
vulgar conquest. It was reserved for her voluptuous
beauty and for her flippant wit to overcome the aversion
which the coldhearted and scoffing Granunont felt for
the indissoluble tie. One of her brothers, Anthony,
became the chronicler of that brilliant and dissolute
society of which he had been one of the most brilliant
and most dissolute members. He deserves the high
praise of having, though not a Frenchman, written the
book which is, of all books, the most exquisitely French,
both in spirit and in manner. Another brother, named
Richard, had, in foreign service, gained some military
experience. His wit and politeness had distinguished
him even in the splendid circle of Versailles. It was
whispered that he had dared to lift his eyes to an
exalted lady, the natural daughter of the Great King,
the wife of a legitimate prince of the House of Bourbon,
and that she had not seemed to be displeased by the
attentions of her presumptuous admirer.* The adven-
toror had subsequently returned to his native country,
had been appointed Brigadier General in the Irish
army, and had been sworn of the Irish Privy Council.
When the Dutch invasion was expected, he came across
Saint George's Channel with the troops which Tyrconnel
sent to reinforce the royal army. After the flight of
* M^oircs dc Madame de la Fayette.
L 4
152 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. James, those troops submitted to the Prince of Orange.
^^^' Richard Hamilton not only made his own peace with
1689. what was now the ruling power, but declai^ himself
confident that, if he were sent to Dublin, he could
conduct the negotiation which had been opened there
to a happy close. K he failed, he pledged his word to
return to London in three weeks. His influence in
Ireland was known to be great : his honour had never
been questioned ; and he was highly esteemed by the
Temple family. John Temple declared that he would
answer for Richard Hamilton as for himself. This
guarantee was thought sufficient ; and Hamilton set out
for Ireland, assuring his English friends that he should
soon bring Tyrconnel to reason. The offers which he
was authorised to make to the Roman Catholics and
to the Lord Deputy personally were most liberal.*
Tyrconnel It is not impossible that Hamilton may have really
MoSJi^oy iJ^^ant to perform his promise. But when he arrived at
and^Rice Dublin he found that he had undertaken a task which
was beyond his power. The hesitation of Tyrconnel,
whether genuine or feigned, was at an end. He had
found that he had no longer a choice. He had with
little difficulty stimulated the ignorant and suscep-
tible Irish to fiiry. To calm them was beyond his
skill. Rumours were abroad that the Viceroy was cor-
responding with the English ; and these rumours had
set the nation on fire. The cry of the common people
was that, if he dared to sell them for wealth and honours,
they would bum the Castle and him in it, and would
put themselves under the protection of France.f It was
necessary for him to protest, truly or falsely, that he
had never harboured any thought of submission, and
that he had pretended to negotiate only for the purpose
of gaining time. Yet, before he openly declared against
the English settlers, and against England herself, what
* Burnet, i. 808.; Life of James, + Avaux to Lewis, ~^* I689.
ii. 320.; Commons' Journals, July ^
29. 1689.
to France.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 153
must be a war to the death, he wished to rid himself of chap.
Mountjoy, who had hitherto been true to the cause of
James, but who, it was well known, would never con- ^^^9.
sent to be a party to the spoliation and oppression of
the colonists. Hypocritical professions of friendship
and of pacific intentions were not spared. It was a
sacred duty, Tyrconnel said, to avert the calamities
which seemed to be impending. King James himself,
if he understood the whole case, would not wish his
Irish friends to engage at that moment in an enterprise
which must be fatal to them and useless to him. He
would permit them, he would command them, to submit
to necessity, and to reserve themselves for better times.
If any man of weight, loyal, able, and well informed,
would repair to Saint Germains and explain the state
of things, his Majesty would easily be convinced. Would
Moun^oy undertake this most honourable and important
mission ? Mountjoy hesitated, and suggested that some
person more likely to be acceptable to the King should be
the messenger. Tyrconnel swore, ranted, declared that,
unless King James were well advised^ Ireland-would sink
to the pit of hell, and insisted that Mountjoy should go
as the representative of the loyal members of the Esta-
blished Church, and should be accompanied by Chief
Baron Rice, a Roman Catholic high in the royal favour.
Moimtjoy yielded. The two ambassadors departed to-
gether, but with very diflferent commissions. Rice
was charged to teU James that Mountjoy was a traitor
at heart, and had been sent to France only that the
Protestants of Ireland might be deprived of a favourite
leader. The King was to be assured that he was im-
patiently expected in Ireland, and that, if he would
show himself there with a French force, he might
speedily retrieve his Mien fortunes.* The Chief Baron
* Clarke's Life of James^ ii. 321.; '< Light to the Blind " Tyrcon-
Monn^oy's -Gircolar Letter^ dated ners " wise dissimulation " is com-
Jan. 10. 168(; King, iv. 8. In mended.
armfl.
154 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, carried with him other instructions which were pToba-
^^^ bly kept secret even from the Court of Saint Germains.
1689. If James should be unwilling to put himself at the head
of the native population of Ireland, Rice was directed
to request a private audience of Lewis, and to offer to
make the island a province of France.*
Tyrconnei As sooH as the two CHvoys had departed, Tyrconnel
JJ^^**® set hhnself to prepare for the conflict which had become
people to inevitable ; and he was strenuously assisted by the
faithless Hamilton. The Irish nation was called to
arms; and the call was obeyed with strange promp-
titude and enthusiasm. The flag on the Castle of
Dublin was embroidered with the words, " Now or
never: now and for ever:" and those words resounded
through the whole island.f Never in modem Europe
has there been such a rising up of a whole people.
The habits of the Celtic peasant were such that he
made no sacrifice in quitting his potatoe ground for
the camp. He loved excitement and adventure. He
feared work far more than danger. His national and
religious feelings had, during three years, been ex-
asperated by the constant application of stimulants.
At every fair and market he had heard that a good time
was at hand, that the tyrants who spoke Saxon and
lived in slated houses were about to be swept away,
and that the land would again belong to its own
children. By the peat fires of a himdred thousand
cabins had nightly been sung rude ballads which pre-
dicted the deliverance of the oppressed race. The
priests, most of whom belonged to those old families
which the Act of Settlement had ruined, but which
were still revered by the native population, had, from
a thousand altars, charged every Catholic to show his
zeal for the true Church by providing weapons against
* Avaux to Lewis, April ^. Feb. 2/5. I689 ; Mcphibosheth and
1689. Ziba, IG89.
I Printed Letter from Dublin,
WILLIAM AND MABT. 155
the day when it might be necessary to try the chances chap.
of battle in her cause. The army, which, under Or- ^^^
mond, had consisted of only eight regiments, was now 1^89-
increased to forty eight : and the ranks were soon full
to overflowing. It was impossible to find at short no-
tice one tenth of the number of good officers which was
required. Commissions were scattered profusely among
idle cosherers who claimed to be descended from good
Irish families. Yet even thus the supply of captains
and lieutenants fell short of the demand; and many
companies were commanded by cobblers, tailors and
footmen.*
The pay of the soldiers was very small. The private nerarta-
had only threepence a day. One half only of this pit- tm^^^
tance was ever given him in money; and that half was
often in arrear. But a far more seductive bait than his
miserable stipend was the prospect of boundless license.
If the government allowed him less than sufficed for
his wants, it was not extreme to mark the means by
which he supplied the deficiency. Though four fifths
of the population of Ireland were Celtic and Roman
Catholic, more than four fifths of the property of Ire-
land belonged to the Protestant Englishry. The gar-
ners, the cellars, above all the flocks and herds of the
minority, were abandoned to the majority. Whatever
the regular troops spared was devoured by bands
of marauders who overran almost every barony in the
island. For the arming was now universal. No man
dared to present himself at mass without some weapon,
a pike, a long knife called a skean, or, at the very least,
a strong ashen stake, pointed and hardened in the fire.
^ The oonneetion of the priestB narrowly escaped with life from
with the old Irish families is men- thence, 1689; A True Account of
tioiicd in Petty's Political Anatomy the Sute of Ireland, hy a person
of IrdaiML See the Short View who with great difficulty left Dublin,
by a dergyman lately escaped, 1689; King, ii. 7. Avaux con-
1689 ; Ireland's LamenUtion, by firms all that these writers say about
an English Protestant diat lately the Irish officers.
156 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. The very women were exhorted by their spiritual
^ ^ directors to carry skeans. Every smith, every car-
1689. penter, every cutler, was at constant work on guns
and blades. It was scarcely possible to get a horse
shod. If any Protestant artisan refused to assist in
the manufacture of implements which were to be used
against his nation and his religion, he was flung into
prison. It seems probable that, at the end of Fe-
bruary, at least a hundred thousand Irishmen were in
arms. Near fifty thousand of them were soldiers.
The rest were banditti, whose violence and licentious-
ness the Government affected to disapprove, but did not
reaUy exert itself to suppress. The Protestants not
only were not protected, but were not suffered to pro-
tect themselves. It was determined that they should
be left unarmed in the midst of an armed and hos-
tile population. A day was fixed on which they were
to bring all their swords and firelocks to the parish
churches; and it was notified that every Protestant
house in which, after that day, a weapon should be found
should be given up to be sacked by the soldiers. Bitter
complaints were made that any knave might, by hiding
a spear head or an old gun barrel in a comer of a man-
sion, bring utter ruin on the owner.*
Chief Justice Keating, himself a Protestant, and
almost the only Protestant who still held a great place
in Ireland, struggled courageously in the cause of jus-
tice and order against the united strength of the govem-
• At the French War Office is a State of Papist and ProtesUnt Pro-
report on the State of Ireland in perties in the Kingdom of Ireland,
February I689. In that report it I689 ; A true Representation to the
is said that the Irish who had en- King and People of England how
listed as soldiers were forty fiye Matters were carried on all along in
thousand, and that the number Ireland, licensed Aug. I6. l689;
would have been a hundred thou- Letter from Dublin, 1689 ; Ireland*8
sand if all who volunteered had Lamentation, 16'89; Compleat His-
been admitted. See the Sad and tory of the Life and Military Actions
Lamentable Condition of the Pro- of Richard, £arl of Tyrconnel, Ge-
testants in Ireland, 1689; Hamil- neralissimo of all the Irish forces
ton's True Relation, I69O; The now in arms, I689.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 157
ment and the populace. At the Wicklow assizes of chap.
that spring, he, from the seat of judgment, set forth -
Avith great strength of language the miserable state of 1^89.
the country. Whole counties, he said, were devastated
by a rabble resembling the vultures and ravens which
follow the march of an army. Most of these wretches
were not soldiers. They acted under no authority
known to the law. Yet it was, he owned, but too
evident that they were encouraged and screened by
some who were in high command. How else could it
be that a market overt for plunder should be held within
a short distance of the capital ? The stories which
travellers told of the savage Hottentots near the Cape
of Good Hope were realised in Leinster. Nothing was
more cpnunon than for an honest man to lie down rich
in flocks and herds acquired by the industry of a long
life, and to wake a beggar. It was however to small
purpose that Keating attempted, in the midst of that
feaiful anarchy, to uphold the supremacy of the law.
Priests and military chiefs appeared on the bench for
the purpose of overawing the judge and countenancing
the robbers. One ruffian escaped because no prosecutor
dared to appear. Another declared that he had armed
himself in conformity to the orders of his spiritual
guide, and to the example of many persons of liigher
station than himself, whom he saw at that moment in
Court. Two only of the Merry Boys, as they were
called, were convicted : the worst criminals escaped ;
and the Chief Justice indignantly told the jurymen that
the guilt of the public ruin lay at their door.*
When such disorder prevailed in Wicklow, it is easy
to imagine what must have been the state of districts
more barbarous and more remote from the seat of
government. Keating appears to have been the only
magistrate who strenuously exerted himself to put the
law in force. Indeed Nugent, the Chief Justice of the
* See the proceedings in the State Trials.
158 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
highest criminal court of the reahn, declared on the
bench at Cork that, without violence and spoliation,
1689. the intentions of the Gk>vemment could not be carried
into effect, and that robbery must at that conjuncture
be tolerated as a necessary evil.*
The destruction of property which took place within
a few weeks would be incredible, if it were not attested
by witnesses unconnected with each other and attached
to very different interests. There is a close, and some-
times almost a verbal, agreement between the descrip-
tions given by Protestants, who, during that reign of
terror, escaped, at the hazard of their lives, to England,
and the descriptions given by the envoys, commissaries,
and captains of Lewis. All agreed in declaring that it
would take many years to repair the waste which had
been wrought in a few weeks by the armed peasantry.f
Some of the Saxon aristocracy had mansions richly ftir-
nished, and sideboards gorgeous with silver bowls and
chargers. All this wealth disappeared. One house, in
which there had been three thousand pounds' worth of
plate, was left without a spoon. J But the chief riches
of Ireland consisted in cattle. Innimierable flocks and
herds covered that vast expanse of emerald meadow,
saturated with the moisture of the Atlantic. More
than one gentleman possessed twenty thousand sheep
and four thousand oxen. The freebooters who now
overspread the country belonged to a class which was
accustomed to live on potatoes and sour whey^ and which
had always regarded meat as a luxury reserved for the
rich. These men at first revelled in beef and mutton,
as the savage invaders, who of old poured down from
the forests of the north on Italy, revelled in Massic
and Falemian wines. The Protestants described with
* King^ ill. 10. X Animadyersiong on the proposal
f Ten yean, says the French for sending back the nobility and
ambassador ; twenty years, says a gentry of Ireland ; l6f f .
Protestant fugitive.
WILLIA^I AXD ALAJIY. 159
contemptuous disgust the strange gluttony of their chap.
newly liberated slaves. The carcasses, half raw and ^^^
half burned to cinders, sometimes still bleeding, some- 1^9-
times in a state of loathsome decay, were torn to pieces
and swallowed without salt, bread, or herbs. Those
marauders who preferred boiled meat, being often in
want of kettles, contrived to boil the steer in his own
skin. An absurd tragicomedy is still extant, which
was acted in this and the following year at some low
theatre for the amusement of the English populace.
A crowd of half naked savages appeared on tiie stage,
howling a Celtic song and dancing round an ox. They
then proceeded to cut steaks out of the animal while
still alive and to fling the bleeding flesh on the coals.
In truth the barbarity and filthiness of the banquets
of the Kapparees was such as the dramatists of
Grub Street could scarcely caricature. When Lent
began, the plunderers generally ceased to devour, but
continued to destroy. A peasant would kill a cow
merely in order to get a pair of brogues. Often a
whole flock of sheep, often a herd of fifty or sixty kine,
was slaughtered : the beasts were flayed ; the fleeces
and hides were carried away ; and the bodies were left
to poison the air. The French ambassador reported to
his master that, in six weeks, fifty thousand homed
cattle had been slain in this manner, and were rotting
on the ground all over the country. The number of
sheep that were butchered during the same time was
popularly said to have been three or four hundred
thousand.*
• KingiiiL 10.; The Sad EsUte The Royal Voyage, acted in I689
and Condition of Ireland, as repre* and I69O. This drama> which, I
aented in a Letter from a Worthy helieve, was performed at Bartholo-
Penon who was in Duhlin on Friday mew Fair^ is one of the most curious
last, March 4. l689 ; Short View of a curious class of compositions,
bj a Clergynian, l689; Lamenta- utterly destitute of literary merit,
tion of Ireland, l689 ; Compleat but valuable as showing what were
History of the Life and Actions of then the most successful claptraps
Ridiard, Earl of Tyrconnel, l6S9 ; for an audience composed of the
160
HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP.
XIL
1689.
The Pro-
testants in
the South
unable to
resist.
Any estimate which can now be framed of the value
of the property destroyed during this fearful conflict
of races must necessarily be very inexact. We are
not however absolutely without materials for such an
estimate. The Quakers were neither a very numerous
nor a very opulent class. We can hardly suppose that
they were more than a fiftieth part of the Rrotestant
population of Ireland, or that they possessed more than a
fiftieth part of the Protestant wealth of Ireland. They
were undoubtedly better treated than any other Pro-
testant sect. James had always been partial to them :
they own that Tyrconnel did his best to protect them ;
and they seem to have found f^tvour even in the sight
of the Rapparees.* Yet the Quakers computed their
pecuniary losses at a hundred thousand pounds.f
In Leinster, Munster and Connaught, it was ut-
terly impossible for the English settlers, few as they
were and dispersed, to offer any effectual resistance to
this terrible outbreak of the aboriginal population.
Charleville, Mallow, Sligo, fell into the han^ of the
natives. Bandon, where the Protestants had mustered in
considerable force, was reduced by Lieutenant General
common people. " The end of this
play/' says the author in his preface,
'' is chiefly to expose the perfidious^
base^ cowardly^ and bloody nature
of the Irish." The account which
the fugitive Protestants give of the
wanton destruction of cattle is con-
firmed by Avaux in a letter to Lewis^
dated April ^|. l689, and by Des-
grigny in a letter to Louvois, dated
May ^ 1690. Most of the de-
spatches written by Avaux during
his mission to Ireland are contained
in a volume of which a very few
copies were printed some years ago
at the English Foreign Office. Of
many I have also copies made at
the French Foreign Office. The
letters of Desgrigny, who was em-
ployed in the Commissariat, I found
in the Library of the French "War
Office. I cannot too strongly ex-
press my sense of the liberality and
courtesy with which the immense
and admirably arranged storehouses
of curious information at Paris were
thrown open to me.
* *' A remarkable thing never to
be forgotten was that they that
were in government then " — at the
end of 1688 — " seemed to favour us
and endeavour to preserve Friends."
History of the Rise and Progress of
the People called Quakers in Ire«
land^ by Wight and Rutty, Dublin,
1751. King indeed (iii. 1?) re-
proaches the Quakers as allies and
tools of the Papists.
t Wight and Rutty.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 161
Macarthy, an Irish officer who was descended from one chap.
of the most illustrious Celtic houses, and who had long
served, under a feigned name, in the French army.* 168.9.
The people of Kenmare held out in their little fastness
till they were attacked by three thousand regular sol-
diers, and till it was known that several pieces of ord-
nance were coming to batter down the turf wall which
surrounded the agent's house. Then at length a capi-
tulation was concluded. The colonists were suffered to
embark in a small vessel scantily supplied with food and
water. They had no experienced navigator on board :
but after a voyage of a fortnight, during which they
were crowded together like slaves in a Guinea ship,
and suffered the extremity of thirst and hunger, they
reached Bristol in safety.f When such was the fate of
the towns, it was evident that the country seats which
the Protestant landowners had recently fortified in the
three southern provinces could no longer be defended.
Many families submitted, delivered up their arms, and
thought themselves happy in escaping with life. But
many resolute and highspirited gentlemen and yeomen
were determined to perish rather than yield. They
packed up such valuable property as could easily be
carried away, burned whatever they could not remove,
and, well armed and mounted, set out for those spots in
Ulster which were the strongholds of their race and of
their fiuth. The flower of the Protestant population
of Munster and Connaught found shelter at Ennis-
killen. Whatever was bravest and most truehearted
in Leinster took the road to Londonderry. J
^ Life of Jtmet^ ii. 327. Orig. King and People of England how
Mem. Macarthj and his feigned Matters were carried on all along
name are repeatedly mentioned hy in Ireland by the late King James,
an. licensed Aug. I6. 1689; A true
f Exact Rdation of the Persecu- Account of the Present Sute of
tioii% Robberies and Losses sustained Ireland by a Person that with
by the Protestants of KiUmare in Great Difficulty left Dublin, li-
Ireland, I689. censed June 8. I6S9.
X A true Bepreaentation to the
VOL. in. M
162 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. The spirit of Enniskillen and Londonderry rose
L. higher and higher to meet the danger. At both places
1689. the tidings of what had been done by the Convention
Md w^° at Westminster were received with transports of joy.
donderry William and Mary were proclaimed at Enniskillen with
^^^ unanimous enthusiasm, and with such pomp as the
little town could furnish.* Limdy, who commanded
at Londonderry, could not venture to oppose himself
to the general sentiment of the citizens and of his own
soldiers. He therefore gave in his adhesion to the
new government, and signed a declaration by which he
bound himself to stand by that government, on pain
of being considered a coward and a traitor. A vessel
from England soon brought a conunission from William
and Mary which confirmed him in his office.f
Richard To rcducc the Protestants of Ulster to submission
HamUton jjeforc aid could arrive from Ens^land was now the chief
marches n rvK -ia ^
into Ulster object of Tyrconnel. A great force was ordered to
^^y^ move northward, under the command of Richard Ha-
milton. This man had violated all the obligations
which are held most sacred by gentlemen and soldiers,
liad broken faith with his friends the Temples, had
forfeited his military parole, and was now not ashamed
to take the field as a general against the government to
which he was bound to render himself up as a prisoner.
His march left on the face of the coimtry traces which
the most careless eye could not during many years fail
to discern. His army was accompanied by a rabble,
such as Keating had well compared to the unclean birds
of prey which swarm wherever the scent of carrion is
strong. The general professed himself anxious to save
from ruin and outrage all Protestants who remained
quietly at their homes ; and he most readily gave them
protections under his hand. But these protections
proved of no avail; and he was forced to own that,
• Hamilton*8 Actions of the In- -f Walker's Account, I689.
niskiUing Men, I689.
WILLIAM AND MAEY. 163
whatever power he might be able to exercise over his chap.
soldiers, he could not keep order among the mob of ^^^
campfoUowers. The country behind him was a wil- 1689.
demess ; and soon the country before him became equally
desolate. For at the fame of his approach the colonists
burned their furniture, pulled down their houses, and
retreated northward. Some of them attempted to make
a stand at Dromore, but were broken and scattered.
Then the flight became wild and tumultuous. The fugi-
tives broke down the bridges and burned the ferryboats.
Whole towns, the seats of the Protestant population,
were left in ruins without one inhabitant. The people of
Omagh destroyed their own dwellings so utterly that no
roof was left to shelter the enemy from the rain and
wind. The people of Cavan migrated in one body to En-
niskillen. The day was wet and stormy. The road was
deep in mire. It was a piteous sight to see, mingled
with the armed men, the women and children weeping,
fisunished, and toiling through the mud up to their
knees. All Lisbum fled to Antrim ; and, as the foes
drew nearer, all Lisbum and Antrim together came
pouring into Londonderry. Thirty thousand Protestants,
of both sexes and of every age, were crowded behind
the bulwarks of the City of Refuge. There, at length,
on the verge of the ocean, hunted to the last asylum,
and baited into a mood in which men may be destroyed,
but will not easily be subjugated, the imperial race
tamed desperately to bay.*
Meanwhile Moimtjoy and Rice had arrived in France. James de-
Mounljoy was instantly put under arrest and thrown gj^*°** ^
into the Bastile. James determined to comply with 're^nd.
the invitation which Rice had brought, and applied to
Lewis for the help of a French army. But Lewis,
though he showed, as to all things which concerned the
* Maekenzie's Narrative; Mac logy for the Protestants of Ireland;
Cormack's Farther Impartial Ac- Letter from Dublin of Feb. 25.
eooDt ; 8tory*8 Impartial History of 1689 ; Avaux to Lewis, April ^^.
the Afl&in of IreUnd, I691 ; Apo- I689.
V 2
164 niSTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, personal dignity and comfort of his royal guests, a
^'^ delicacy even romantic, and a liberality approaching to
1689. profusion, was unwilling to send a large body of troops
to Ireland. He saw that France would have to main-
tain a long war on the Continent against a formidable
coalition : her expenditure must be immense ; and,
great as were her resources, he felt it to be important
that nothing should be wasted. He doubtless regarded
with sincere commiseration and good will the unfor-
tunate exiles to whom he had given so princely a wel-
come. Yet neither commiseration nor good will could
prevent him from speedily discovering that his brother
of England was the dullest and most perverse of human
beings. The folly of James, his incapacity to read the
characters of men and the signs of the times, his ob-
stinacy, always most offensively displayed when wisdom
enjoined concession, his vacillation, always exhibited
most pitiably in emergencies which required fimmess,
had made him an outcast from England, and might, if
his counsels were blindly followed, bring great calami-
ties on France. As a legitimate sovereign expelled by
rebels, as a confessor of the true faith persecuted by
heretics, as a near kinsman of the House of Bourbon,
who had seated himself on the hearth of that House, he
was entitled to hospitality, to tenderness, to respect.
It was fit that he should have a stately palace and a
spacious forest, that the household troops should salute
him with the highest military honours, that he should
have at his command all the hounds of the Grand
Huntsman and all the hawks of the Grand Falconer.
But, when a prince, who, at the head of a great fleet
and army, had lost an empire without striking a blow,
undertook to furnish plans for naval and military ex-
peditions ; when a prince, who had been imdone by his
profoimd ignorance of the temper of his own country-
men, of his own soldiers, of his own domestics, of his
own children, undertook to answer for the zeal and
WILLIAM AND MARY. 165
fidelity of the Irish people, whose language he could chap.
not speak, and on whose land he had never set his foot ; ^^^
it was necessary to receive his suggestions with caution. 1689.
Such were the sentiments of Lewis ; and in these senti-
ments he was confirmed by his Minister of War Louvois,
who, on private as well as on public grounds, was un-
willing that James should be accompanied by a large
military force. Louvois hated Lauzun. Lauzun was
a favourite at Saint Germains. He wore the garter, a
badge of honour which has very seldom been conferred
on aliens who were not sovereign princes. It was
believed indeed at the French Court that, in order to
distinguish him £rom the other knights of the most
illustrious of European orders, he had been decorated
with that very Greorge which Charles the First had, on
the scaffold, put into the hands of Juxon.* Lauzun
had been encouraged to hope that, if French forces
were sent to Ireland, he should command them; and
this ambitious hope Louvois was bent on disappointing.f
An army was therefore for the present refused ; but AggUtance
every thing else was granted. The Brest fleet was S^^tllJ
ordered to be in readiness to sail. Arms for ten thou- ^ Jw^es.
sand men and great quantities of ammunition were
put on board. About four hundred captains, lieute-
nants, cadets and gunners were selected for the im-
portant service of organizing and disciplining the Irish
levies. The chief command was held by a veteran
warrior, the Count of Rosen. Under him were Mau-
mont, who held the rank of lieutenant general, and
a brigadier named Pusignan. Five hundred thou-
sand crowns in gold, equivalent to about a hundred
and twelve thousand pounds sterling, were sent to
Brest.t For Jameses personal comforts provision was
made with anxiety resembling that of a tender mother
* M^mdres de Madame de la f Burnet, ii. 17. ; Clarke's Life
Fayette; Madame de S^vignd to of James II., 320, 321 > 322.
Madame de Grignan, Feb. 28. 16*89* t Maumont*s Instructions.
M 3
166 HISTOBY OF ENGLAKD.
CHAP, equipping her son for a first campaign. The cabin
^^^ furniture, the camp fiimiture, the tents, the bedding,
1689. the plate, were luxurious and superb. Nothing which
could be agreeable or useful to the exile was too costly
for the munificence, or too trifling for the attention, of
his gracious and splendid host. On the fifteenth of
February, James paid a farewell visit to Versailles.
H. wa=^nductea?o«nd the buUdix*, ^ plantattom
with every mark of respect and kindness. The foun-
tains played in his honour. It was the season of the
Carnival ^ and never had the vast palace and the
sumptuous gardens presented a gayer aspect. In the
evening the two kings, after a long and earnest confe-
rence in private, made their appearance before a splen-
did circle of lords and ladies. " I hope," said Lewis,
in his noblest and most winning manner, "that we
are about to part, never to meet again in this world.
That is the best wish that I can form for you. But, if
any evil chance should force you to return, be assured
that you will find me to the last such as you have
found me hitherto." On the seventeenth Lewis paid
in return a farewell visit to Saint Germains. At the
moment of the parting embrace he said, with his most
amiable smile: "We have forgotten one thing, a cui-
rass for yourself. You shall have mine." The cuirass
was brought, and suggested to the wits of the Court
ingenious allusions to the Vulcanian panoply which
Achilles lent to his feebler friend. James set out for
Brest ; and his wife, overcome with sickness and sorrow,
shut herself up with her child to weep and pray.*
James was accompanied or speedily followed by seve-
ral of his own subjects, among whom the most distin-
guished were his son Berwick, Cartwright Bishop of
Chester, Powis, Dover, and Melfort. Of all the retinue,
none was so odious to the people of Great Britain
• Dangeau, Feb. ^f. ,i|. 1689 ; Madame de Sevignd, Feb. ||. ^^ ;
M^moircs de Madame de la Fayette.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 167
as Melfort. He was an apostate : he was believed by chap.
many to be an insincere apostate ; and the insolent, ^^^
arbitrary and menacing language of his state papers 1^89.
disgusted even the Jacobites. He was therefore a
favourite with his master : for to James unpopularity,
obstinacy, and implacability were the greatest recom-
mendations that a statesman could have.
What Frenchman should attend the King of England choice of
in the character of ambassador had been the subject of Jmb^
firave deliberation at Versailles. Barillon could not be ^^^ ^°
^ 1 • -w^ accompany
passed over without a marked slight. But his self- James.
indulgent habits, his want of energy, and, above all,
the credulity with which he had listened to the profes-
sions of Sunderland, had made an unfavourable impres-
sion on the mind of Lewis. What was to be done in
Ireland was not work for a trifler or a dupe. The
agent of France in that kingdom must be equal to
much more than the ordinary functions of an envoy.
It would be his right and his duty to offer advice touch-
ing every part of the political and military administra-
tion of the country in which he would represent the
most powerful and the most beneficent of allies. Baril-
lon was therefore passed over. He affected to bear his
disgrace with composure. His political career, though
it had brought great calamities both on the House of
Stuart and on the House of Bourbon, had been by no
means unprofitable to himself. He was old, he said :
he was fiit : he did not envy younger men the honour
of living on potatoes and whiskey among the Irish bogs ;
he would try to console himself with partridges, with
champagne, and with the society of the wittiest men and
prettiest women of Paris. It was rumoured, however,
that he was tortured by painfiil emotions which he was
studious to conceal : his health and spirits failed ; and
he tried to find consolation in religious duties. Some
people were much edified by the piety of the old volup-
M 4
168 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CH\P. tuary : but others attributed his death, which took place
, not long after his retreat from public life, to shame and
1689. vexation.*
The Count The Count of Avaux, whose sagacity had detected
^**^ all the plans of William, and who had vainly recom-
mended a policy which would probably have frustrated
them, was the man on whom the choice of Lewis fell.
In abilities Avaux had no superior among the numerous
able diplomatists whom his country then possessed.
His demeanour was singularly pleasing, his person
handsome, his temper bland. His manners and con-
versation were those of a gentleman who had been bred
in the most polite and magnificent of all Courts, who had
represented that Court both in Roman Catholic and
in Protestant countries, and who had acquired in his
wanderings the art of catching the tone of any society
into which chance might throw him. He was eminently
vigilant and adroit, fertile in resources, and skilful in
discovering the weak parts of a character. His own
character, however, was not without its weak parts. The
consciousness that he was of plebeian origin was the
torment of his life. He pined for nobility with a pining
at once pitiable and ludicrous. Able, experienced and
accomplished as he was, he sometimes, under the in-
fluence of this mental disease, descended to the level of
Molifere's Jourdain, and entertained malicious observers
-with scenes almost as laughable as that in which the
honest draper was made a Mamamouchi.f It would
have been weU if this had been the worst. But it is
not too much to say that of the difference between right
and wrong Avaux had no more notion than a brute.
* Memoirs of La Fare ami de Coulanges, July 23. l691«
Saint Simon ; Note of Renaudot f See Saint Simon's accoimt of
on English affairs^ l697» in the the trick by which Avaux tried to
French Archives ; Madame de Se- pass himself off at Stockholm as a
yign^,^^ March ^f l689; Let- Knight of the Order of the Holy
ter of Madame de Coulanges to M. Ghost.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 169
One sentiment was to him in the place of religion and chap.
morality, a superstitious and intolerant devotion to the
Crown which he served. This sentiment pervades all i^^S*
his despatches, and gives a colour to all his thoughts
and words. Nothing that tended to promote the in-
terest of the French monarchy seemed to him a crime.
Indeed he appears to have taken it for granted that not
only Frenclunen, but all human beings, owed a natural
allegiance to the House of Bourbon, and that whoever
hesitated to sacrifice the happiness and freedom of his
own native country to the glory of that House was a
traitor. While he resided at the Hague, he always
designated those Dutchmen who had sold themselves to
France as the well intentioned party. In the letters
which he wrote from Ireland, the same feeling appears
still more strongly. He would have been a more
sagacious politician if he had sympathized more with
those feelings of moral approbation and disapprobation
which prevail among the vulgar. For his own indif-
ference to all considerations of justice and mercy was
such that, in his schemes, he made no allowance for the
consciences and sensibilities of his neighbours. More
than once he deliberately recommended wickedness so
horrible that wicked men recoiled from it with indig-
nation. But they could not succeed even in making
their scruples intelligible to him. To every remon-
strance he listened with a cynical sneer, wondering
within himself whether those who lectured him were
such fools as they professed to be, or were only
shamming.
Such was the man whom Lewis selected to be the
compaxiion and monitor of James. Avaux was charged
to open, if possible, a communication with the malc-
cont^its in the English Parliament ; and he was autho-
rised to expend, if necessary, a hundred thousand crowns
among them.
James arrived at Brest on the fifth of March, em- James
170 " HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, barked there on board of a man of war called the Samt
•^^^ Michael, and sailed within forty eight hours. He had
1689. ample time, however, before his departure, to exhibit
^nliie ®^^® ^^ *^^ faults by which he had lost England and
Scotland, and by which he was about to lose Ireland.
Avaux wrote from the harbour of Brest that it would
not be easy to conduct any important business in con-
cert with the King of England. His Majesty could not
keep any secret from any body. The very foremast men
of the Saint Michael had already heard him say things
which ought to have been reserved for the ears of his
confidential advisers.*
The voyage was safely and quietly performed ; and,
on the afternoon of the twelfth of March, James
landed in the harbour of Kinsale. By the Roman
Catholic population he was received with shouts of
unfeigned transport. The few Protestants who re-
mained in that part of the country joined in greeting
him, and perhaps not insincerely. For, though an
enemy of their religion, he was not an enemy of
their nation ; and they might reasonably hope that
the worst king would show somewhat more respect
for law and property than had been shown by the
Merry Boys and Rapparees. The Vicar of Einsale
was among those who went to pay their duty : he
was presented by the Bishop of Chester, and was not
ungraciously received.f
James learned that his cause was prospering. In
the three southern provinces of Ireland the Protestants
were disarmed, and were so eflfectually bowed down by
terror that he had nothing to apprehend from them.
* This letter^ written to Lewis f A full and true Account of the
from the harhour of Brest, is in the Landing and Reception of the late
Archives of the French Foreign King James at Kinsale, in a letter
Office, hut is wanting in the very from Bristol, licensed April 4.
rare volume printed in Downing l689; Leslie's Answer to King;
Street Ireland's Lamentation ; Avaux,
March J|.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 171
In tlie North there was some show of resistance : but
Hamilton was marching against the malecontents ; and
there was little doubt that they would easily be 1689.
crushed. A day was spent at Kinsale in putting the
arms and ammunition out of reach of danger. Horses
sufficient to carry a few travellers were with some diffi-
culty procured; and, on the fourteenth of March,
James proceeded to Cork.*
We should greatly err if we imagined that the road James
by which he entered that city bore any resemblance co^"
to the stately approach which strikes the traveller of
the nineteenth century with admiration. At present
Cork, though deformed by many miserable relics of a
former age, holds no mean place among the ports of
the empire. The shipping is more than half what the
shipping of London was at the time of the Revolution.
The customs exceed the whole revenue which the whole
kingdom of Ireland, in the most peaceful and prosperous
times, yielded to the Stuarts. The town is adorned by
broad and well built streets, by fair gardens, by a Co-
rinthian portico which would do honour to Palladio, and
by a Gothic coUege worthy to stand in the High Street
of Oxford. In 1689, the city extended over about one
tenth part of the space which it now covers, and was
intersected by muddy streams, which have long been
concealed by arches and buildings. A desolate marsh,
in which the sportsman who pursued the waterfowl
sank deep in water and mire at every step, covered the
area now occupied by stately buildings, the palaces of
great commercial societies. There was only a single
street in which two wheeled carriages could pass each
other. From this street diverged to right and left
alleys squalid and noisome beyond the belief of those
who have formed their notions of misery from the
most miserable parts of Saint Giles's and Whitechapel.
♦ Atiuz, March J J. \6S9; Life of James, ii. 327. Orig. Mem.
172 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. One of thede alleys, called, and, by comparison, justly
called. Broad Lane, is about ten feet wide. From
1689. such places, now seats of hunger and pestilence, aban-
doned to the most wretched of manHnd, the citizens
poured forth to welcome James. He was received with
military honours by Macarthy, who held the chief com-
mand in Munster.
It was impossible for the Bang to proceed imme-
diately to Dublin ; for the southern counties had been
so completely laid waste by the banditti whom the
priests had called to arms, that the means of locomotion
were not easily to be procured. Horses had become
rarities : in a large district there were only two carts ;
and those Avaux pronounced good for nothing. Some
days elapsed before the money which had been brought
from France, though no very formidable mass, could be
dragged over the few miles which separated Cork from
Kinsale.*
While the King and his Council were employed in
trying to procure carriages and beasts, Tyrconnel ar-
rived from Dublin. He held encouraging language.
The opposition of Enniskillen he seems to have thought
deserving of little consideration. Londonderry, he said,
was the only important post held by the Protestants ;
and even Londonderry would not, in his judgment, hold
out many days.
Journey of At length Jamcs was able to leave Cork for the ca-
SSTto ™ pi*^l- 0^ *^^ tobA^ the shrewd and observant Avaux
Dublin. made many remarks. The first part of the jour-
ney was through wild highlands, where it was not
strange that there should be few traces of art and
industry. But, from Kilkenny to the gates of Dublin,
the path of the travellers lay over gently undulating
groimd rich with natural verdure. That fertile dis-
trict should have been covered with flocks and herds,
• Avaux, March ^|. I689.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 173
orchards and cornfields: but it was an untilled and chap.
If IT
unpeopled desert. Even in the towns the artisans were
very few. Manufactured articles were hardly to be 1689.
found, and if found could be procured only at inunense
prices.* The truth was that most of the English in-
habitants had fled, and that art, industry, and capital
had fled with them.
James received on his progress numerous marks of
the goodwill of the peasantry; but marks such as, to
men bred in the courts of France and England, had an
uncouth and ominous appearance. Though very few
labourers were seen at work in the fields, the road was
lined by Rapparees armed with skeans, stakes, and
half pikes, who crowded to look upon the deliverer of
their race. The highway along which he travelled
presented the aspect of a street in which a fair is held.
Pipers came forth to play before him in a style which
was not exactly that of the French opera; and the
villagers danced wildly to the music. Long frieze
mantles, resembling those which Spenser had, a cen-
tury before, described as meet beds for rebels and apt
cloaks for thieves, were spread along the path which
the cavalcade was to tread; and garlands, in which
cabbage stalks supplied the place of laurels, were offered
to the royal hand. The women insisted on kissing his
Majesty ; but it' should seem that they bore little resem-
blance to their posterity ; for this compliment was so
distasteful to him that he ordered his retinue to keep
them at a distance.f
On the twenty fourth of March he entered Dublin.
That city was then, in extent and population, the
second in the British isles. It contained between six
and seven thousand houses, and probably above thirty
• Atihz, y*^*' 1689. King James; Ireland's Lamentation;
t A fuU and true Account of the ^^8^* ^ *^« ®^^"^-
Landing and Reception of the late
174 HISTOEY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, thousand inhabitants.* In wealth and beauty, how-
^"' ever, Dublin was inferior to many English towns. Of
1689. the graceful and stately public buildings which now
adorn both sides of the Liffey scarcely one had been even
projected. The College, a very different edifice from
that which now stands on the same site, lay quite oat
of the city.f The ground which is at present occupied
by Leinster House and Charlemont House, by Sackville
Street and Merrion Square, was open meadow. Most
of the dwellings were built of timber, and have long
given place to more substantial edifices. The Castle
had in 1686 been almost iminhabitable. Clarendon
had complained that he knew of no gentleman in Pall
Mall who was not more conveniently and handsomely
lodged than the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. No public
ceremony could be performed in a becoming manner
under the Viceregal roof. Nay, in spite of constant
glazing and tiling, the rain perpetually drenched the
apartments. J Tyrconnel, since he became Lord Deputy,
had erected a new building somewhat more commo-
dious. To this building the King was conducted in
state through the southern part of the city. Every
exertion had been made to give an air of festivity and
splendour to the district which he was to traverse.
The streets, which were generally deep in mud, were
strewn with gravel. Boughs and fiowers were scat-
tered over the path. Tapestry and arras hung fix)m
the windows of those who could afford to exhibit such
finery. The poor supplied the place of rich stufiB with
blankets and coverlids. In one place was stationed a
* See the calcalations of Petty, Green near Dublin. I hire seen
King, and Davenant. If the average letters of that age directed to the
number of inhabitants to a house College, by Dublin. There are some
was the same in Dublin as in Lon« interesting old maps of Dublin in
don, the population of Dublin would the British Museum,
have been about thirty four thou- X Clarendon to Rochester, Feb. 8.
sand. 168|, April 20. Aug. 12. Nov. SO.
I John Dun ton speaks of College 16'8d.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 175
troop of friars with a cross ; in another a company of chap.
forty girls dressed in white and carrying nosegays. ^^'
Pipers and harpers played " The King shall enjoy his 1689-
own again." The Lord Deputy carried the sword of
state before his master. The Judges, the Heralds, the
Lord Mayor and Aldermen, appeared in aU the pomp
of office. Soldiers were drawn up on the right and left
to keep the passages clear. A procession of twenty
coaches belonging to public functionaries was mustered.
Before the Castle gate, the King was met by the host
imder a canopy borne by four bishops of his church.
At the sight he fell on his knees, and passed some time
in devotion. He then rose and was conducted to the
chapel of his palace, once — such are the vicissitudes of
human things — the riding house of Henry Cromwell.
A Te Deum was performed in honour of his Majesty's
arrival. The next morning he held a Privy Council,
discharged Chief Justice Keating from any further
attendance at the board, ordered Avaux and Bishop
Cartwright to be sworn in, and issued a proclamation
convoking a Parliament to meet at Dublin on the
seventh of May.*
When the news that James had arrived in Ireland pisoontcnt
reached London, the sorrow and alarm were general, and *"^siand.
were mingled with serious discontent. The multitude,
not making sufficient allowance for the difficulties by
which William was encompassed on every side, loudly
blamed his neglect. To aU. the invectives of the ig-
norant and malicious he opposed, as was his wont,
nothing but immutable gravity and the silence of pro-
found disdain. But few minds had received from
nature a temper so firm as his; and still fewer had
undergone so long and so rigorous a discipline. The
reproaches which had no power to shake his fortitude,
tried from childhood upwards by both extremes of
* Clarlee'i Life of James 11., ii. Landing and Reception^ &c. ; Irc-
8S0. ; Full and trae Account of the land's Lamentation.
176 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, fortune, inflicted a deadly wound on a less resolate
L heart.
1689. While all the coffeehouses were unanimously resolv-
ing that a fleet and army ought to have been long
before sent to Dublin, and wondering how so renowned
a politician as his Majesty could have been duped by
Hamilton and Tyrconnel, a gentleman went down to
the Temple Stairs, called a boat, and desired to be
puUed to Greenwich, He took the cover of a letter
from his pocket, scratched a few lines with a pencil, and
laid the paper on the seat with some sUver for his fere.
As the boat passed under the dark central arch of
London Bridge, he sprang into the water and disap-
peared. It was found that he had written these words :
" My foUy in undertaking what I could not execute
hath done the King great prejudice which cannot be
stopped — No easier way for me than this — May his
undertakings prosper — May he have a blessing," There
was no signature ; but the body was soon found, and
proved to be that of John Temple. He was young
and highly accomplished : he was heir to an honour-
able name ; he was united to an amiable woman : he
was possessed of an ample fortune ; and he had in
prospect the greatest honours of the state. It does not
appear that the public had been at all aware to what
an extent he was answerable for the policy which had
brought so much obloquy on the government. The
King, stem as he was, had far too great a heart to
treat an error as a crime. He had just appointed the
unfortunate young man Secretary at War; and the
commission was actually preparing. It is not impro-
bable that the cold magnanimity of the master was
the very thing which made the remorse of the servant
insupportable.*
* Clarendon's Diary ; Reresby's Temple's last words. It agrees in
Memoirs; Narcissus LuttrelFs Diary, substance with Clarendon's, but has
I have followed Luttrell's version of more of the abruptness natural on
WILLIAM AND MARY. 177
But, great as were the vexations which William had chap.
to undergo, those by which the temper of his father-in- L
law was at this time tried were greater still. No court 1689.
in Europe was distracted by more quarrels and in- j^^^i^**
trigues than were to be found within the walls of Dub- Ca^tie.
lin Castle. The numerous petty cabals which sprang
from the cupidity, the jealousy, and the malevolence of
individuals scarcely deserve mention. But there was
one cause of discord which has been too little noticed,
and which is the key to much that has been thought
mysterious in the history of those times.
Between English Jacobitism and Irish Jacobitism
there was nothing in common. The English Jacobite
was animated by a strong enthusiasm for the family
of Stuart; and in his zeal for the interests of that
family he too often forgot the interests of the state.
Victory, peace, prosperity, seemed evils to the stanch
nonjuror of our island if they tended to make usur-
pation popular and permanent. Defeat, bankruptcy,
£Eimine, invasion, were, in his view, public blessings, if
they increased the chance of a restoration. He would
rather have seen his country the last of the nations
under James the Second or James the Third, than the
mistress of the sea, the umpire between contending
]X)tentates, the seat of arts, the hive of industry, under
a prince of the House of Nassau or of Brunswick.
The sentiments of the Irish Jacobite were very dif-
ferent, and, it must in candour be acknowledged, were
of a nobler character. ^ The fallen dynasty was nothing
to him. He had not, like a Cheshire or Shropshire
cavalier, been taught from his cradle to consider loyalty
to that dynasty as the first duty of a Christian and a
gentleman. All his family traditions, all the lessons
taught him by his foster mother and by his priests, had
lach an occtsion. If anything could « The wretched youth against his friend
make to tragical an eyent ridiculous^ exclaiow,
it would be the lamentation of the -^d in despair drowna himself in the
author of the Londeriad : TTiamea."
VOL. ni. N
178 HISTORY OF ENGLAin).
CHAP, been of a very different tendency. He had been bronght
^^^ up to regard the foreign sovereigns of his natiye land
16*89. with the feeling with which the Jew regarded Gsesar,
with which the Scot regarded Edward the First, with
which the Castiliah regarded Joseph Baonaparte, with
which the Pole regards the Autocrat of the Rusedas. It
was the boast of the highborn Milesian that, from the
twelfth century to the seventeenth, every generation of
his family had been in arms against the English crown.
His remote ancestors had contended with Fitzstephen
and De Burgh. His greatgrandfather had cloven down
the soldiers of Elizabeth in the battle of the Blackwater.
His grandfather had conspired with O'Donnel against
James the First. His father had fought under Sir
Phelim O'Neill against Charles the First. The confis-
cation of the family estate had been ratified by an Act
of Charles the Second. No Puritan, who had been
cited before the High Commission by Laud, who had
charged under Cromwell at Naseby, who had been pro-
secuted under the Conventicle Act, and who had been
in hiding on account of the Rye House Plot, bore less
affection to the House of Stuart than the O'Haras and
Macraahons, on whose support the fortunes of that
House now seemed to depend.
The fixed purpose of these men was to break the foreign
yoke, to exterminate the Saxon colony, to sweep away
the Protestant Church, and to restore the soil to its
ancient proprietors. To obtain these ends they would
without the smallest scruple have risen up against
James ; and to obtain these ends they rose up for him.
The Irish Jacobites, therefore, were not at all desirous
that he should again reign at Whitehall : for they could
not but be aware that a Sovereign of Ireland, who was
also Sovereign of England, would not, and, even if he
would, could not, long administer the government of the
smaller and poorer kingdom in direct opposition to the
feeling of the larger and richer. Their real wish was that
WILLIAM AND MARY. 179
the Crowns might be completely separated, and that chap.
their island might, whether under James or without ^^
James they cared little, form a distinct state under i^sg.
the powerful protection of France,
While one party in the Council at Dublin regarded
James merely as a tool to be employed for achieving
the deliverance of Ireland, another party regarded
Ireland merely as a tool to be employed for effecting
the restoration of James. To the English and Scotch
lords and gentlemen who had accompanied him from
Brest, the island in which they sojourned was merely
a stepping stone by which they were to reach Great
Britain. They were still as much exiles as when they
were at Saint Germains ; and indeed they thought Saint
Germains a far more pleasant place of exile than
Dublin Castle. They had no sympathy with the native
population of the remote and half barbarous region
to which a strange chance had led them. Nay, they
were boimd by common extraction and by common
language to that colony which it was the chief object
of the native population to root out. They had in-
deed, like the great body of their countrymen, always
regarded the aboriginal Irish with very unjust con-
tempt, as inferior to other European nations, not only
in acquired knowledge, but in natural intelligence and
courage; as bom Gibeonites who had been liberally
treated, in being permitted to hew wood and to draw
water for a wiser and mightier people. These poli-
ticians also thought, — and here they were undoubtedly
in the right, — that, if their master's object was to
recover the throne of England, it would be madness in
him to give himself up to the guidance of the O's and
the Macs who regarded England with mortal enmity.
A law declaring the crown of Ireland independent, a
law transferring mitres, glebes, and tithes from the
Protestant to the Roman Catholic Church, a law trans-
ferring ten millions of acres from Saxons to Celts,
180 HISTORY OP ENGLAND.
CHAP, would doubtless be loudly applauded in Clare and Tip-
L perary. But what would be the eflfect of such laws at
1689. Westminster? What at Oxford? It would be poor
policy to alienate such men as Clarendon and Beaufort,
Ken and Sherlock, in order to obtain the applause of
the Rapparees of the Bog of Allen.*
Thus the English and Irish factions in the Council
at Dublin were engaged in a dispute which admitted
of no compromise. Avaux meanwhile looked on that
dispute from a point of view entirely his own. His
object was neither the emancipation of Ireland nor the
restoration of James, but the greatness of the French
monarchy. In what way that object might be best
attained was a very complicated problem. Undoubt-
edly a French statesman could not but wish for a
counterrevolution in England. The effect of such a
counterrevolution would be that the power which was
the most formidable enemy of France would became
her firmest aUy, that William would sink into insig-
nificance, and that the European coalition of whidi
he was the chief would be dissolved. But what chance
was there of such a counterrevolution? The English
exiles indeed, after the fashion of exiles, confidently
anticipated a speedy return to their country. James
himself loudly boasted that his subjects on the other
side of the water, though they had been misled for a
moment by the specious names of religion, liberty, and
property, were warmly attached to him, and would
rally round him as soon as he appeared among them.
But the wary envoy tried in vain to discover any
foundation for these hopes. He was certain that they
were not warranted by any intelligence which had
arrived from any part of Great Britain ; and he con-
* Much light is thrown on the loney to Bishop Tyrrel, which will
dispute between the English and be found in the Appendix to Kingfa
Irish parties in James's council, by State of the Protestants,
a remarkable letter of Bishop Ma-
WILLIAM AND MARY. 181
sidered them as the mere daydreams of a feeble mind. ^JA^-
He thought it unlikely that the usurper, whose ability
and resolution he had, during an unintermitted con- ^^^^'
flict of ten years, learned to appreciate, would easily
part with the great prize which had been won by such
strenuous exertions and profound combinations. It
was therefore necessary to consider what arrangements
would be most beneficial to France, on the supposition
that it proved impossible to dislodge William from
England. And it was evident that, if WUliam could
not be dislodged from England, the arrangement most
beneficial to France would be that which had been
contemplated eighteen months before when James had
no prospect of a male heir. Ireland must be severed
from the English crown, purged of the English colo-
nists, reunited to the Church of Rome, placed under
the protection of the House of Bourbon, and made, in
every thing but name, a French province. In war, her
resources would be absolutely at the command of her
Lord Paramount. She would fiimish his army with
recruits. She would furnish his navy with fine har-
bours commanding all the great western outlets of the
English trade. The strong national and religious an-
tipathy with which her aboriginal population regarded
the inhabitants of the neighbouring island would be a
sufiident guarantee for their fidelity to that govern-
ment which could alone protect her against the Saxon.
On the whole, therefore, it appeared to Avaux that,
of the two parties into which the Council at Dublin
was divided, the Irish party was that which it was for
the interest of France to support. He accordingly
connected himself closely with the chiefs of that party,
obtained from them the fullest avowals of aU that they
designed, and was soon able to report to his government
that neither the gentry nor the common people were at
all unwilling to become French.*
* Avaux, '^p^^' 1689, April ^^. But it is less from any single letter.
N S
182 HISTORY OF EKGLAim.
CHAP. The views of Louvois, incomparably the greatest
L statesman that France had produced since RicheUeu,
1689. seem to have entirely agreed with those of Avaux.
The best thing, Louvois wrote, that King James coiQd
do would be to forget that he had reigned in Great
Britain, and to think only of putting Ireland into a
good condition, and of establishing himself firmly there.
Whether this were the true interest of the House of
Stuart may be doubted. But it was undoubtedly the
true interest of the House of Bourbon.*
About the Scotch and English exiles, and especially
about Melfort, Avaux constantly expressed himself
with an asperity hardly to have been expected from a
man of so much sense and experience. Melfort was in
a singularly unfortunate position. He was a renegade :
he was a mortal enemy of the liberties of his country :
he was of a bad and t}Ttinnical nature ; and yet he was,
in some sense, a patriot. The consequence was that
he was more universally detested than any man of
his time. For, while his apostasy and his arbitrary
maxims of government made him the abhorrence of
England and Scotland, his anxiety for the dignity and
integrity of the empire made him the abhorrence of the
Irish and of the French.
The first question to be decided was whether James
should remain at Dublin, or should put himself at the
head of his army in Ulster. On this question the Irish
and British factions joined battle. Reasons of no great
weight were adduced on both sides ; for neither party
ventured to speak out. The point really in issue was
whether the King should be in Irish or in British
hands. If he remained at Dublin, it would be scarcely
than from the whole tendency and est^ Roy d*AngIeterre et d^EsooKei
spirit of the correspondence of Avaux, ne penser qu*^ ce qui peat bonifier
that I have formed my notion of his I'Irlande, et lay faciliter lea moyens
objects. d*y subsister." Loavois to Artux,
* <* Jl faat donc^ oubliant qu il a June •^. l689«
WILLIAM AND ^LiRY. 183
possible for him to withhold his assent from any bill chap.
presented to him by the Parliament which he had sum- L
moned to meet there. He would be forced to plunder, iS^S-
perhaps to attaint, innocent Protestant gentlemen and
clergymen by hundreds ; and he would thus do irre-
parable mischief to his cause on the other side of Saint
George's Channel. If he repaired to Ulster, he would be
within a few hours' sail of Great Britain. As soon as
Londonderry had fallen, and it was universally supposed
that the fall of Londonderry could not be long delayed,
he might cross the sea with part of his forces, and land
in Scotland, where his friends were supposed to be
numerous. When he was once on British ground, and
in the midst of British adherents, it would no longer be
in the power of the Irish to extort his consent to their
schemes of spoliation and revenge.
The discussions in the Council were long and warm. James dc-
Tjnxjonnel, who had just been created a Duke, advised his ^"^ ^ °** ^
master to stay in Dublin. Melfort exhorted his Majesty ^^*®'-
to set out for Ulster. Avaux exerted all his influence
in support of Tyrconnel; but James, whose personal
inclinations were naturally on the British side of the
question, determined to follow the advice of Melfort.*
Avaux was deeply mortified. In his official letters he
expressed with great acrimony his contempt for the
King's character and understanding. On Tyrconnel,
who had said that he despaired of the fortunes of James,
and that the real question was between the King of
France and the Prince of Orange, the ambassador pro-
nounced what was meant to be a warm eulogy, but
may perhaps be more properly called an invective. "If
he were a bom Frenclunan, he could not be more zealous
for the interests of France."! The conduct of Melfort,
on the other hand, was the subject of an invective which
* See ihe deepatchet written by f Avaux, April •^. I689.
Araux during April l689; Light
to the Blind.
N 4
184 HIST0B7 OF ENQLAKD.
CHAP, much resembles eulogy : " He is neither a good Iriah-
^^^ man nor a good Frenchman. All his affections are set
1689. on his own coimtry." *
Journey of Sincc the King was determined to go northward,
uiZl^ Avaux did not choose to be left behind. The royal
party set out, leaving Tyrconnel in charge at Dublin, and
arrived at Charlemont on the thirteenth of April. The
journey was a strange one. The country all along the
road had been completely deserted by the industrious
population, and laid waste by bands of robbers. " This,"
said one of the French officers, " is like travelling through
the deserts of Arabia." f Whatever effects the colonists
had been able to remove were at Londonderry or Ennis-
killen. The rest had been stolen or destroyed. Avaux
informed his court that he had not been able to get one
truss of hay for his horses without sending five or six
miles. No labourer dared bring any thing for sale lest
some marauder should lay hands on it by the way. The
ambassador was put one night into a miserable taproom
full of soldiers smoking, another night into a dismantled
house without windows or shutters to keep out the rain.
At Charlemont a bag of oatmeal was with great diffi-
culty, and as a matter of favour, procured for the French
legation. There was no wheaten bread except at the
table of the King, who had brought a little flour from
Dublin, and to whom Avaux had lent a servant who
knew how to bake. Those who were honoured with an
invitation to the royal table had their bread and wine
measured out to them. Every body else, however high
in rank, ate horsecom, and drank water or detestable
beer, made with oats instead of barley, and flavoured
with some nameless herb as a substitute for hops.J
Yet report said that the country between Charlemont
* Avaux, May j%. I689. Irish beer is taken from a despatch
t Pusignan to Avaux, ^!!-^ ^^^^^ Desgrigny wrote from Cork
' April 9. to LouvoiB, and which as m the
1689. archives of the French War Of-
J This lamentable account of the fice.
WILLIAM AND ^lARY. 185
and Strabane was even more desolate than the country chap.
between Dublin and Charlemont. It was impossible ^"'
to carry a large stock of provisions. The roads were ^Ssg.
so bad, and the horses so weak, that the baggage wag-
gons had all been left far behind. The chief officers of
the army were consequently in want of necessaries; and
the ill humour which was the natural effect of these
privations was increased by the insensibility of James,
who seemed not to be aware that every body about h\m
was not perfectly comfortable.*
On the fourteenth of April the King and his train
proceeded to Omagh. The rain fell : the wind blew :
the horses could scarcely make their way through the
mud, and in the face of the storm; and the road was
frequently intersected by torrents which might almost
be called rivers. The travellers had to pass several
fords where the water was breast high. Some of the
party fainted from fatigue and hunger. All around lay
a frightful wilderness. In a journey of forty miles
Avaux counted only three miserable cabins. Every
thing else was rock, bog, and moor. When at length
the travellers reached Omagh, they found it in ruins.
The Protestants, who were the majority of the inha-
bitants, had abandoned it, leaving not a wisp of straw
nor a cask of liquor. The windows had been broken :
the chimneys had been beaten in : the very locks and
bolts of the doors had been carried away.f
Avaux had never ceased to press the King to return
to Dublin; but these expostulations had hitherto pro-
duced no effect. The obstinacy of James, however, was
an obstinacy which had nothing in common with manly
resolution, and which, though proof to argument, was
easily shaken by caprice. He received at Omagh,
early on the sixteenth of April, letters which alarmed
* AmoL, April 1^. 1689 ; l6S9, and to Louvois, of the same
April i%. date.
f Atiiul to Lewis, April ^f.
186 HISTORY OF EKGLAND.
CHAP. him. He learned that a strong body of Protestants
^^^' was in arms at Strabane, and that English ahips
1689. of war had been seen near the mouth of Lough
Foyle. In one minute three messages were sent to
summon Avaux to the ruinous chamber in which the
royal bed had been prepared. There James, half
dressed, and with the air of a man bewildered by some
great shock, announced his resolution to hasten back
instantly to Dublin. Avaux listened, wondered, and
approved. Melfort seemed prostrated by despair. The
travellers retraced their steps, and, late in the evening,
reached Charlemont. There the King received de-
spatches very different from those which had terrified
him a few hours before. The Protestants who had as-
sembled near Strabane had been attacked by Hamilton.
Under a truehearted leader they would doubtless have
stood their ground. But Lundy, who commanded
them, had told them that all was lost, had ordered
them to shift for themselves, and had set them the
example of flight.* They had accordingly retired in
confusion to Londonderry. The King's correspon-
dents pronounced it to be impossible that London-
derry should hold out. His Majesty had only to
appear before the gates ; and they would instantly fly
open. James now changed his mind again, blamed
liimself for having been persuaded to turn his face
southward, and, though it was late in the evening, called
for his horses. The horses were in miserable plight ;
but, weary and half starved as they were, they were
saddled. Melfort, completely victorious, carried oflF hb
master to the camp. Avaux, after remonstrating to no
purpose, declared that he was resolved to return to
Dublin. It may be suspected that the extreme discom-
fort which he had undergone had something to do with
this resolution. For complaints of that discomfort make
up a large part of his letters; and, in truth, a life passed
♦ Commons' Journals, Aug. 1 2. 1 689 ; Mackenzie's Narrative.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 187
in the palaces of Italy, in the neat parlours and gardens chap.
of Holland, and in the luxurious pavilions which adorned ^'^
the suburbs of Paris, was a bad preparation for the 1689.
ruined hovels of Ulster. He gave, however, to his
master a more weighty reason for refusing to proceed
northward. The journey of James had been undertaken
in opposition to the unanimous sense of the Irish, and
had excited great alarm among them. They appre-
hended that he meant to quit them, and to make a de-
scent on Scotland. They knew that, once landed in
Great Britain, he would have neither the will nor the
power to do those things which tliey most desired.
Avaux, by refusing to proceed further, gave them an
assurance that, whoever might betray them, France
would be their constant friend.*
While Avaux was on his way to Dublin, James
hastened towards Londonderry. He found his army
concentrated a few miles south of the city. The
French generals who had sailed with him from Brest
were in his train ; and two of them, Rosen and Maumont,
were placed over the head of Richard Hamilton'.f
Rosen was a native of Livonia, who had in early youth
become a soldier of fortune, who had fought his way
to distinction, and who, though utterly destitute of
the graces and accomplishments characteristic of the
Court of Versailles, was nevertheless high in favour
there. His temper was savage: his manners were
coarse : his language was a strange jargon compounded
of various dialects of French and German. Even those
who thought best of him, and who maintained that
his rough exterior covered some good qualities, owned
that his looks were against him, and that it would be
unpleasant to meet such a figure in the dusk at the
* Atmix, April |f I689. The 332. Orig. Mem.
•torj of theie strange changes of f Life of James, ii. 33^, 335.
parpoie k tdd Terj diiingenuooalj Orig. Mem.
in the Life of James, iL 350, 331,
188 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, comer of a wood.* The little that is known of Man-
mont is to his honour.
1689. In the camp it was generally expected that London-
ThefaUof deny would fall without a blow. Rosen confidently
dewy^ex- predicted that the mere sight of the Irish army would
P««*®^ terrify the garrison into submission. But Richard
Hamilton, who knew the temper of the colonists better,
had misgivings. The assailants were sure of one im-
portant aUy within the walls. Lundy, the Ck)vemor,
professed the Protestant religion, and had joined in
proclaiming William and Mary; but he was in secret
communication with the enemies of his Church and of
the Sovereigns to whom he had sworn fealty. Some
have suspected that he was a concealed Jacobite, and
that he had affected to acquiesce in the Revolution only
in order that he might be better able to assist in bring-
ing about a Restoration: but it is probable that his
conduct is rather to be attributed to faintheartedness and
poverty of spirit than to zeal for any public cause. He
seems to have thought resistance hopeless; and in truth,
to a military eye, the defences of Londonderry appeared
contemptible. The fortifications consisted of a simple
wall overgrown with grass and weeds : there was no
ditch even before the gates : the drawbridges had long
been neglected: the chains were rusty and could
scarcely be used : the parapets and towers were built
after a fashion which might well move disciples of
Vauban to laughter; and these feeble defences were
on almost every side commanded by heights. Indeed
those who laid out the city had never meant that it
should be able to stand a regular siege, and had con-
tented themselves with throwing up works sufficient to
protect the inhabitants against a tumultuary attack of
* Memoirs of Saint Simon. Some a Marechal de Camp^ which is a
English writers ignorantly speak of very different thing, and had heen
Rosen as haviiig been, at this time, a recently promoted to the rank of
Marshal of France. He did not be- Lieutenant General,
come so till 1703. He had long been
WILLIAM AND MARY. 189
the Celtic peasantry. Avaux assured Louvois that a chap.
single French battalion would easily storm such de-
fences. Even if the place should, notwithstanding all 1689.
disadvantages, be able to repel a large army directed by
the science and experience of generals who had served
under Cond6 and Turenne, hunger must soon bring the
contest to an end. The stock of provisions was small;
and the population had been swollen to seven or eight
times the ordinary number by a multitude of colonists
flying from the rage of the natives.*
Limdy, therefore, from the time when the Irish army
entered Ulster, seems to have given up all thought of
serious resistance. He talked so despondingly that the
citizens and his own soldiers murmured against him.
He seemed, they said, to be bent on discouraging them.
Meanwhile the enemy drew daily nearer and nearer ;
and it was known that James himself was coming to
take the command of his forces.
Just at this moment a glimpse of hope appeared, succonn
On the fourteenth of April ships from England anchored ^^J^!^"
in the bay. They had on board two regiments which
had been sent, under the command of a Colonel named
Cunningham, to reinforce the garrison. Cunningham
and several of his officers went on shore and conferred
with Limdy. Lundy dissuaded them from landing
their men. The place, he said, could not hold out. To
throw more troops into it would therefore be worse than
useless : for the more numerous the garrison, the more
prisoners would fall into the hands of the enemy. The
best thing that the two regiments could do would be
to sail back to England. He meant, he said, to with-
draw himself privately; and the inhabitants must then
try to make good terms for themselves.
* ATiiiZy April ^ l68g. in 1705 for the Duke of Ormond
Among the MS8. in the British hy a French engineer named
Maaeam ia a cmioaa report on the Thomaa.
defenoea of Londonderry, drawn up
190
HISTORY OF ENGLAOT).
CHAP.
XII.
1689.
Treachery
of Lundy.
The in-
habitants
of London-
deny
resolve to
defend
thenutelves.
He went through the form of holding a council of
war ; but from this council he excluded all thom officers
of the garrison whose sentiments he knew to be difterent
from his own. Some, who had ordinarily been sum-
moned on such occasions, and who now came uninvited,
were thrust out of the room. Whatever the Governor
said was echoed by his creatures. Cunningham and
Cunningham's companions could scarcely venture to
oppose their opinion to that of a person whose local
knowledge was necessarily far superior to theirs, and
whom they were by their instructions directed to obey.
One brave soldier murmured. " Understand this," he
said, " to give up Londonderry is to give up Ireland."
But his objections were contemptuously overruled.*
The meeting broke up. Cunningham and his officers
returned to the ships, and made preparations for depart-
ing. Meanwhile Lundy privately sent a messenger to
the head quarters of the enemy, with assurances that
the city should be peaceably surrendered on the first
summons.
But as soon as what had passed in the coimcil of war
was whispered about the streets, the spirit of the soldiers
and citizens swelled up high and fierce against the das-
tardly and perfidious chief who had betrayed them.
Many of his own oflicers declared that they no longer
thought themselves bound to obey him. Voices were
heard threatening, some that his brains should be blown
out, some that he should be hanged on the walls. A
deputation was sent to Cunningham imploring him to
assume the command. He excused himself on the plau-
sible ground that his orders were to take directions in
all things from the Governor, f Meanwhile it was ru-
moured that the persons most in Limdy's confidence
were stealing out of the town one by one. Long after
* Commons* Journals, August 1 2.
1689.
f The best history of these
transactions will be found in the
Journals of the House of Com-
mons, August 12. 1689. See also
the narratives of Walker and Mac-
kenzie.
WILLIAM AND BfARY. 191
dusk on the evening of the seventeenth it was found ^^n^'
that the gates were open and that the keys had disap- 1.
peared. The officers who made the discovery took on ^^^9*
themselves to change the passwords and to double the
guards. The night, however, passed over without any
assault.*
After some anxious hours the day broke. The
Irish, with James at their head, were now within four
miles of the city. A tumultuous council of the chief
inhabitants was called. Some of them vehemently
reproached the Governor to his face with his trea-
chery. He had sold them, they cried, to their dead-
liest enemy : he had refused admission to the force
which good King William had sent to defend them.
While the altercation was at the height, the sentinels
who paced the ramparts announced that the vanguard
of the hostile army was in sight. Lundy had given
orders that there should be no firing ; but his authority
was at end. Two gallant soldiers, Major Henry Baker
and Captain Adam Murray, called the people to arms.
They were assisted by the eloquence of an aged clergy-
man, Gteorge Walker, rector of the parish of Donagh-
more, who had, with many of his neighbours, taken
refuge in Londonderry. The whole of the crowded
city was moved by one impulse. Soldiers, gentlemen,
yeomen, artisans, rushed to the walls and manned the
guns. James, who, confident of success, had approached
within a hundred yards of the southern gate, was re-
ceived with a shout of " No surrender," and with a fire
from the nearest bastion. An officer of his staff fell
dead by his side. The King and his attendants made
all haste to get out of reach of the cannon balls. Lundy,
who was now in imminent danger of being torn limb
from limb by those whom he had betrayed, hid himself
in an inner chamber. There he lay during the day,
and at night, with the generous and politic connivance
* Mackeniie's NarratiTe.
character.
192 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
of Murray and Walker, made his escape in the disguise
of a porter. * The part of the wall from which he let
1689. himself down is still pointed out ; and people still living
talk of having tasted the fruit of a pear tree which as-
sisted him in his descent. His name is, to this day,
held in execration by the Protestants of the North of
Ireland; and his effigy was long, and perhaps stiU is,
annually hung and burned by them with marks of
abhorrence similar to those which in England are ap-
propriated to Guy Faux.
Their^^^^ And uow Londonderry was left destitute of all mili-
tary and of all civil government. No man in the town
had a right to conmiand any other : the defences were
weak : the provisions were scanty : an incensed tyrant
and a great army were at the gates. But within was
that which has often, in desperate extremities, retrieved
the fallen fortunes of nations. Betrayed, deserted, dis-
' organized, unprovided with resources, begirt with ene-
mies, the noble city was stiU no easy conquest. Whatever
an engineer might think of the strength of the ramparte,
all that was most intelligent, most courageous, most
higlispirited among the Englishry of Leinster and of
Northern Ulster was crowded behind them. The num-
ber of men capable of bearing arms within the walls
was seven thousand ; and the whole world could not
have furnished seven thousand men better qualified to
meet a terrible emergency with clear judgment, daunt-
less valour, and stubborn patience. They were all
zealous Protestants ; and the Protestantism of the ma-
jority was tinged with Puritanism. They had much in
common with that sober, resolute, and Godfearing class
out of which Cromwell had formed his unconquerable
army. But the peculiar situation in which they had
been placed had developed in them some qualities which,
in the mother country, might possibly have remained
latent. The English inhabitants of Ireland were an
* Walker and Mackenzie.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 193
aristocratic caste, which had been enabled, by superior chap.
civilisation, by close union, by sleepless vi^lance, by L
cool intrepidity, to keep in subjection a numerous and ^^sg.
hostile population. Almost every one of them had
been in some measure trained both to military and to
political functions. Almost every one was familiar
with the use of arms, and was accustomed to bear a
part in the administration of justice. It was re-
marked by contemporary writers that the colonists
had something of the Castilian haughtiness of manner,
though none of the Castilian indolence, that they
spoke English with remarkable purity and correctness,
and that they were, both as militiamen and as jury-
men, superior to their kindred in the mother coimtry.*
In all ages, men situated as the Anglosaxons in Ire-
land were situated have had peculiar vices and peculiar
virtues, the vices and virtues of masters, as exposed
to the vices and virtues of slaves. The member of a
dominant race is, in his dealings with the subject race,
seldom indeed fraudulent, — for firaud is the resource of
the weak, — but imperious, insolent, and cruel. Towards
his brethren, on the other hand, his conduct is generally
just, kind, and even noble. His selfrespect leads him
to respect all who belong to his own order. His interest
impels him to cultivate a good understanding with those
whose prompt, strenuous, and courageous assistance
may at any moment be necessary to preserve his pro-
perty and life. It is a truth ever present to his mind
that his own weUbeing depends on the ascendency of
the class to which he belongs. His very selfishness
therefore is sublimed into public spirit : and this public
spirit is stimulated to fierce enthusiasm by sympathy, by
the desire of applause, and by the dread of infamy.
For the only opinion which he values is the opinion of
• See the Chtraeter of the Pro- tion of Ireland, I689. The former
teitanti of IreUnd, I6899 and the pamphlet is the work of an enemy.
Interest of Bii£^d in the Preserva- the latter of a zealous friend.
VOL. ni. O
194 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, his fellows ; and in their opinion devotion to the cominon
L cause is the most sacred of duties. The character, thus
1^89. formed, has two aspects. Seen on one side, it must be re-
garded by every well constituted mind with disapproba-
tion. Seen on the other, it irresistibly extorts applause.
The Spartan, smiting and spuming the wretch^ Hdot,
moves our disgust. But the same Spartan, calmly dress-
ing his hair, and uttering his concise jests, on what he
well knows to be his last day, in the pass of ThermopykB,
is not to be contemplated without admiration. To a
superficial observer it may seem strange that so much
evil and so much good should be found together. But
in truth the good and the evil, which at first sight ap-
pear almost incompatible, are closely connected, and have
a common origin. It was because the Spartan had been
taught to revere himself as one of a race of sovereigns,
and to look down on all that was not Spartan as of an
inferior species, that he had no fellow feeling for the
miserable serfs who crouched before him, and that the
thought of submitting to a foreign master, or of taming
his back before an enemy, never, even in the last extre-
mity, crossed his mind. Something of the same charac-
ter, compounded of tyrant and hero, has been found in
all nations which have domineered over more numerous
nations. But it has nowhere in modem Europe shown it-
self so conspicuously as in Ireland. With what contempt,
with what antipathy, the ruling minority in that country
long regarded the subject majority may be best learned
from the hateful laws which, within the memory of men
still living, disgraced the Irish statute book. Those
laws were at length annulled : but the spirit which had
dictated them survived them, and even at this day some-
times breaks out in excesses pernicious to the common-
wealth and dishonourable to the Protestant religion.
Nevertheless it is impossible to deny that the English
colonists have had, with too many of the faults, all the
noblest virtues of a sovereign caste. The faults have.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 195
83 was natural, been most offensively exhibited in times chap.
of prosperity and security : the virtues have been most ^^^
resplendent in times of distress and peril ; and never 168.9.
were those virtues more signally displayed than by the
defenders of Londonderry, when their Governor had
abandoned them, and when the camp of their mortal
enemy was pitched before their walls.
No sooner had the first burst of the rage excited by
the perfidy of Limdy spent itself than those whom he had
betrayed proceeded, with a gravity and prudence worthy
of the most renowned senates, to provide for the order
and defence of the city. Two governors were elected,
Baker and Walker. Baker took the chief military
command. Walker's especial business was to preserve
internal tranquillity, and to dole out supplies from the
magazines.* The inhabitants capable of bearing arms
were distributed into eight regiments. Colonels, cap-
tains, and subordinate ofiicers were appointed. In a
few hours every man knew his post, and was ready to
repair to it as soon as the beat of the drum was heard.
That machinery, by which Oliver had, in the preceding
generation, kept up among his soldiers so stem and so
pertinacious an enthusiasm, was again employed with
not less complete success. Preaching and praying oc-
cupied a large part of every day. Eighteen clergymen
of the Established Church and seven or eight noncon-
formist ministers were within the walls. They all ex-
erted themselves indefatigably to rouse and sustain the
spirit of the people. Among themselves there was for
the time entire harmony. All disputes about church
government, postures, ceremonies, were forgotten. The
Bishop, having found that his lectures on passive obe-
dience were derided even by the Episcopalians, had with-
drawn himself, first to Raphoe, and then to England, and
^ There was afterwards some idle not To me it seems quite dear
dispute about the question whether that he was so.
Walker was properly QoTemor or
o 2
196 lUSTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, was preaching in a chapel in London.* On the other
hand, a Scotch fanatic named Hewson, who had exhorted
1689. the Presbyterians not to ally themselves with such as
refused to subscribe the Covenant, had sunk under the
weU merited disgust and scorn of the whole Protestant
community, f The aspect of the Cathedral was re-
markable. Cannon were planted on the summit of the
broad tower which has since given place to a tower of
diflferent proportions. Ammunition was stored in the
vaults. In the choir the liturgy of the Anglican Church
was read every morning. Every afternoon the Dis-
senters crowded to a simpler worship. J
James had waited twenty four hours, expectiiig, as it
should seem, the performance of Lundy's promises ; and
in twenty four hours the arrangements for the defence
of Londonderry were complete. On the evening of the
nineteenth of April, a trumpeter came to the southern
gate, and asked whether the engagements into which
the Governor had entered would be fulfilled. The an-
swer was that the men who guarded these walls had
nothing to do with the Governor's engagements, and
were determined to resist to the last.
On the following day a messenger of higher rank was
sent, Claude Hamilton, Lord Strabane, one of the few
Roman Catholic peers of Ireland. Murray, who had been
appointed to the command of one of the eight regiments
into which the garrison was distributed, advanced from
the gate to meet the flag of truce ; and a short conference
was held. Strabane had been authorised to make large
promises. The citizens should have a firee pardon for
* Mackenzie's Narrative ; Fune* by the name by which he was known
ral Sermon on Bishop Hopkins^ in Ireland. But his real name wu
1690. Houstoun. He is frequiently men-
j* Walker's True Account^ I689. tioned in the strange Tolame entitled
See also The Apology for the True Faithful Contendings Displayed.
Account, and the Vindication of the :|: A View of the Danger and
True Account, published in the Folly of being publicspiritedy by
same year. I have called this man William Hamill^ 1721.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 197
all that was past if they would submit to their lawful chap
Sovereign. Murray himself should have a colonel's
commission, and a thousand pounds in money. " The ^^^p.
men of Londonderry," answered Murray, " have done
nothing that requires a pardon, and own no Sovereign
but King William and Queen Mary. It will not be safe
for your Lordship to stay longer, or to return on the
same errand. Let me have the honour of seeing you
through the lines."*
James had been assured, and had fully expected, that
the city would yield as soon as it was known that he
was before the walls. Finding himself mistaken, he
broke loose from the control of Melfort, and determined
to return instantly to Dublin. Rosen accompanied the
King. The direction of the siege was intrusted to
Maumont. Richard Hamilton was second, and Pusignan
third, in command.
The operations now commenced in earnest. The London-
besiegers began by battering the town. It was soon sie^*^
on fire in several places. Roofs and upper stories of
houses fell in, and crushed the inmates. During a
short time the garrison, many of whom had never
before seen the effect of a cannonade, seemed to be
discomposed by the crash of chimneys, and by the heaps
of rain mingled with disfigured corpses. But familiarity
with danger and horror produced in a few hours the
natural effect. The spirit of the people rose so high
that their chiefs thought it safe to act on the offensive.
On the twenty first of April a sally was made under
the command of Murray. The Irish stood their ground
resolutely; and a furious and bloody contest took
place. Maumont, at the head of a body of cavalry, flew
to the place where the fight was raging. He was struck
in the head by a musket ball, and fell a corpse. The
besiegers lost several other officers, and about two
hundred men, before the colonists could be driven in.
* See Walker^s Tnie Account and Mackenzie*! Narrative,
o 3
198 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Murray escaped with difficulty. His horse was killed
L under him ; and he was beset by enemies : but he was
1689. able to defend himself till some of his friends made a
rush from the gate to his rescue, with old Walker at
their head.*
In consequence of the death of Maumont, Hamilton
was once more commander of the Irish army. His
exploits in that post did not raise his reputation.
He was a fine gentleman and a brave soldier ; but he
had no pretensions to the character of a great gene-
ral, and had never, in his life, seen a siege.f Pusi-
gnan had more science and energy. But Pusignan
survived Maumont little more than a fortnight. At
four in the morning of the sixth of May, the garrison
made another sally, took several flags, and killed many
of the besiegers. Pusignan, fighting gallantly, was
shot through the body. The wound was one which a
skilful surgeon might have cured : but there was no
such surgeon in the Irish camp ; and the conmiunica-
tion with Dublin was slow and irregular. The poor
Frenchman died, complaining bitterly of the barbarous
ignorance and negligence which had shortened his days.
A medical man, who had been sent down express from
the capital, arrived after the funeral. James, in con-
sequence, as it should seem, of this disaster, established a
daUy post between Dublin Castle and Hamilton's head
* Walker ; Mackenzie ; Avaux, was acted in that jear^ the combat
y ^ f' 1689. There is a tradition between the heroes ia described in
among the Protestants of Ulster these sonorous lines —
that Maumont fell by the sword **They met; and Mondear at the fint
of Murray : but on this point the re- FelT d'^blaspheming, on the dostr
port made by the French ambas. plain,
sador to his master is decisive. The And dying, bit the ground."
truth is that there are almost as f ''Si c'est celuy qui est sorti
many mythical stories about the de France le dernier, qui s*appel-
siege of Londonderry as about the loit Richard, il n'a jamais Teu de
siege of Troy. The legend about siege, ayant toigours servi en Ron-
Murray and Maumont dates from sillon." — Louvois to Avaux, June
1689. In the Royal Voyage, which ^^, I689.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 199
quarters. Even by this conveyance letters did not chap.
travel very expeditiously : for the couriers went on foot ; ^"-
and, from fear probably of the Enniskilleners, took a 1689.
circuitous route from military post to military post.*
May passed away : June arrived; and still London-
derry held out. There had been many sallies and
skirmishes with various success : but, on the whole,
the advantage had been with the garrison. Several
officers of note had been carried prisoners into the
city ; and two French banners, torn after hard fighting
from the besiegers, had been hung as trophies in the
chancel of the Cathedral. It seemed that the siege
must be turned into a blockade. But before the hope
of reducing the town by main force was relinquished,
it was determined to make a great effort. The point
selected for assault was an outwork called Windmill
Hill, which was not far from the southern gate. Re-
ligious stimulants were employed to animate the courage
of the forlorn hope. Many volunteers bound them-
selves by oath to make their way into the works or to
perish in the attempt. Captain Butler, son of the Lord
Mountgarret, imdertook to lead the sworn men to the
attack. On the walls the colonists were drawn up in
three ranks. The office of those who were behind was
to load the muskets of those who were in front. The
Irish came on boldly and with a fearful uproar, but
after long and hard fighting were driven back. The
women of Londonderry were seen amidst the thickest
fire serving out water and ammunition to their husbands
and brothers. In one place, where the waU was only
* Walker ; Mackenzie ; Avaux mont et k M. de Pusignan. II ne
to LouToia, May ^. -^ 1689; faut pas que sa M^jest^ Briuunique
Jamea to Hanulton, J^^, in the "oye qu'en faisant tuer des officiera
librwy of the Royal Irish Academy, generaux comme dea soldats, on
LouToia wrote to ATaux in great puisse ne 1 en point laisaer manquer.
indignation. "La mauTaise con- ^^ «*'^^ ^« g^ns sent rates en
dnite que Ton a tennc devant Lon- ^'^^ P»y»> «* Solvent estre me-
doode^ a eonat^ Urie 4 M. de Mau- "^S^^*
o 4
200 HISTOBY OF ENGLAM).
CHAP, seven feet liigh, Butler and some of his sworn men
L succeeded in reaching the top ; but they were all killed
1689. OY made prisoners. At length, after four hundred of
the Irish had fallen, their chiefs ordered a retreat to be
sounded.*
The siege Nothing was left but to try the effect of hunger. It
BbTockide! ^^ faiowu that the stock of food in the city was bnt
slender. Indeed it was thought strange that the sup-
plies should have held out so long. Every precauticm
was now taken against the introduction of provisions.
All the avenues leading to the city by land were closely
guarded. On the south were encamped, along the left
bank of the Foyle, the horsemen who had followed
Lord Galmoy from the valley of the Barrow. Their
chief was of all the Irish captains the most dreaded and
the most abhorred by the Protestants. For he had
disciplined his men with rare skill and care ; and many
frightful stories were told of his barbarity and perfidy.
Long lines of tents, occupied by the infantry of Butler
and O'Neil, of Lord Slane and Lord Gormanstown,
by Nugent's Westmeath men, by Eustace's Kildare
men, and by Cavanagh's Kerry men, extended north-
ward till they again approached the water side.f The
river was fringed with forts and batteries which no
vessel could pass without great peril. After some time
it was determined to make the security still more com-
plete by throwing a barricade across the stream, about a
mile and a half below the city. Several boats full of
stones were simk. A row of stakes was driven into the
bottom of the river. Large pieces of fir wood, strongly
* Walker ; Mackenzie ; Avaux, printed in 1689^ and in sereral other
June l^, I689. pamphleto of that year. For the dii-
f As to the discipline of Galmoy's trihution of the Irish forces, see the
Horse, see the letter of Avaux to contemporary maps of the siege. A
Louvois^ dated Sept. ^. Horrible catalogue of the regiments, meant, I
stories of the cruelty, both of the suppose, to rival the catslogoe in
colonel and of his men, are told in the Second Book of the Iliad, wiU
the Short View, by a Clergyman, be found in the Londeriad.
WILLIAM AND MAKY. 201
bound together, formed a boom which was more than chap.
a quarter of a mile in length, and which was firmly ^^^
fastened to both shores, by cables a foot thick.* A 1^89
huge stone, to which the cable on the left bank was
attached, was removed many years later, for the purpose
of being polished and shaped into a column. But the
intention was abandoned, and the rugged mass still lies,
not many yards from its original site, amidst the shades
which surround a pleasant country house named Boom
Hall. Hard by is the well from which the besiegers
drank. A little further off is the burial ground where
they laid their slain, and where even in our own time
the spade of the gardener has struck upon many sculls
and tiiighbones at a short distance beneath the turf and
flowers.
While these things were passing in the North, James Naval
was holding his court at Dublin. On his return thither ^^jjjL
from Londonderry he received intelligence that the Baj-
French fleet, commanded by the Count of Chateau
Renaud, had anchored in Bantry Bay, and had put on
shore a large quantity of military stores and a supply of
money. Herbert, who had just been sent to those seas
with an English squadron for the purpose of intercept-
ing the communications between Britanny and Ireland,
learned where the enemy lay, and sailed into the bay
with the intention of giving battle. But the wind was
un£Eivourable to him : his force was greatly inferior to
that which was opposed to him; and after some firing,
which caused no serious loss to either side, he thought
it prudent to stand out to sea, while the French retired
into the recesses of the harbour. He steered for Scilly,
where he expected to find reinforcements; and Chateau
Renaud, content with the credit which he had acquired,
and afinEtid of losing it if he staid, hastened back to
* JAh of Admiral Sir John this hook only fifty copies were
Leake, by Stephen M. Leake, Cla- printed.
rendens King at Arms, 1750. Of
202 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Brest, though earnestly intreated by JameB to come
^^'' round to Dublin.
16*89. Both sides claimed the victory. The Cominons at
Westminster absurdly passed a vote of thanks to He^
bert. James, not less absurdly, ordered bonfires to be
lighted, and a Te Deum to be sung. But these marks
of joy by no means satisfied Avaux, whose national
vanity was too strong even for his characteristic pru-
dence and politeness. He complained that James was
so unjust and ungrateful as to attribute the result of
the late action to the reluctance with which the English
seamen fought against their rightful King and their old
commander, and that his Majesty did not seem to be
well pleased by being told that they were flying over
the ocean pursued by the triumphant French. Dover,
too, was a bad Frenchman. He seemed to take no
pleasure in the defeat of his countrymen, and had
been heard to say that the affair in Bantry Bay did not
deserve to be caUed a battle.*
A pariia- On the day after the Te Deum had been sung at
mentsum- Dublin for this indecisive skirmish, the Parliament
moned by -iiit iiinn i ^
James sits couvokcd by Jamcs assembled. The number of tem-
poral peers of Ireland, when he arrived in that kingdom,
was about a himdred. Of these only fourteen obeyed
his summons. Of the fourteen, ten were Roman Ca-
tholics. By the reversing of old attainders, and by
new creations, seventeen more Lords, all Roman Catho-
lics, were introduced into the Upper House. The Pro-
testant Bishops of Meath, Ossory, Cork, and Limerick,
whether from a sincere conviction that they could not
lawfully withhold their obedience even from a tyrant, or
from a vain hope that the heart even of a tyrant might
be softened by their patience, made their appearance in
the midst of their mortal enemies.
♦ Avaux, May ^. ^^ 1689; ^*y ^^' ^l- ^^"^ *^e Memoirs
London Gazette, May 9.; Life of ®^ Madame de la Fayette it appein
James, ii. 370.; Burchett's Naval ^^*' ^^^ paltry affair was correctly
Transactions; Commons' Journals, appreciated at VeraaUles.
at Dublin.
WILLIAM AND MART, 203
The House of Commons consisted almost exclusively chap.
of Irishmen and Papists. With the writs the returning L
officers had received from Tyrconnel letters naming the 1689.
persons whom he wished to see elected. The largest
constituent bodies in the kingdom were at this time
very small. For scarcely any but Roman Catholics
dared to show their faces ; and the Roman Catholic
freeholders were then very few, not more, it is said,
in some counties, than ten or twelve. Even in cities
so considerable as Cork, Limerick, and Galway, the
number of persons who, under the new Charters, were
entitled to vote did not exceed twenty four. About
two hundred and fifty members took their seats. Of
these only six were Protestants.* The list of the
names sufficiently indicates the religious and political
temper of the assembly. Alone among the Irish par-
liaments of that age, this parliament was filled with
Dermots and Geohagans, O'Neils and O'Donovans,
Macmahons, Macnamaras, and Macgillicuddies. The
lead was taken by a few men whose abilities had been
improved by the study of the law, or by experience
acquired in foreign countries. The Attorney Gene-
ral, Sir Richard Nagle, who represented the county of
Cork, was allowed, even by Protestants, to be an acute
and learned jurist. Francis Plowden, the Commissioner
of Revenue, who sate for Bannow, and acted as chief
minister of finance, was an Englishman, and, as he had
been a principal agent of the Order of Jesuits in money
matters, must be supposed to have been an excellent man
of business-f Colonel Henry Luttrell, member for the
county of Carlow, had served long in France, and had
brought back to his native Ireland a sharpened intellect
and polished manners, a flattering tongue, some skill in
war, and much more skUl in intrigue. His elder brother,
* King^ iiL 12.; Memoirs of j I found proof of Plowden's
IreUnd from the RestoratioD, 171 6. connection with the Jesuits in a
Lists of both Houses will be found Treasury Letterbook^ June 12.
in King's Appendix. 1689.
204 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Colonel Simon Luttrell, who was member for the
county of Dublin, and military governor of the capital,
1^89. had also resided in France, and, though inferior to
Henry in parts and activity, made a highly distin-
guished figure among the adherents of James. The
other member for the county of Dublin was Colonel
Patrick Sarsfield. This gallant officer was regarded b^
the natives as one of themselves : for his ancestors on
the paternal side, though originally English, were among
those early colonists who were proverbially said to have
become more Irish than Irishmen. His mother was
of noble Celtic blood ; and he was firmly attached to the
old religion. He had inherited an estate of about two
thousand a year, and was therefore one of the wealthiest
Boman Catholics in the kingdom. His knowledge of
courts and camps was such as few of his countrymen
possessed. He had long borne a commission in the £ng«
lish Life Guards, had lived much about Whitehall, and
had fought bravely under Monmouth on the Continent,
and against Monmouth at Sedgemoor. He had, Avanx
wrote, more personal influence than any man in Ireland,
and was indeed a gentleman of eminent merit, brave,
upright, honourable, careful of his men in quarters, and
certain to be always found at their head in the day of
battle. His intrepidity, his frankness, his boundless good
nature, his stature, which far exceeded that of ordinary
men, and the strength which he exerted in personal
conflict, gained for him the affectionate admiration of
the populace. It is remarkable that the Englishry ge-
nerally respected him as a valiant, skilful, and generous
enemy, and that, even in the most ribald farces which
were performed by mountebanks in Smithfield, he was
always excepted from the disgraceful imputations which
it was then the fashion to throw on the Irish nation.*
♦ ''Sarsfield," Avaux wrote to Galloway " (Galmoy, I suppose) ** ny
Louvois, Oct. •^. \6S9, " n'est pas de Makarty : mais c'est un gentil-
un homme de la naissance de xnylord homme distingud par son m^rite.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 205
But men like these were rare in tlie House of chap.
Commons which had met at Dublin. It is no reproach ^^^'
to the Irish nation, a nation which has since furnished 1689.
its full proportion of eloquent and accomplished sena-
torS) to say that, of all the parliaments which have met
in the British islands, Barebone's parliament not ex-
cepted, the assembly convoked by James was the most
deficient in all the qualities which a legislature should
possess. The stem domination of a hostile caste had
blighted the faculties of the Irish gentleman. J£ he
was so fortunate as to have lands, he had generally
passed his life on them, shooting, fishing, carousing,
and making love among his vassals. J£ his estate had
been confiscated, he had wandered about from bawn to
bawn and from cabin to cabin, levying small contribu-
tions, and living at the expense of other men. He had
never sate in the House of Commons : he had never
even taken an active part at an election : he had never
been a magistrate : scarcely ever had he been on a
grand jury. He had therefore absolutely no experi-
ence of public affairs. The English squire of that age,
though assuredly not a very profound or enlightened
politician, was a statesman and a philosopher when
compared with the Roman Catholic squire of Munster
or Gonnaught.
The Parliaments of Ireland had then no fixed place
of assembling. Indeed they met so seldom and broke
up so speedily that it would hardly have been worth
while to build and furnish a palace for their special use.
It was not till the Hanoverian dynasty had been long
on the throne, that a senate house which sustains a
CGmparison with the finest compositions of Inigo Jones
qui a plus de cr^it dans oe royaume qui en aura grand soin.*' Leslie^ in
qa'aacaii homme que je connoiste. hisAnswer to King^ says that the Irish
II a de la Taleur, mais surtout de Protestants did justice to Sarsfield's
lliODiieiir et de la prolnt^ k toute integrity and honour. Indeed jus-
^preave • • . homme qui sera tice is done to Sarsfiehi eren in such
toiOoan & la t^te de lei troupes^ et scurrilous pieces as the Royal Flight
206 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, arose in College Green. On the spot where the portico
_^ and dome of the Four Courts now overlook the Lifi^,
1689. stood, in the seventeenth century, an ancient buildi^
which had once been a convent of Dominican frian,
but had since the Reformation been appropriated to the
use of the legal profession, and bore the name of the
King's Inns. There accommodation had been provided
for the parliament. On the seventh of May, James,
dressed in royal robes and wearing a crown, took his
seat on the throne in the House of Lords, and ordered
the Commons to be summoned to the bar.*
He then expressed his gratitude to the natives of
Ireland for having adhered to his cause when the people
of his other kingdoms had deserted him. His resolu-
tion to abolish all religious disabilities in alL his domi-
nions he declared to be unalterable. He invited the
houses to take the Act of Settlement into consideratioii,
and to redress the injuries of which the old proprietors
of the soil had reason to complain. He conduded hy
acknowledging in warm terms his obligations to the
King of France.f
When the royal speech had been pronounced, the
Chancellor directed the Commons to repair to their
chamber and to elect a Speaker. They chose the At-
torney General Nagle ; and the choice was approved by
the King.J
The Commons next passed resolutions expressing
warm gratitude both to James and to Lewis. Indeed
it was proposed to send a deputation with an address to
Avaux; but the Speaker pointed out the gross impro-
priety of such a step ; and, on this occasion, his interfe-
rence was successful. § It was seldom however that the
* Journal of the Parliament in pamphleteer and printed in London.
Ireland, I689. The reader must t Life of James^ ii. 355.
not imagine that this journal has X Journal of the Parliament in
an official character. It is merely Ireland,
a compilation made by a Protestant § Ayauz, HfZlH* I689.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 207
House was disposed to listen to reason. The debates were chap.
all rant and tumult. Judge Daly, a Roman Catholic, but L
an honest and able man, could not refrain from lament- 1689.
ing the indecency and folly with which the members of
Ins Church carried on the work of legislation. Those
gentlemen, he said, were not a Parliament : they were a
mere rabble: they resembled nothing so much as the
mob of fishermen and market gardeners, who, at Naples,
yelled and threw up their caps in honour of Massaniello.
It was painful to hear member after member talking
wild nonsense about his own losses, and clamouring for
an estate, when the lives of all and the independence
of their common country were in peril. These words
were spoken in private ; but some talebearer repeated
them to the Commons. A violent storm broke forth.
Daly was ordered to attend at the bar; and there was
little doubt that he would be severely dealt with. But,
just when he was at the door, one of the members
rushed in, shouting, "Good news : Londonderry is
taken." The whole House rose. All the hats were
flung into the air. Three loud huzzas were raised.
Every heart was softened by the happy tidings. No-
body would hear of punishment at such a moment.
The order for Daly's attendance was discharged amidst
cries of " No submission ; no submission ; we pardon
him." In a few hours it was known that Londonderry
hdd out as obstinately as ever. This transaction, in
itself unimportant, deserves to be recorded, as showing
how destitute that House of Commons was of the qua-
lities which ought to be found in the great council of
a kingdom. And this assembly, without experience,
without gravity, and without temper, was now to legis-
late on questions which would have tasked to the utmost
the capacity of the greatest statesmen.*
* A True Account of tbe Present 1589 ; Letter from Dublin, dated
State of Ireland, by a Person that June 12. 1689; Journal of the
with Orett Difficulty left Dublin^ Parliament in Ireland.
208
HISTOBY OF ENOLAKP.
CHAP.
XII.
1689.
A toler-
ation Act
passed.
Acts
passed for
the confis-
cation of
the pro-
I)erty of
Protes-
tants.
One Act James induced them to pass which would
have been most honourable to him and to them, if there
were not abundant proofs that it was meant to be a dead
letter. It was an Act purporting to grant entire liberty
of conscience to all Christian sects. On this occasion a
proclamation was put forth announcing in boastfiil lan-
guage to the English people that their rightful King
had now signally refuted those slanderers who had ac-
cused him of affecting zeal for religious liberty merely
in order to serve a turn. K he were at heart inclined
to persecution, would he not have persecuted the Irish
Protestants? He did not want power. He did not
want provocation. Yet at Dublin, where the members
of his Church were the majority, as at Westminster,
where they were a minority, he had firmly adhered to
the principles laid down in his much maligned Declara-
tion of Indulgence.* Unfortunately for him, the same
wind which carried his fair professions to England car-
ried thither also evidence that his professions were in-
sincere. A single law, worthy of Turgot or of Franklin,
seemed ludicrously out of place in the midst of a crowd
of laws which would have disgraced Gardiner or Alva.
A necessary preliminary to the vast work of spolia-
tion and slaughter on which the legislators of Dublin
were bent, was an Act annulling the authority which the
English Parliament, both as the supreme legislature and
as the supreme Court of Appeal, had hitherto exercised
over Ireland.f This Act was rapidly passed; and then
followed, in quick succession, confiscations and proscrip-
tions on a gigantic scale. The personal estates of ab-
sentees above the age of seventeen years were transferred
♦ Life of James, ii. 36 1, 362,
363. In the Life it is said that the
proclamation was put forth without
the privity of James, but that he
subsequently approved of it. See
AVelwood's Answer to the Declara-
tion, 1689.
t Light to the Blind; An Act
declaring that the Parliament of
£ngland cannot bind Ireland against
Writs of Error and Appeala, printed
in London, I69O.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 209
to the King. When lay property was thus invaded, it
was not likely that the endowments which had been, in
contravention of every sound principle, lavished on the ^^^9*
Church of the minority would be spared. To reduce those
endowments, without prejudice to existing interests,
would have been a reform worthy of a good prince and
of a good parliament. But no such reform would satisfy
the vindictive bigots who sate at the King's Inns. By
one sweeping Act, the greater part of the tithe was
transferred from the Protestant to the Roman Catholic
clergy ; and the existing incumbents were left, without
one farthing of compensation, to die of hunger.* A
Bill repealing the Act of Settlement and transferring
many thousands of square miles from Saxon to Celtic
landlords was brought in and carried by acclamation.f
Of legislation such as this it is impossible to speak
too severely : but for the legislators there are excuses
which it is the duty of the historian to notice. They
acted unmercifully, unjustly, unwisely. But it would
be absurd to expect mercy, justice, or wisdom from a
class of men first abased by many years of oppression,
and then maddened by the joy of a sudden deliverance,
and armed with irresistible power. The representatives
of the Irish nation were, with few exceptions, rude and
ignorant. They had lived in a state of constant irri-
tation. With aristocratical sentiments they had been
in a servile position. With the highest pride of blood,
they had been exposed to daily afironts, such as might
well have roused the choler of the humblest plebeian.
In sight of the fields and castles which they regarded
as their own, they had been glad to be invited by a
peasant to partake of his whey and his potatoes. Those
violent emotions of hatred and cupidity which the
* An Act concerning Appropriate of Settlement and Explanation, and
Tythes and other Duties payable to all Grants^ Patented and Certificates
Eoclesiastical Dignitaries. Loudon^ pursuant to them or any of them.
It>d0. London^ I69O.
f An Act for repealing the Acts
VOL. in. p
210 HISTORY OF ENGLAKD.
CHAP, situation of the native gentleman could scarcely £eu1
^"' to call forth appeared to him under the specious guise
1689. of patriotism and piety. For his enemies were the
enemies of his nation ; and the same tyranny which
had robbed him of his patrimony had robbed his Church
of vast wealth bestowed on her by the devotion of an
earlier age. How was power likely to be used by an
uneducated and inexperienced man, agitated by strong
desires and resentments which he mistook for sacred
duties? And, when two or three hundred such men
were brought together in one assembly, what was to be
expected but that the passions which each had long
nursed in silence would be at once matured into fearful
vigour by the influence of sympathy?
Between James and his parliament there was little
in common, except hatred of the Protestant religion.
He was an Englishman. Superstition had not utterly
extinguished all national feeling in his mind ; and he
could not but be displeased by the malevolence with
which his Celtic supporters regarded the race from
which he sprang. The range of his intellectual vision
was small. Yet it was impossible that, having reigned
in England, and looking constantly forward to the day
when he should reign in England once more, he should
not take a wider view of politics than was taken by
men who had no objects out of Ireland. The few Irish
Protestants who still adhered to him, and the British
nobles, both Protestant and Roman Catholic, who had
followed him into exile, implored him to restnun the
violence of the rapacious and vindictive senate which
he had convoked. They with peculiar earnestness im-
plored him not to consent to the repeal of the Act of
Settlement. On what security, they asked, could any
man invest his money or give a portion to his children,
if he could not rely on positive laws and on the un-
interrupted possession of many years? The military
adventurers among whom Cromwell portioned out the
WILLIAM AND MARY. 211
soil might perhaps be regarded as wrongdoers. But chap.
how large a part of their estates had passed, by fair ^"'
purchase, into other hands ! How much money had pro- 1689.
prietors borrowed on mortgage, on statute merchant,
on statute staple ! How many capitalists had, trusting
to legislative acts and to royal promises, come over
from England, and bought land in Ulster and Leinster,
without the least misgiving as to the title! What a
sum had those capitalists expended, during a quarter
of a century, in building, draining, inclosing, planting !
The terms of the compromise which Charles the Second
had sanctioned might not be in all respects just. But
was one injustice to be redressed by committing another
injustice more monstrous still? And what effect was
likely to be produced in England by the cry of thousands
of innocent English families whom an English king had
doomed to ruin? The complaints of such a body of
sufferers might delay, might prevent, the Restoration to
which all loyal subjects were eagerly looking forward ;
and, even if his Majesty should, in spite of those com-
plaints, be happily restored, he would to the end of his
life feel the pernicious effects of the injustice which evil
advisers were now urging him to commit. He would
find that, in trying to quiet one set of malecontents, he
had created another. As surely as he yielded to the
clamour raised at Dublin for a repeal of the Act of
Settlement, he would, firom the day on which he re-
turned to Westminster, be assailed by as loud and
pertinacious a clamour for a repeal of that repeal. He
could not but be aware that no English Parliament,
however loyal, would permit such laws as were now
passing through the Insh Parliament to stand. Had
he made up his mind to take the part of Ireland against
the universal sense of England? If so, to what could
he look forward but another banishment and another
deposition? Or would he, when he had recovered the
greater kingdom, revoke the boons by which, in his
p 2
212 HISTOBY OF ENGLAItD.
CHAP, distress, he had purchased the help of the smaller ? It
might seem an insult to him even to suggest that he
1689. could harbour the thought of such unprincely, of such
unmanly, perfidy. Yet what other course would be
left to him ? And was it not better for him to refuse
unreasonable concessions now than to retract those
concessions hereafter in a manner which must bring
on him reproaches insupportable to a noble mind?
His situation was doubtless embarrassing. Yet in this
case, as in other cases, it would be found that the path
of justice was the path of wisdom.*
Though James had, in his speech at the opening of
the session, declared against the Act of Settlement, he
felt that these arguments were unanswerable. He held
several conferences with the leading members of the
House of Commons, and earnestly recommended mo-
deration. But his exhortations irritated the passions
which he wished to allay. Many of the native gentry
held high and violent language. It was impudent, they
said, to talk about the rights of purchasers. How
could right spring out of wrong ? People who chose
to buy property acquired by injustice must take the
consequences of their folly and cupidity. It was clear
that the Lower House was altogether impracticable.
James had, four years before, refused to make the
smallest concession to the most obsequious parliament
that has ever sat in England ; and it might have been
expected that the obstinacy, which he had never wanted
when it was a vice, would not have failed him now when
it would have been a virtue. During a short time he
seemed determined to act justly. He even talked of
dissolving the parliament. The chiefs of the old Cel-
tic families, on the other hand, said publicly that, if he
did not give them back their inheritance, they would
* See the paper delivered to James Both are io King's Appendix. Life
by Chief Justice Keating, and the of James^ ii. 357 — S6U
speech of the Bishop of Meath.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 213
not fight for his. His very soldiers railed on him in chap.
the streets of Dublin. At length he determined to go ^^^
down himself to the House of Peers, not in his robes ^^'W-
and crown, but in the garb in which he had been used
to attend debates at Westminster, and personally to
solicit the Lords to put some check on the violence of
the Commons. But just as he was getting into his coach
for this purpose he was stopped by Avaux. Avaux
was as zealous as any Irishman for the bills which the
Commons were urging forward. It was enough for
him that those bills seemed likely to make the enmity
between England and Ireland irreconcileable. His re-
monstrances induced James to abstain from openly
opposing the repeal of the Act of Settlement. Still the
unfortunate prince continued to cherish some faint hope
that the law for which the Commons were so zealous
would be rejected, or at least modified, by the Peers.
Lord Granard, one of the few Protestant noblemen who
sate in that parliament, exerted himself strenuously on
the side of public faith and sound policy. The King
sent him a message of thanks. "We Protestants,"
said Granard to Powis who brought the message, " are
few in number. We can do little. His Majesty should
try his influence with the Roman Catholics." "His
Majesty," answered Powis with an oath, " dares not say
what he thinks." A few days later James met Granard
riding towards the parliament house. "Where are
you going, my Lord ?" said the King. " To enter my
protest, Sir," answered Granard, " against the repeal of
the Act of Settlement." " You are right," said the
King: "but I am fallen into the hands of people who
will ram that and much more down my throat." *
James yielded to the will of the Commons ; but the
unfavourable impression which his short and feeble
resistance had made upon them was not to be removed
• Leslie's Answer to King ; Avaux, J^; 1689 ; Life of James, ii. 358.
p 3
XDonej.
214 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, by liis submission. They regarded him with profomid
^"' distrust ; they considered him as at heart an finglish-
1689. man; and not a day passed without some indication of
this feeling. They were in no haste to grant him a
supply. One party among them planned an address
urging him to dismiss Melfort as an enemy of their
nation. Another party drew up a biU for deposing all
the Protestant Bishops, even the four who were then
actually sitting in Parliament. It was not without
difficulty that Avaux and Tyrconnel, whose influence
in the Lower House far exceeded the King's, could
restrain the zeal of the majority.*
Issue of It is remarkable that, while the King was losing
^^ the confidence and good will of the Irish Commons
money. ^ o
by faintly defending against them, in one quarter, the
institution of property, he was himself, in another
quarter, attacking that institution with a violence, if
possible, more reckless than theirs. He soon found
that no money came into his Exchequer. The cause
was sufficiently obvious. Trade was at an end. Float-
ing capital had been withdrawn in great masses from
the island. Of the fixed capital much had been de-
stroyed, and the rest was lying idle. Thousands of
those Protestants who were the most industrious and
intelligent part of the population had emigrated to
England. Thousands had taken refuge in the places
which still held out for William and Mary. Of the
Roman Catholic peasantry who were in the vigour of
life the majority had enlisted in the army or had joined
gangs of plunderers. The poverty of the treasury was
the necessary effect of the poverty of the country :
public prosperity could be restored only by the resto-
ration of private prosperity ; and private prosperity
could be restored only by years of peace and security.
♦ Avaux, ^^: 1689, and ^;;|^- ^^^^^ *o the Protestant Bishops
The author of Light to the Blind ^^° adhered to James,
strongly condemns the indulgence
WILLIAM AND MART. 215
James was absurd enough to imagine that there was
a more speedy and efficacious remedy. He could, he
conceived^ at once extricate himself from his financial
difficulties by the simple process of calling a farthing
a shilling. The right of coining was undoubtedly a
flower of the prerogative ; and, in his view, the right
of coining included the right of debasing the coin.
Pots, pans, knockers of doors, pieces of ordnance
which had long been past use, were carried to the mint.
In a short time lumps of base metal, nominally worth
near a million sterling, intrinsically worth about a
sixtieth part of that sum, were in circulation. A
royal edict declared these pieces to be legal tender in
all cases whatever. A mortgage for a thousand pounds
was cleared off by a bag of counters made out of old
kettles. The creditors who complained to the Court of
Chancery were told by Fitton to take their money and
be gone. But of all classes the tradesmen of Dub-
lin, who were generally Protestants, were the greatest
losers. At first, of course, they raised their demands :
but the magistrates of the city took on themselves
to meet this heretical machination by putting forth
a tariff regulating prices. Any man who belonged to
the caste now dominant might walk into a shop, lay on
the counter a bit of brass worth threepence, and carry
off goods to the value of half a guinea. Legal redress
was out of the question. Indeed the sufferers thought
themselves happy if, by the sacrifice of their stock in
trade, they could redeem their limbs and their lives.
There was not a baker's shop in the city round which
twenty or thirty soldiers were not constantly prowling.
Some persons who refused the base money were arrested
by troopers and carried before the Provost Marshal,
who cursed them, swore at them, locked them up in
dark cells, and, by threatening to hang them at their
own doors, soon overcame their resistance. Of all the
plagues of that time none made a deeper or a more
p 4
216 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, lasting impression on the minds of the Protestants of
— L Dublin than the plague of the brass money.* To the
1689. recollection of the confusion and misery which had
been produced by James's coin must be in part ascribed
the strenuous opposition which, thirty five years later,
large classes, firmly attached to the House of Hanover,
offered to the government of George the First in the
affair of Wood's patent.
There can be no question that James, in thus alter-
ing, by his own authority, the terms of all the contracts
in the kingdom, assumed a power which belonged only
to the whole legislature. Yet the Commons did not
remonstrate. There was no power, however unconsti-
tutional, which they were not willing to concede to him,
as long as he used it to crush and plunder the English
population. On the other hand, they respected no pre-
rogative, however ancient, however legitimate, however
salutary, if they apprehended that he might use it to
protect the race which they abhorred. They were not
satisfied tiU they had extorted his reluctant consent to
a portentous law, a law without a parallel in the his-
tory of civilised countries, the great Act of Attainder.
The great A list was framed containing between two and three
u^der.^^ thousand names. At the top was half the peerage of
Ireland. Then came baronets, knights, clergymen,
squires, merchants, yeomen, artisans, women, children.
No investigation was made. Any member who wished
to rid himself of a creditor, a rival, a private enemy,
gave in the name to the clerk at the table, and it was
generally inserted without discussion. The only debate
of which any account has come down to us related to
the Earl of Strafibrd. He had friends in the House
who ventured to offer something in his favour. But a
few words from Simon Luttrell settled tlie question.
♦ King, iii. 11.; Brief Memoirs I have seen several specunens of
by Haynes^ Assay Master of the this coin. The execution is sur-
Mint, among the Lansdowne MSS. prisingly good, all circumstances
at the British Museum^ No. 801. considered.
WILLLVM AND MARY. 217
" I have," he said, " heard the King say some hard chap.
things of that lord." This was thought sufficient, and ^^^'
the name of Strafford stands fifth in the long table 16S9.
of the proscribed.*
Days were fixed before which those whose names
were on the list were required to surrender themselves
to such justice as was then administered to English
Protestants in Dublin. If a proscribed person was in
Ireland, he must surrender himself by the tenth of
August. K he had left Ireland since the fifth of No-
vember 1688, he must surrender himself by the first of
September. If he had left Ireland before the fifth of
November 1688, he must surrender himself by the first
of October. If he failed to appear by the appointed
day, he was to be hanged, drawn, and quartered with-
out a trial, and his property was to be confiscated.
It might be physically impossible for him to deliver
himself up within the time fixed by the Act. He might
be bedridden. He might be in the West Indies. He
might be in prison. Indeed there notoriously were
such cases. Among the attainted Lords was Mount-
joy. He had been induced by the villany of Tyrcon-
nel to trust himself at Saint Germains: he had been
thrown into the Bastile : he was still lying there ; and
the Irish parliament was not ashamed to enact that,
unless he could, within a few weeks, make his escape
from his cell, and present himself at Dublin, he should
be put to death.f
As it was not even pretended that there had been
any inquiry into the guUt of those who were thus pro-
scribed, as not a single one among them had been heard
in his own defence, and as it was certain that it would
be physically impossible for many of them to surrender
themselves in time, it was clear that nothing but a large
* King, iiL 12. Interest of loyal Subjects^ London,
t An Act for the Attainder of I69O.
div^n Rebelt and for preserving the
218 HISTOBY OP ENGLAND.
CHAP, exercise of the royal prerogative of mercy could pre-
vent the perpetration of iniquities so horrible that no
1^89. precedent could be found for them even in the lament-
able history of the troubles of Ireland. The Com-
mons therefore determined that the royal prerogative
of mercy should be limited. Several regulations were
devised for the purpose of making the passing of par-
dons difficult and costly: and finally it was enacted
that every pardon granted by his Majesty, after the end
' of November 1689, to any of the many hundreds of
persons who had been sentenced to death without a
trial, should be absolutely void and of none effect. Sir
Kichard Nagle came in state to the bar of the Lords
and presented the bill with a speech worthy of the occa-
sion. " Many of the persons here attainted^" said he,
" have been proved traitors by such evidence as satisfies
us. As to the rest we have followed common fieune."*
With such reckless barbarity was the list fi:umed that
fanatical royalists, who were, at that very time, hazard-
ing their property, their liberty, their lives, in the cause
of James, were not secure from proscription. The most
learned man of whom the Jacobite party could boast was
Henry Dodwell, Camdenian Professor in the University of
Oxford. In the cause of hereditary monarchy he shrank
from no sacrifice and from no danger. It was about
him that William uttered those memorable words: "He
has set his heart on being a martyr; and I have set
mine on disappointing him." But James was more
cruel to friends than William to foes. Dodwell was a
Protestant : he had some property in Connaught : these
crimes were sufficient ; and he was set down in the long
roll of those who were doomed to the gaUows and the
quartering block.f
* King, ill. 13. the proscribed person must have
f His name is in the first column been some other Henry DodwelL
of page 30. in that edition of the But Bishop Kennet's second letter
List which was licensed March 26. to the Bishop of Carlisle^ 1716,
1690. I should have thought that leaves no doubt about the matter.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 219
That James would give his assent to a bill which chap.
took from him the power of pardoning, seemed to many ^"'
persons impossible. He had, four years before, quar- 1^89.
relied with the most loyal of parliaments rather than
cede a prerogative which did not belong to him. It
might, therefore, well be expected that he would now
have struggled hard to retain a precious prerogative
which had been enjoyed by his predecessors ever since
the origin of the monarchy, and which had never been
questioned by the Whigs. The stem look and raised •
voice with which he had reprimanded the Tory gentle-
men, who, in the language of profound reverence and
fervent afiection, implored him not to dispense with the
laws, would now have been in place. He might also
have seen that the right course was the wise course.
Had he, on this great occasion, had the spirit to
declare that he would not shed the blood of the inno-
cent, and that, even as respected the guUty, he would
not divest himself of the power of tempering judg-
ment with mercy, he would have regained more hearts
in England than he would have lost in Ireland. But
it was ever his fate to resist where he should have
yielded, and to yield where he should have resisted.
The most wicked of all laws received his sanction ; and
it is but a very smaU extenuation of his guilt that his
sanction was somewhat reluctantly given.
That nothing might be wanting to the completeness
of this great crime, extreme care was taken to prevent
the persons who were attainted from knowing that they
wiere attainted, till the day of grace fixed in the Act
was passed. The roll of names was not published, but
kept carefally locked up in Fitton's closet. Some Pro-
testants, who still adhered to the cause of James, but
who were anxious to know whether any of their friends
or relations had been proscribed, tried hard to obtain a
sight of the list ; but solicitation, remonstrance, even
bribery, proved vain. Not a single copy got abroad till
220 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, it was too late for any of the thousands who had been
condemned without a trial to obtain a pardon.*
1689. Towards the close of July James prorogued the
rogSI^ hiT Houses. They had sate more than ten weeks ; and in
parliament that space of time they had proved most fiiUy that, great
as have been the evils which Protestant ascendency has
produced in Ireland, the evils produced by Popish as-
cendency would have been greater still. That the
colonists, when they had won the victory, grossly abused
it, that their legislation was, during many years, unjust
and tyrannical, is most true. But it is not less true
that they never quite came up to the atrocious example
set by their vanquished enemy during his short tenure
of power.
Perseca- Indeed, while James was loudly boasting that he had
i?St«tant8 passed an Act granting entire liberty of conscience to
in Ireland, all sccts, a persecution as cruel as that of Languedoc
was raging through all the provinces which owned his
authority. It was said by those who wished to find an
excuse for him that almost all the Protestants who still
remained in Munster, Connaught, and Leinster were
his enemies, and that it was not as schismatics, but as
rebels in heart, who wanted only opportunity to become
rebels in act, that he gave them up to be oppressed and
despoiled ; and to this excuse some weight might have
been allowed if he had strenuously exerted himself to
protect those few colonists, who, though firmly attached
to the reformed religion, were still true to the doctrines
of nonresistance and of indefeasible hereditary right.
But even these devoted royalists found that their heresy
was in his view a crime for which no services or sacri-
fices would atone. Three or four noblemen, members
* A list of most of the Names of in Dublin, attainted of High Trea-
theNobility,Gentry, and Commonalty son, 1690; An Accoont of the
of £ngland and Ireland (amongst Transactions of the late King James
whom are several Women and Chil- in Ireland^ I69O; King, ill. 13.;
dren) who are all, by an Act of Memoirs of Ireland, 171 6.
a Pretended ParUameut assembled
WILLIAM AND MART. 221
of the Anglican Church, who had welcomed him to Ire- chap.
land, and had sate in his Parliament, represented to L
him that, if the rule which forbade any Protestant to 16^9.
possess any weapon were strictly enforced, their country
houses would be at the mercy of the Rapparees, and
obtained from him permission to keep arms sufficient
for a few servants. But Avaux remonstrated. The
indulgence, he said, was grossly abused : these Protes-
tant lords were not to be trusted : they were turning
their houses into fortresses : his Majesty would soon
have reason to repent his goodness. These represent-
ations prevailed; and Eoman Catholic troops were
quartered in the suspected dwellings.*
Still harder was the lot of those Protestant clergymen
who continued to cling, with desperate fidelity, to the
cause of the Lord's Anointed. Of all the Anglican di-
vines the one who had the largest share of James's good
graces seems to have been Cartwright. Whether Cart-
wright could long have continued to be a favourite
without being an apostate may be doubted. He died
a few weeks after his arrival in Ireland ; and thence-
forward his church had no one to plead her cause.
Nevertheless a few of her prelates and priests continued
for a time to teach what they had taught in the days of
the Exdusion Bill. But it was at the peril of life or
limb that they exercised their functions. Every wearer
of a cassock was a mark for the insults and outrages of
Boldiers and Rapparees. In the country his house was
robbed, and he was fortunate if it was not burned over
his head. He was hunted through the streets of Dub-
lin with cries of " There goes the devil of a heretic."
Sometimes he was knocked down: sometimes he was
cudgelled.f The rulers of the University of Dublin,
trained in the Anglican doctrine of passive obedience,
had greeted James on his first arrival at the Castle, and
• ATauXs £h!l^ 1689. f King's State of the Protestents in
^"^•"- Ireland, iii. I9.
222 lUSTOBT OF ENQLAin).
CHAP, had been assured by him that he would protect them in
^"' the enjoyment of their property and Aeir privileges.
1689. They were now, without any trial, without any accusa-
tion, thrust out of their house. The communion plate of
the chapel, the books in the library, the very chairs and
beds of the collegians were seized. Part of the building
was turned into a magazine, part into a barrack, part
into a prison. Simon Luttrell, who was Governor of the
capital, was, with great difficulty and by powerful in-
tercession, induced to let the ejected fellows and scholars
depart in safety. He at length permitted them t/> re-
main at large, with this condition, that, on pain of death,
no three of them should meet together.* No Protes-
tant divine suffered more hardships than Doctor WiUiam
King, Dean of Saint Patrick's. He had been long distin-
guished by the fervour with which he had inculcated
the duty of passively obeying even the worst rulers.
At a later period, when he had published a defence of
the Revolution, and had accepted a mitre from the new
government, he was reminded that he had invoked the
divine vengeance on the usurpers, and had declared
himself willing to die a hundred deaths rather than
desert the cause of hereditary right. He had said
that the true religion had often been strengthened by
persecution, but could never be strengthened by rebel-
lion ; that it would be a glorious day for the Church of
England when a whole cartload of her ministers should
go to the gallows for the doctrine of nonresistance; and
that his highest ambition was to be one of such a com-
pany.f It is not improbable that, when he spoke thus,
he felt as he spoke. But his principles, though they
might perhaps have held out against the severities and
the promises of William, were not proof against the in-
gratitude of James. Human nature at last asserted
its rights. After King had been repeatedly imprisoned
by the government to wliich he was devotedly attached,
* King's State of the Protestants f Leslie's Answer to King,
in Ireland^ iii. J 5.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 223
after he had been insulted and threatened in his own chap.
choir by the soldiers, after he had been interdicted ^ ^
from burying in his own churchyard, and from preach- I689.
ing in his own pulpit, after he had narrowly escaped
with life from a musketshot fired at him in the street,
he began to think the Whig theory of government less
unreasonable and unchristian than it had once appeared
•to him, and persuaded himself that the oppressed
Church might lawfully accept deliverance, if God should
be pleased, by whatever means, to send it to her.
La no long time it appeared that James would have Effect pro-
done well to hearken to those counsellors who had told In^dby
him that the acts by which he was trying to make him- ^^^^
self popular in one of his three kingdoms, would make land.
him odious in the others. It was in some sense fortunate
for England that, after he had ceased to reign here, he
continued during more than a year to reign in Ireland.
The Revolution had been followed by a reaction of
public feeling in his favour. That reaction, if it had been
Bufiered to proceed uninterrupted^ might perhaps not
have ceased till he was again King : but it was violently
interrupted by himself. He would not suffer his people
to forget: he would not suffer them to hope: while
they were trying to find excuses for his past errors,
and to persuade themselves that he would not repeat
these errors, he forced upon them, in their own despite,
the conviction that he was incorrigible, that the sharpest
discipline of adversity had taught him nothing, and
that, if they were weak enough to recall him, they would
soon have to depose him again. It was in vain that
the Jacobites put forth pamphlets about the cruelty
with which he had been treated by those who were
nearest to him in blood, about the imperious temper
and uncourteous maimers of William, about the favour
shown to the Dutch, about the heavy taxes, about the
suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act, about the dan-
gers which threatened the Church from the enmity of
224 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Puritans and Latitudinarians. James refuted these
. — L pamphlets far more effectually than all the ablest and
i6'8y. jj^^g^ eloquent Whig writers united could have done.
Every week came the news that he had passed some
new Act for robbing or murdering Protestants. Every
colonist who succeeded in stealing across the sea from
Leinster to Holyhead or Bristol, brought fearful reports
of the tyranny under which his brethren groaned.
What impression these reports made on the Protestants
of our island may be easily inferred from the tact that
they moved the indignation of Eonquillo, a Spaniard
and a bigoted member of the Church of Rome. He in-
formed his Court that, though the English laws against
Popery might seem severe, they were so much mitigated
by the prudence and humanity of the Grovemment, that
they caused no annoyance to quiet people; and he took
upon himself to assure the Holy See that what a Ro-
man Catholic suffered in London was nothing when
compared with what a Protestant suffered in Ireland.*
The fugitive Englishry found in England warm sym-
pathy and munificent reUef. Many were received into
the houses of friends and kinsmen. Many were in-
debted for the means of subsistence to the liberality of
strangers. Among those who bore a part in this work
of mercy, none contributed more largely or less osten-
tatiously than the Queen. The House of Commons
placed at the King's disposal fifteen thousand poimds for
the relief of those refugees whose wants were most press-
ing, and requested him to give commissions in the army
to those who were qualified for military employment.f
An Act was also passed enabling beneficed clergymen
who had fled from Ireland to hold preferment in Eng-
land. J Yet the interest which the nation felt in these
* ** £n comparazion de lo que se que los Protestantes in Irlanda."
hace in Irlanda con los Protestantes, June ^^.
es nada." !^ 1689; "Para que icJj)^*""""*""' ^'^"^^ "^""^ '^'
vea Su Santitad que aqui estan los j: Stat. 1 W. & M. seas. 1 . c. 29.
Catolicos mas benignaniente tratadoij
WILLIAM AND MARY. 225
tLiifortunate guests was languid when compared with chap.
the interest excited by that portion of the Saxon colony ^^
which still maintained in Ulster a desperate conflict 1689.
against overwhelming odds. On this subject scarcely
one dissentient voice was to be heard in our island.
Whigs, Tories, nay even those Jacobites in whom Jaco-
bitism had not extinguished every patriotic sentiment,
gloried in the glory of Enniskillen and Londonderry.
The House of Conmions was all of one mind. " This
is no time to be counting cost," said honest Birch,
who well remembered the way in which Oliver had
made war on the Irish. " Are those brave fellows in
Londonderry to be deserted ? K we lose them will
not all the world cry shame upon us ? A boom across
the river ! Why have we not cut the boom in pieces ?
Are our brethren to perish almost in sight of Eng-
land, within a few hours' voyage of our shores?"*
Howe, the most vehement man of one party, declared
that the hearts of the people were set on Ireland.
Seymour, the leader of the other party, declared that,
though he had not taken part in setting up the new
government, he should cordially support it in all that
might be necessary for the preservation of Ireland, f
The Commons appointed a committee to enquire into
the cause of the delays and miscarriages which had
been all but fatal to the Englishry of Ulster. The offi-
cers to whose treachery or cowardice the public ascribed
the calamities of Londonderry were put under arrest.
Lundy was sent to the Tower, Cunningham to the Gate
House. The agitation of the public mind was in some
degree calmed by the announcement that, before the end
of the summer, an army powerful enough to reestablish
the English ascendency in Ireland would be sent across
Saint George's Channel, and that Schomberg would be
the Generfd. In the meantime an expedition which
• Gre/f Debates, June 19* I689. f I^^^ <^ane 22. I689.
VOL. m. Q
226 mSTOBY OF enolasd.
CHAP, was thought to be sufficient for the relief of LondonderTy
^^ was despatched from Liverpool under the command irf
1689. Kirke. The dogged obstinacy with which this man had,
in spite of royal solicitations, adhered to his religion,
and the part which he had taken in the Revolution, had
perhaps entitled him to an amnesty for past crimes.
But it is difficult to understand why the Grovemment
should have selected for a post of the highest importance
an officer who was generally and justly hated, who had
never shown eminent talents for war, and who, both
in Africa and in England, had notoriously tolerated
among his soldiers a licentiousness, not only shocking to
humanity, but also incompatible with discipline.
Ae^En'-^^ On the sixteenth of May, Kirke's troops embarked :
kiiieners. ou the twenty second they sailed : but contrary winds
made the passage slow, and forced the armament to
stop long at the Isle of Man. Meanwhile the Protes-
tants of Ulster were defending themselves with stubborn
courage against a great superiority of force. The En-
niskilleners had never ceased to wage a vigorous partisan
war against the native population. Early in May they
marched to encounter a large body of troops from Con-
naught, who had made an inroad into Donegal. The
Irish were speedily routed, and fled to Sligo with the
loss of a hundred and twenty men killed and sixty
taken. Two small pieces of artillery and several horses
fell into the hands of the conquerors. Elated by this
success, the Enniskilleners soon invaded the county of
Cavan, drove before them fifteen hundred of James's
troops, took and destroyed the castle of Ballincarrig,
reputed the strongest in that part of the kingdom, and
carried off the pikes and muskets of the garrison. The
next incursion was into Meath. Three thousand oxen
and two thousand sheep were swept away and brought
safe to the little island in Lough Erne. These daring
exploits spread terror even to the gates of Dublin.
Colonel Hugh Sutherland was ordered to march against
WILLIAM AND MARY. 227
Enniskillen with a re^ment of dragoons and two regi- chap.
ments of foot. He carried with him arms for the native ^^^
peasantry; and many repaired to his standard. The i^«9.
Enniskilleners did not wait till he came into their
neighbourhood, but advanced to encounter him. He
declined an action, and retreated, leaving his stores at
Belturbet under the care of a detachment of three hun-
dred soldiers. The Protestants attacked Belturbet ^vith
vigour, made their way into a lofty house which over-
looked the town, and thence opened such a fire that in
two hours the garrison surrendered. Seven hundred
muskets, a great quantity of powder, many horses,
many sacks of biscuits, many barrels of meal, were
taken, and were sent to Enniskillen. The boats which
brought these precious spoils were joyfully welcomed.
The fear of hunger was removed. While the aboriginal
population had, in many counties, altogether neglected
the cultivation of the earth, in the expectation, it should
seem, that marauding would prove an inexhaustible re-
source, the colonists, true to the provident and indus-
trious character of their race, had, in the midst of war,
not omitted carefully to till the soil in the neighbour-
hood of their strongholds. The harvest was now not
fiur remote ; and^ till the harvest, the food taken from
the enemy would be amply sufficient.*
Yet^ in the midst of success and plenty, the Ennis- Distress of
killeners were tortured by a cruel anxiety for London- deny!"
derry. They were bound to the defenders of that city,
not only by religious and national sympathy, but by
common interest. For there could be no doubt that, if
Londonderry fell, the whole Irish army would instantly
march in irresistible force upon Lough Erne. Yet
what could be done ? Some brave men were for making
* Hamilton's True Relation ; cy, les paysans ayant presqne tons
Mac Cormick's Further Account, pris lea armes." — Letter to Louvois,
Of the island generally^ Avaux says, March ^. I689.
*' On n'attend n&a. de cette recolte
Q 2
228 HISTOBT OF ENGLAin).
CHAP, a desperate attempt to relieve the besieged city ; but
^^^ the odds were too great. Detachments however were
1689. sent which infested the rear of the blockading army,
cut off supplies, and, on one occasion, carried away the
horses of three entire troops of cavalry.* Still the line
of posts which surrounded Londonderry by land re-
mained unbroken. The river was still strictly closed
and guarded. Within the walls the distress had become
extreme. So early as the eighth of June horseflesh
was almost the only meat which could be purchased ;
and of horseflesh the supply was scanty. It was neces-
sary to make up the deficiency with tallow ; and even
tallow was doled out with a parsimonious hand.
Expedition On the fifteenth of June a gleam of hope appeared.
Srke ar- ^^^ scntiuels ou the top of the Cathedral saw sails nine
V^^^ miles off in the bay of Lough Foyle. Thirty vessels of
Foyie. dififerent sizes were counted. Signals were made from
the steeples and returned from the mast heads, but were
imperfectly understood on both sides. At last a mes-
senger from the fleet eluded the Irish sentinels, dived
under the boom, and informed the garrison that Kirke
had arrived from England with troops, arms, ammuni-
tion, and provisions, to relieve the city.f
In Londonderry expectation was at the height : but
a few hours of feverish joy were followed by weeks of
misery. Earke thought it unsafe to make any attempt,
either by land or by water, on the lines of the besiegers,
and retired to the entrance of Lough Foyle, where,
during several weeks, he lay inactive.
And now the pressure of famine became every day
more severe. A strict search was made in all the recesses
of all the houses of the city ; and some provisions, which
had been concealed in cellars by people who had since
died or made their escape, were discovered and carried
to the magazines. The stock of cannon balls was almost
* Hamilton's True Relation. f WaUcer*
WILLIAM AND MARY. 229
exhausted ; and their place was supplied by brickbats chap.
coated with lead. Pestilence began, as usual, to make
its appearance in the train of hunger. Fifteen officers I689.
died of fever in one day. The Governor Baker was
among those who sank under the disease. His place
was supplied by Colonel John Mitchelbume.*
Meanwhile it was known at Dublin that Kirke and
his squadron were on the coast of Ulster. The alarm
was great at the Castle. Even before this news arrived,
Avaux had given it as his opinion that Richard Hamil-
ton was unequal to the difficulties of the situation. It
had therefore been resolved that Rosen should take the
chief command. He was now sent down with all speed.f
On the nineteenth of June he arrived at the head oaeityof
quarters of the besieging army. At first he attempted ^^^**°"
to undermine the walls ; but his plan was discovered ;
and he was compelled to abandon it after a sharp fight,
in which more than a hundred of his men were slain.
Then his ftuy rose to a strange pitch. He, an old
soldier, a Marshal of France in expectancy, trained in
the school of the greatest generals, accustomed, during
many years, to scientific war, to be baffled by a mob of
country gentlemen, farmers, shopkeepers, who were pro-
tected only by a wall which any good engineer would
at once have pronounced untenable ! He raved, he
blasphemed, in a language of his own, made up of all
the dialects spoken from the Baltic to the Atlantic.
He would raze the city to the ground : he would spare
no living thing ; no, not the young girls ; not the babies
at the breast. As to the leaders, death was too light
a punishment for them : he would rack them : he
would roast them alive. In his rage he ordered a shell
to be flung into the town with a letter containing a hor-
rible menace. He would, he said, gather into one body
all the Protestants who had remained at their homes
between Charlemont and the sea, old men, women,
• Walker; Mackenzie. f Avaux, June ^. 1689.
q3
230 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, children, many of them near in blood and affection to
. ^!l the defenders of Londonderry. No protection, what-
1689. ever might be the authority by which it had been given,
should be respected. The multitude thus brought to-
gether should be driven under the walls of Londonderry,
and should there be starved to death in the sight of
their countrymen, their friends, their kinsmen. This
was no idle threat. Parties were instantly sent out in
all directions to collect victims. At dawn, on the morn-
ing of the second of July, hundreds of Protestants,
who were charged with no crime, who were incapable
of bearing arms, and many of whom had protections
granted by James, were dragged to the gates of the
city. It was imagined that the piteous sight would
quell the spirit of the colonists. But the only effect
was to rouse that spirit to still greater energy. An
order was immediately put forth that no man should
utter the word Surrender on pain of death ; and no man
uttered that word. Several prisoners of high rank were
in the town. Hitherto they had been well treated, and
had received as good rations as were measured out to the
garrison. They were now closely confined. A gallows
was erected on one of the bastions ; and a message was
conveyed to Rosen, requesting him to send a confessor
instantly to prepare his friends for death. The prisoners
in great dismay wrote to the savage Livonian, but re-
ceived no answer. They then addressed themselves to
their countryman, Richard Hamilton. They were will-
ing, they said, to shed their blood for their King ; but
they thought it hard to die the ignominious death of
thieves in consequence of the barbarity of their own
companions in arms. Hamilton, though a man of lax
principles, was not cruel. He had been disgusted by
the inhimianity of Rosen, but, being only second in com-
mand, could not venture to express publicly all that he
thought. He however remonstrated strongly. Some Irish
officers felt on this occasion as it was natural that brave
WILLIAM AND MARY. 231
men should feel, and declared, weeping with pity and chap.
indignation, that they should never cease to have in their ^^
ears the cries of the poor women and children who had 1689.
been driven at the point of the pike to die of famine
between the camp and the city. Rosen persisted during
forty eight hours. In that time many unhappy crea-
tures perished : but Londonderry held out as resolutely
as ever ; and he saw that his crime was likely to pro-
duce nothing but hatred and obloquy. He at length
gave way, and suffered the survivors to withdraw. The
garrison then took down the gallows which had been
erected on the bastion.*
When the tidings of these events reached Dublin,
James, though by no means prone to compassion, was
startled by an atrocity of which the civil wars of
England had furnished no example, and was displeased
by learning that protections, given by his authority,
and guaranteed by his honour, had been publicly de-
clared to be nullities. He complained to the French
ambassador, and said, with a warmth which the occasion
folly justified, that Rosen was a barbarous Muscovite.
MeUbrt could not refrain from adding that, if Rosen
had been an Englishman, he would have been hanged.
Avaux was utterly unable to understand this effemi-
nate sensibility. In his opinion, nothing had been
done that was at all reprehensible ; and he had some
difficulty in commanding himself when he heard the
King and the secretary blame, in strong language, an
act of wholesome severity.f In truth the French
ambassador and the French general were well paired.
There was a great difference doubtless, in appearance
and manner, between the handsome, graceful, and
•Walker; Mackenzie; Light t Leslie's Answer to King; Avaux,
to the Blind; King, iii. 13.; July -r'^. 1 689. " Je trouvay I'ex-
LctUc^a Answer to King ; Life of pression bien forte : mais je ne vou-
Jamei, ii. 366, I ought to say lois rien r^pondre, car le Roy s'estoit
that on this occasion King is unjust desja fort emport^"
to Jamei.
Q 4
23? HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
0
CHAP, refined diplomatist, whose dexterity and suavity had
^"' been renowned at the most polite courts of Europe,
1689. and the military adventurer, whose look and voice
reminded all who came near him that he had been
born in a half savage country, that he had risen from
the ranks, and that he had once been sentenced to
death for marauding. But the heart of the courtier
was really even more callous than that of the soldier.
Rosen was recalled to Dublin ; and Richard Hamil-
ton was again left in the chief command. He tried
gentler means than those which had brought so much
reproach on his predecessor. No trick, no lie, which
was thought likely to discourage the starving garrison
was spared. One day a great shout was raised by the
whole Irish camp. The defenders of Londonderry were
soon informed that the army of James was rejoicing on
account of the fall of Enniskillen. They were told that
they had now no chance of being relieved, and were ex-
horted to save their lives by capitulating. They con-
sented to negotiate. But what they asked was, that
they should be permitted to depart armed and in mili-
tary array, by land or by water at their choice. They
demanded hostages for the exact fulfihnent of these
conditions, and insisted that the hostages should be sent
on board of the fleet which lay in Lough Foyle. Such
terms Hamilton durst not grant : the Governors would
abate nothing: the treaty was broken off; and the con-
flict reconmienced.*
The famine By this time July was far advanced; and the
d°rry°ex°" statc of the city was, hour by hour, becoming more
treme. frightful. The nimiber of the inhabitants had been
thinned more by famine and disease than by the fire
of the enemy. Yet that fire was sharper and more
constant than ever. One of the gates was beaten
in : one of the bastions was laid in ruins ; but the
breaches made by day were repaired by night with
* Mackenzie.
WILLIAM AND MAliY. 233
indefatigable activity. Every attack was still repelled, chap.
But the fighting men of the garrison were so much ^^
exhausted that they could scarcely keep their legs. 1689.
Several of them, in the act of striking at the enemy, fell
down from mere weakness. A very small quantity of
grain remained, and was doled out by mouthfuls. The
stock of salted hides was considerable, and by gnawing
them the garrison appeased the rage of hunger. Dogs,
fattened on the blood of the slain who lay unburied
round the town, were luxuries which few could afford
to purchase. The price of a whelp's paw was five
shillings and sixpence. Nine horses were still alive,
and but barely alive. They were so lean that little
meat was likely to be found upon them. It was,
however, determined to slaughter them for food. The
people perished so fast that it was impossible for the
survivors to perform the rites of sepulture. Thei-e
was scarcely a cellar in which some corpse was not
deca3dng. Such was the extremity of distress, that the
rats who came to feast in those hideous dens were
eagerly hunted and greedily devoured. A small fish,
caught in the river, was not to be purchased with
money. The only price for which such a treasure
could be obtained was some handfuls of oatmeal. Le-
prosies, such as strange and unwholesome diet engen-
ders, made existence a constant torment. The whole
city was poisoned by the stench exhaled from the bo-
dies of the dead and of the half dead. That there
should be fits of discontent and insubordination among
men enduring such misery was inevitable. At one
moment it was suspected that Walker had laid up
somewhere a secret store of food, and was revelling in
private, while he exhorted others to suffer resolutely
for the good cause. His house was strictly examined :
his innocence was fully proved : he regained his popu-
larity ; and the garrison, with death in near prospect,
thronged to the cathedral to hear him preach, drank
236 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, were most numerous. Leake performed Ids duty with
a skill and spirit worthy of his noble profession, exposed
1689. his frigate to cover the merchantmen, and used his guns
with great effect. At length the little squadron came
to the place of peril. Then the Mountjoy took the
lead, and went right at the boom. The huge barricade
cracked and gave way: but the shock was such that
the Mountjoy rebounded, and stuck in the mud. A
yell of triumph rose from the banks : the Irish rushed
to their boats, and were preparing to board ; but the
Dartmouth poured on them a well directed broadside,
which threw them into disorder. Just then the Phoenix
dashed at the breach which the Moimtjoy had made,
and was in a moment within the fence. Meantime the
tide was rising fast. The Mountjoy began to move,
and soon passed safe through the broken stakes and
floating spars. But her brave master was no more.
A shot from one of the batteries had struck him ; and
he died by the most enviable of all deaths, in sight of
the city which was his birthplace, which was his home,
and which had just been saved by his courage and
self-devotion from the most frightful form of destruc-
tion. The night had closed in before the conflict at
the boom began ; but the flash of the guns was seen,
and the noise heard, by the lean and ghastly multitude
which covered the walls of the city. When the Mount-
joy grounded, and when the shout of triumph rose from
the Irish on both sides of the river, the hearts of the
besieged died within them. One who endured the
unutterable anguish of that moment has told us that
they looked fearfully livid in each other's eyes. Even
after the barricade had been passed, there was a ter-
rible half hour of suspense. It was ten o'clock before
the ships arrived at the quay. The whole popula-
tion was there to welcome them. A screen made of
casks filled with earth was hastily thrown up to pro-
tect the landing place from the batteries on the other
WILLIAM AND MARY, 237
side of the river; and then the work of unloading chap.
began. First were rolled on shore barrels contain- ^"'
ing six thousand bushels of meal. Then came great 1689.
cheeses, casks of beef, flitches of bacon, kegs of butter,
sacks of pease and biscuit, ankers of brandy. Not
many hours before, half a poimd of tallow and three
quarters of a pound of salted hide had been weighed
out with niggardly care to every fighting man. The
ration which each now received was three pounds of
flour, two pounds of beef, and a pint of pease. It is
easy to imagine with what tears grace was said over the
suppers of that evening. There was little sleep on
either side of the wall. The bonfires shone bright along
the whole circuit of the ramparts. The Irish guns
continued to roar all night; and all night the bells of
the rescued city made answer to the Irish guns with a
peal of joyous defiance. Through the whole of the
thirty first of July the batteries of the enemy continued
to play. But, soon after the sun had again gone
down, flames were seen arising from the camp; and,
when the first of August dawned, a line of smoking
rains marked the site lately occupied by the huts of
the besiegers; and the citizens saw far off the long
column of pikes and standards retreating up the left
bank of the Foyle towards Strabane.*
So ended this great siege, the most memorable in the The siege
annals of the British isles. It had lasted a hundred 2eJ^°^^"-
and five days. The garrison had been reduced from "»«^
about seven thousand effective men to about three
thousand. The loss of the besiegers cannot be precisely
ascertained. Walker estimated it at eight thousand
men. It is certain from the despatches of Avaux that
the regiments which returned from the blockade had
* Walker ; Mackeniie ; Histoire Sir John Leake ; The Londcriad ;
de la lUvoladon d*Iriande, Am- Observations on Mr. Walker's Ac-
•terdam^ iGQl ; London Crazette, count of the Siege of Londonderry,
Aug. ^ I6S9 ; Letter of Buchan licensed Oct« 4. I689.
auMmg the Naime MSS. ; Life of
238 HISTORY OF ENQLAKD.
CHAP, been so much thinned that many of them were not
XIT
more than two hundred strong. Of thirty six French
1689. gunners who had superintended the cannonading,
thirty one had been killed or disabled.* The means
both of attack and of defence had undoubtedly been
such as would have moved the great warriors of the
Continent to laughter ; and this is the very circum-
stance which gives so peculiar an interest to the history
of the contest. It was a contest, not between engineers,
but between nations; and the victory remained with
the nation which, though inferior in number, was supe-
rior in civilisation, in capacity for selfgovemment, and
in stubbornness of resolution.f
As soon as it was known that the Irish army had
retired, a deputation from the city hastened to Lough
Foyle, and invited Kirke to take the command. He
came accompanied by a long train of officers, and was
received in state by the two Governors, who delivered
up to him the authority which, under the pressure of
necessity, they had assiuned. He remained only a few
days ; but he had time to show enough of the incurable
vices of his character to disgust a population distin-
guished by austere morals and ardent public spirit.
There was, however, no outbreak. The city was in the
highest good himiour. Such quantities of provisions
had been landed from the fleet, that there was in every
house a plenty never before known. A few days earUer
a man had been glad to obtain for twenty pence a
mouthful of carrion scraped from the bones of a starved
horse. A pound of good beef was now sold for three
* Avaux to Seignelay, July ^|. ; would never have been broken if
to Lewis, Aug. ^ they had done their duty. Were
f " You will see here, as you they drunk ? Were they traitors ?
have all along, that the tradesmen of He does not determine the point
Londonderry had more skill in their " Lord," he exclaims, " who aeest
defence than the great officers of the the hearts of people, we leave the
Irish army in their attacks." — Light judgment of this affair to thy mer-
to the BUnd. The author of this cy. In the interim those gunners
work is furious against the Irish lost Ireland."
gunners. The boom, he thinks,
WILLIAM AND MABY. 289
hal^nce. Meanwhile all hands were busied in re- chap.
moving corpses which had been thinjy covered with ^^^
earth, in filling up the holes which the shells had 1689.
ploughed in the ground, and in repairing the battered
roofs of the houses. The recollection of past dangers
and privations, and the consciousness of having de-
served well of the English nation and of all Protest-
ant Churches, swelled the hearts of the townspeople
with honest pride. That pride grew stronger when
they received from William a letter acknowledging, in
the most affectionate language, the debt which he owed
to the brave and trusty citizens of his good city. The
whole population crowded to the Diamond to hear the
royal epistle read. At the close all the guns on the
ramparts sent forth a voice of joy : all the ships in
the river made answer: barrels of ale were broken
up ; and the health of their Majesties was drunk with
shouts and volleys of musketry.
Five generations have since passed away; and still
the wall of Londonderry is to the Protestants of Ulster
what the trophy of Marathon was to the Athenians.
A lofty pillar, rising from a bastion which bore during
many weeks the heaviest fire of the enemy, is seen far
up and fiw down the Foyle. On the summit is the statue
of Walker, such as when, in the last and most terrible
emergency, his eloquence roused the fainting courage
of his brethren. Li one hand he grasps a Bible. The
other, pointing down the river, seems to direct the eyes
of his famished audience to the English topmasts in the
distant bay. Such a monument was well deserved : yet
it was scarcely needed : for in truth the whole city is to
this day a monument of the great deliverance. The wall
is carefully preserved; nor would any plea of health or
convenience be held by the inhabitants sufficient to jus-
tify the demolition of that sacred enclosure which, in the
evil time, gave shelter to their race and their religion.*
• In « collection entitled " Der- than sixty years ago, is a curious
liana," which was published more letter on this subject
240 HISTORY OP ENGLAND.
CHAP. The summit of the ramparts fonns a pleasant walk.
L The bastions have been turned into little gardens.
1689. Here and there, among the shrubs and flowers, may be
seen the old culverins which scattered bricks, cased
with lead, among the Irish ranks. One antique gun,
the gift of the Fishmongers of London, was distin-
guished, during the himdred and five memorable days,
by the loudness of its report, and still bears the name oif
Roaring Meg. The cathedral is filled with relics and
trophies. In the vestibule is a huge shell, one of many
hundreds of shells which were thrown into the city.
Over the altar are still seen the French flagstaves,
taken by the garrison in a desperate sally. The white
ensigns of the House of Bourbon have long been dust:
but their place has been supplied by new banners, the
work of the fairest hands of Ulster. The anniversary
of the day on which the gates were closed, and the
anniversary of the day on which the siege was raised,
have been down to our own time celebrated by salutes,
processions, banquets, and sermons : Lundy has been
executed in effigy ; and the sword, said by tradition to
be that of Maumont, has, on great occasions, been
carried in triumph. There is still a Walker Club and
a Murray Club. The humble tombs of the Protestant
captains have been carefully sought out, repaired, and
embellished. It is impossible not to respect the sen-
timent which indicates itself by these tokens. It is
a sentiment which belongs to the higher and purer
part of human nature, and which adds not a little
to the strength of states. A people which takes no
pride in the noble achievements of remote ancestors
will never achieve any thing worthy to be remembered
with pride by remote descendants. Yet it is impos-
sible for the moralist or the statesman to look with
unmixed complacency on the solemnities with which
Londonderry commemorates her deliverance, and on
the honours which she pays to those who saved her.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 241
TJnhappily the animosities of her brave champions have chap.
descended with their glory. The faults which are or-
dinarily found in dominant castes and dominant sects I689.
have not seldom shown themselves without disguise at
her festivities ; and even with the expressions of pious
gratitude which have resounded from her pulpits have
too often been mingled words of wrath and defiance.
The Irish army which had retreated to Strabane re-
mained there but a very short time. The spirit of the
troops had been depressed by their recent feilure, and
was soon completely cowed by the news of a great
disaster in another quarter.
Three weeks before this time the Duke of Berwick had Operadont
gained an advantage over a detachment of the Ennis- ES^skU-^
killeners, and had, by their own confession, kUled or ^^^^^
taken more than fifty of them. They were in hopes of
obtaining some assistance from Kirke, to whom they
had sent a deputation ; and they still persisted in reject-
ing all terms ofiered by the enemy. It was therefore
determined at Dublin that an attack should be made
upon them from several quarters at once. Macarthy,
who had been rewarded for his services in Munster with
the title of Viscount Mountcashel, marched towards
Lough Erne from the east with three regiments of foot,
two regiments of dragoons, and some troops of cavalry.
A considerable force, which lay encamped near the mouth
of the river Drowes, was at the same time to advance
from the west. The Duke of Berwick was to come from
the north, with such horse and dragoons as could be
spared from the army which was besieging Londonderry.
The Enniskilleners were not fully apprised of the whole
plan which had been laid for their destruction; but
they knew that Macarthy was on the road with a force
exceeding any which they could bring into the field.
Their anxiety was in some degree relieved by the return
of the deputation which they had sent to Kirke. Kirke
could spare no soldiers ; but he had sent some arms, some
VOL. III. R
242 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, ammunition, and some experienced officers, of whom
»^!l the chief were Colonel Wolseley and Lieutenant Colonel
1689. Berry. These officers had come by sea round the coast
of Donegal, and had run up the Erne. On Sunday,
the twenty ninth of July, it was known that their
boat was approaching the island of Enniskillen. The
whole population, male and female, came to the shore
to greet them. It was with difficulty that they made
their way to the Castle through the crowds which hung
on them, blessing God that dear old England had not
quite forgotten the Englishmen who upheld her cause
against great odds in the heart of Ireland.
Wolseley seems to have been in every respect well
qualified for his post. He was a stanch Protestant, had
distinguished himself among the Yorkshiremen who
rose up for the Prince of Orange and a free Parliament,
and had, if he is not belied, proved his zeal for liberty
and pure religion, by causing the Mayor of Scarborough,
who had made a speech in favour of King James, to be
brought into the market place and well tossed there in
a blanket.* This vehement hatred of Popery was, in
the estimation of the men of EnniskiUen, the first of all
qualifications for command: and Wolseley had other
and more important qualifications. Though himself
regularly bred to war, he seems to have had a peculiar
aptitude for the management of irregular troops. He
had scarcely taken on himself the chief command wheii
he received notice that Mountcashel had laid siege to
the Castle of Crum. Crum was the frontier garrison of
the Protestants of Fermanagh. The ruins of the old
fortifications are now among the attractions of a beau-
tiful pleasuregroimd, situated on a woody promontory
which overlooks Lough Erne. Wolseley determined
to raise the siege. He sent Berry forward with such
troops as could be instantly put in motion, and promised
to follow speedily with a larger force.
♦ Bernardrs Life of Himself, 1737.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 243
Berry, after marching some miles, encountered thir- chap.
teen companies of Macarthy's dragoons commanded ^^^
by Anthony, the most brilliant and accomplished of ^689.
all who bore the name of Hamilton, but much less sue- Bauie of
cessful as a soldier than as a courtier, a lover, and a ^^^^^^
writer. Hamilton's dragoons ran at the first fire : he
was severely wounded; and his second in command
was shot dead. Macarthy soon came up to support
Hamilton; and at the same time Wolseley came up
to support Berry. The hostile armies were now in
presence of each other. Macarthy had above five thou-
sand men and several pieces of artillery. The Ennis-
kiUeners were under three thousand; and they had
marched in such haste that they had brought only
one day's provisions. It was therefore absolutely ne-
cessary for them either to fight instantly or to re-
treat. Wolseley determined to consult the men; and
this determination, which, in ordinary circumstances,
would have been most unworthy of a general, was fiilly
justified by the peculiar composition and temper of the
little army, an army made up of gentlemen and yeomen
fighting, not for pay, but for their lands, their wives,
their children, and their God. The ranks were drawn
up under arms; and the question was put, "Advance
or Retreat?" The answer was an universal shout of
" Advance." Wolseley gave out the word, " No Popery."
It was received with loud applause. He instantly
made his dispositions for an attack. As he approached,
the enemy, to his great surprise, began to retire.
The Enniskilleners were eager to pursue with all speed :
but their commander, suspecting a snare, restrained
their ardour, and positively forbade them to break
their ranks. Thus one army retreated and the other
followed, in good order, through the little town of
Newton Butler. About a mile from that town the
Irish faced about, and made a stand. Their position
was well chosen. They were drawn up on a hiU at the
R 2
244 HISTORY OP ENGLAND.
CHAP, foot of which lay a deep bog. A narrow paved canse-
"^^ way which ran across the bog was the only road by
1689. which the cavalry of the Enniskilleners could advance ;
for on the right and left were pools, turf pits, and
quagmires, which afforded no footing to horses. Ma-
carthy placed his cannon in such a manner as to sweep
this causeway.
Wolseley ordered his infantry to the attack. They
struggled through the bog, made their way to firm
ground, and rushed on the guns. There was then
a short and desperate fight. The Irish cannoneers
stood gallantly to their pieces till they were cut
down to a man. The Enniskillen horse, no longer in
danger of being mowed down by the fire of the artil-
lery, came fast up the causeway. The Irish dragoons
who had run away in the morning were smitten with
another panic, and, without striking a blow, galloped
from the field. The horse followed the example. Such
was the terror of the fugitives that many of them
spurred hard tUl their beasts fell down, and then con-
tinued to fly on foot, throwing away carbines, swords,
and even coats as incumbrances. The infantry, see-
ing themselves deserted, flung down their pikes and
muskets and ran for their lives. The conquerors now
gave loose to that ferocity which has seldom failed to
disgrace the civil wars of Ireland. The butchery was
terrible. Near fifteen hundred of the vanquished were
put to the sword. About five hundred more, in igno-
rance of the country, took a road which led to Lough
Erne. The lake was before them : the enemy behind :
they plunged into the waters and perished there. Ma-
carthy, abandoned by his troops, rushed into the midst
of the pursuers and very nearly found the death which
he sought. He was wounded in several places : he was
struck to the ground; and in another moment his
brains would have been knocked out with the but end
of a musket, when he was recognised and saved. The
WILLIAM AND MABY. 245
colonists lost only twenty men killed and fifty wounded, chap.
They took four hundred prisoners, seven pieces of ^"'
cannon, fourteen barrels of powder, aU the drums and i^^D-
aU the colours of the vanquished enemy.*
The battle of Newton Butler was won on the same Coustema-
aftemoon on which the boom thrown over the Foyle irUh?^^*
was broken. At Strabane the news met the Celtic army
which was retreating from Londonderry. All was ter-
ror and confusion : the tents were struck : the military
stores were flung by waggon loads into the waters of
the Moume; and the dismayed Irish, leaving many
sick and wounded to the mercy of the victorious Pro-
testants, fled to Omagh, and thence to Charlemont.
Sarsfield, who commanded at Sligo, found it necessary
to abandon that town, which was instantly occupied by
a detachment of Earke's troops.f Dublin was in con-
sternation. James dropped words which indicated an in-
tention of flying to the Continent, Evil tidings indeed
came fast upon him. Almost at the same time at
which he learned that one of his armies had raised the
siege of Londonderry, and that another had been routed
at Newton Butler, he received intelligence scarcely less
disheartening from Scotland.
It is now necessary to trace the progress of those
events to which Scotland owes her political and her
religious liberty, her prosperity and her civilisation.
• Hamilton's True Relation ; backs on an enemy. They had run
Mac Cormick*8 Farther Account ; away once before on tliat very day.
London Gazette, Aug. 22. 1689; Avauz gives a very simple ac-
Life of James, ii. 368, SdQ.; Avauz count of the defeat : << Ces mesmes
to Lewis, Aug. ^., and to Louvois of dragons qui avoient fuy le matin
the same date. Story mentions a re- lascherent le pied avec tout le reste
port that the panic among the Irish de la cavalerie, sans tirer un coup de
was caused by the mistake of an pistolet; et ils s'enfuirent tons aveo
cyfficer who caUed out ** Right about une telle ^pouvante qu'ils jetterent
face" instead of ''Right face." mousquetons, pistolets, et espies ; et
Neither Avaux nor James had heard la plupart d eux, ayant crev^ leurs
any thing about this mistake. In- chevaux, se ddshabiU^rent pour aller
deed the dragoons who set the ex* plus viste k pied."
ample of flight were not in the habit t Hamilton's True Relation,
of waiting for orders to turn their
A 3
246 mSTOBT OF enqlakd.
CHAPTER Xni.
CHAP. The violence of revolutions is generally proportioned to
^'"' the degree of the maladministration which has produced
1689. them. It is therefore not strange that the government
iSuon^or ^^ Scotland, having been during many years far more
violent in opprcssivc and corrupt than the government of Eng-
S^an ?n^ land, should have fallen with a far heavier ruin. The
England, movement against the last king of the House of Stuart
was in England conservative, in Scotland desbuctive.
The English complained, not of the law, but of the
violation of the law. They rose up against the first
magistrate merely in order to assert the supremacy of the
law. They were for the most part strongly attached to
the Church established by law. Even in applying that
extraordinary remedy to which an extraordhiary emer-
gency compelled them to have recourse, they deviated as
little as possible from the ordinary methods prescribed
by the law. The Convention which met at Westminster,
though summoned by irregular writs, was constituted
on the exact model of a regular Parliament. No man
was invited to the Upper House whose right to sit
there was not clear. The knights and burgesses were
chosen by those electors who would have been entitled
to choose the members of a House of Commons called
under the great seal. The franchises of the forty
shilling freeholder, of the householder paying scot and
lot, of the burgage tenant, of the liveryman of London,
of the Master of Arts of Oxford, were respected. The
sense of the constituent bodies was taken with as little
violence on the part of mobs, with as little trickery on
the part of returning officers, as at any general election
of that age. When at length the Estates met, their
WILLIAM AND MARY. 247
deliberations were carried on with perfect freedom and chap.
in strict accordance with ancient forms. There was J^^^^'
indeed, after the first flight of James, an alarming i689-
anarchy in London and in some parts of the country.
But that anarchy nowhere lasted longer than forty
eight hours. From the day on which William reached
Saint James's, not even the most unpopular agents of
the fallen government, not even the ministers of the
Roman Catholic Church, had anything to fear from the
fury of the populace.
in Scotland the course of events was very different.
There the law itself was a grievance ; and James had
perhaps incurred more unpopularity by enforcing it than
by violating it. The Church established by law was the
most odious institution in the realm. The tribunals had
pronounced some sentences so flagitious, the Parliament
had passed some Acts so oppressive, that, unless those
sentences and those Acts were treated as nullities, it would
be impossible to bring together a Convention commanding
the public respect and expressing the public opinion. It
was hardly to be expected, for example, that the Whigs,
in this day of their power, would endure to see their
hereditary leader, the son of a martyr, the grandson of
a martyr, excluded from the Parliament House in which
nine of his ancestors had sate as Earls of Argyle, and
excluded by a judgment on which the whole king-
dom cried shame. Still less was it to be expected that
they would suffer the election of members for counties
and towns to be conducted according to the provi-
sions of the existing law. For imder the existing
law no elector could vote without swearing that he
renounced the Covenant, and that he acknowledged the
Royal supremacy in matters ecclesiastical.* Such an
oath no rigid Presbyterian could take. If such an
oatll had been exacted, the constituent bodies would
have been merely small knots of prelatists : the busi-
♦ Act ParL Scot., Aug. 3 1 . 1 68 1 .
R 4
248 HISTORY 0¥ ENGLAND.
CHAP, ^ess of devising securities against oppression would
1 have been left to the oppressors ; and the great party
1689. which had been most active in effecting the Revolution
would, in an assembly sprung from the Revolution,
have had not a single representative.*
William saw that he must not think of paying to the
laws of Scotland that scrupulous respect which he had
wisely and righteously paid to the laws of England.
It was absolutely necessary that he should determine
by his own authority how that Convention which was
to meet at Edinburgh should be chosen, and that he
should assume the power of annulling some judgments
and some statutes. He accordingly sununoned to the
parliament house several Lords who had been deprived
of their honours by sentences which the general voice
loudly condenmed as unjust ; and he took on himself to
dispense with the Act which deprived Presbyterians of
the elective franchise.
Elections The conscqucnce was that the choice of almost all
o^nven- *^® shircs and burghs fell on Whig candidates. The
tion. defeated party complained loudly of foul play, of the
rudeness of the populace, and of the partiality of the
presiding magistrates ; and these complaints were in
many cases well founded. It is not under such rulers
as Lauderdale and Dundee that nations learn justice
and moderation.!
Rabbling Nor WHS it Only at the elections that the popular
wopd *^*'" feeling, so long and so severely compressed, exploded
Clergy. with violcncc. The heads and the hands of the martyred
Whigs were taken down from the gates of Edinburgh,
carried in procession by great multitudes to the ceme-
teries, and laid in the earth with solenm respect. J It
♦ Balcarras's Memoirs ; Short t Balcarras's Memoirs ; Life of
History of the Revolution in Scot- James, ii. .341.
land in a letter from a Scotch gentle- J A Memorial for His Highness
man in Amsterdam to his friend in the Prince of Orange in relation
London, 1712. to the Affairs of Scotland, by two
Persons of Quality, 1685),
WILLIAM AND MARY. 249
would have been well if the public enthusiasm had chap.
manifested itself in no less praiseworthy form. Un-
happily throughout a large part of Scotland the clergy 1689.
of the Established Church were, to use the phrase then
common, rabbled. The morning of Christmas day was
fixed for the commencement of these outrages. For
nothing disgusted the rigid Covenanter more than the
reverence paid by the prelatist to the ancient holidays
of the Church. That such reverence may be carried to
an absurd extreme is true. But a philosopher may
perhaps be inclined to think the opposite extreme not
less absurd, and may ask why religion should reject the
aid of associations which exist in every nation sufficiently
civilised to have a calendar, and which are found by
experience to have a powerful and often a salutary
effect. The Puritan, who was, in general, but too ready
to follow precedents and analogies drawn from the his-
tory and jurisprudence of the Jews, might have found
in the Old Testament quite as clear warrant for keeping
festivals in honour of great events as for assassinating
bishops and refusing quarter to captives. He certainly
did not learn from his master, Calvin, to hold such fes-
tivals in abhorrence ; for it was in consequence of the
strenuous exertions of Calvin that Christmas was, aft;er
an interval of some years, again observed by the citizens
of Geneva.* But there had arisen in Scotland Calvinists
who were to Calvin what Calvin was to Laud. To
these austere fanatics a holiday was an object of positive
disgust and hatred. They long continued in their solemn
manifestoes to reckon it among the sins which would
one day bring down some fearftd judgment on the land
that the Court of Session took a vacation in the last
week of December.f
* See Calvin's letter to Haller^ hoc temperamentum quesivi^ ut
iv. Nod. Jan. 1551: ^'Priusquam Christi natalis celebraretur."
nrbem nnquam ingrederer, nulls t In the Act, Declaration^ and
prorsus erant feriffi preter diem Do- Testimony of the Seceders, dated
minicum. Ex quo sum revocatns lA December^ 1736^ it is said that
250 niSTOBT OF ENGLAin).
CHAP. On Christmas day, therefore, the Goyenanters held
^^"' armed musters by concert in many parts of the western
1689. shires. Each band marched to the nearest manse, and
sacked the cellar and larder of the minister, which at
that season were probably better stocked than osiiaL
The priest of Baal was reviled and insulted, sometimes
beaten, sometimes ducked. His furniture was thrown
out of the windows ; his wife and children turned out
of doors in the snow. He was then carried to the
market place, and exposed during some time as a male-
factor. His gown was torn to shreds over his head: if
he had a prayer book in his pocket it was burned ;
and he was dismissed with a charge, never, as he
valued his life, to oflB.ciate in the parish again. The
work of reformation having been tiius completed, the
reformers locked up the church and departed with
the keys. In justice to these men it must be owned
that they had suffered such oppression as may excuse,
though it cannot justify, their violence ; and that, though
they were rude even to brutality, they do not appear
to have been guilty of any intentional injury to life or
limb.*
The disorder spread fast. In Ayrshire, Clydesdale,
Nithisdale, Annandale, every parish was visited by
" countenance is given by authority pretended Queen Anne and her pre-
of Parliament to the observation of tended British^ really Brutish Par-
holidays in Scotland, by the vacation liament, for enacting the observance
of our most considerable Courts of of that which is called the Yule
Justice in the latter end of De- Vacancy." — The Dying Testirao-
cember." This is declared to be a ny of William Wilson, sometime
national sin,, and a ground of the Schoolmaster in Park^ in the Parish
Lord's indignation. In March 1758, of Douglas, aged 68, who died in
the Associate Synod addressed a 1757.
Solemn Warning to the Nation, in ♦ An Account of the Present
which the same complaint was re- Persecution of the Church in Scot-
pcated. A poor crazy creature, whose land, in several Letters, 1690; The
nonsense has been thought worthy Case of the afflicted Clergy in
of being reprinted even in our own Scotland truly represented, 1690 ;
time, says : " I leave my testimony Faithful Contendings Displayed ;
against the abominable Act of the Burnet, i. 805.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 251
these turbulent zealots. About two hundred curates chap.
—so the episcopal parish priests were called — were ^^"'
expelled. The graver Covenanters, while they ap- i689.
plauded the fervour of their riotous brethren, were
apprehensive that proceedings so irregular might give
scandal, and learned, with especial concern, that here
and there an Achan had disgraced the good cause by
stooping to plunder the Canaanites whom he ought
only to have smitten. A general meeting of ministers
and elders was called for the purpose of preventing
such discreditable excesses. In this meeting it was
determined that, for the fixture, the ejection of the
established clergy should be performed in a more cere-
monious manner. A form of notice was drawn up and
served on every curate in the Western Lowlands who
had not yet been rabbled. This notice was simply a
threatening letter, commanding him to quit his parish
peaceably, on pain of being turned out by force.*
The Scottish Bishops, in great dismay, sent the Dean
of Glasgow to plead the cause of their persecuted Church
at Westminster. The outrages committed by the Cove-
nanters were in the highest degree offensive to William,
who had, in the south of the island, protected even Be-
nedictines and Franciscans from insult and spoliation.
But, though he had, at the request of a largenumber of the
noblemen and gentlemen of Scotland, taken on himself
provisionally the executive administration of that king-
dom, the means of maintaining order there were not at
his command. He had not a single regiment north of
the Tweed, or indeed within many miles of that river.
It was vain to hope that mere words would quiet a
nation which had not, in any age, been very amenable .
to control, and which was now agitated by hopes and
resentments, such as great revolutions, following great
oppressions, naturally engender. A proclamation was
* The form of notice will be found in the book entitled Faithful
ContendingB Displayed.
252 HISTORY OF EKGLASD.
CHAP, however put forth, directing that all people ahotild lay
. down their arms, and that, till the Convention should
1^89. have settled the government, the clergy of the Esta-
blished Church should be suffered to reside on their
cures without molestation. But this proclamation, not
being supported by troops, was very little regarded.
On the very day after it was publish^ at Glasgow, the
venerable Cathedral of that city, almost the only fine
church of the middle ages which stands uninjured in
Scotland, was attacked by a crowd of Presbyterians
from the meeting houses, with whom were mingled
many of their fiercer brethren from the hiUs. It was a
Sunday ; but to rabble a congregation of prelatists was
held to be a work of necessity and mercy. The wor-
shippers were dispersed, beaten, and pelted with snow-
balls. It was indeed asserted that some wounds were
inflicted with much more formidable weapons.*
State of Edinburgh, the seat of government, was in a state
"'^ of anarchy. The Castle, which commanded the whole
city, was still held for James by the Duke of Grordon.
The common people were generally Whigs. The Col-
lege of Justice, a great forensic society composed of
judges, advocates, writers to the signet, and solicitors,
was the stronghold of Toryism: for a rigid test had
during some years excluded Presbyterians fit)m all the
departments of the legal profession. The lawyers, some
hundreds in number, formed themselves into a battalion
of infantry, and for a time effectually kept down the
multitude. They paid, however, so much respect to
William's authority as to disband themselves when his
proclamation was published. But the example of obe-
dience which they had set was not imitated. Scarcely
had they laid down their weapons, when Covenanters
♦ Account of the Present Perse- the Service of Ctod on Sunday last,
cution, 1690; Case of the afflicted being the 17th of February, l689,
Clergy, 169O; A true Account of signed by James Gibson, acting for
that Interruption that was made of the Lord Provost of Glasgow.
WILLIAM AND liARY. 253
from the west, who had done all that was to be done in chap
the way of pelting and hustling the curates of their
own neighbourhood, came dropping into Edinburgh. i6S9-
by tens and twenties, for the purpose of protecting, or,
if need should be, of overawing the Convention. Glas-
gow alone sent four hundred of these men. It could
hardly be doubted that they were directed by some
leader of great weight. They showed themselves little
in any public place : but it was known that every cellar
was filled with them ; and it might well be apprehended
that, at the first signal, they would pour forth from
their caverns, and appear armed round the Parliament
house.*
It might have been expected that every patriotic and Question
enlightened Scotchman would have earnestly desired to bet^een*^"
see the agitation appeased, and some government es- ]^°|^^^^.
tablished which might be able to protect property and land raised.
to enforce the law. An imperfect settlement which
could be speedily made might well appear to such a
man preferable to a perfect settlement which must be
the work of time. Just at this moment, however, a
party, strong both in numbers and in abilities, raised
a new and most important question, which seemed not
unlikely to prolong the interregnum tiU the autumn.
This party maintained that the Estates ought not
immediately to declare William and Mary King and
Queen, but to propose to England a treaty of union,
and to keep the throne vacant till such a treaty should
be concluded on terms advantageous to Scotland.f
It may seem strange that a large portion of a
people, whose patriotism, exhibited, often in a heroic,
and sometimes in a comic form, has long been pro*
verbial, should have been willing, nay impatient, to
surrender an independence which had been, through
many ages, dearly prized and manfully defended. The
* Balcarras's Memoirs ; Mackay's Memoirs. t Burnet^ ii. 21.
254 HISTORY OF ENGLAM).
CHAP, truth is that the stubborn spirit which the arms of the
xiiL piantagenets and Tudors had been unable to subdue
1689. had begun to yield to a very different kind of force.
Customhouses and tariffs were rapidly doing what the
carnage of Falkirk and Halidon, of Flodden and (£
Pinkie, had failed to do. Scotland had some expe-
rience of the effects of an union. She had, near forty
years before, been united to England on 8u<^ terms as
England, flushed with conquest, chose to dictate. That
union was inseparably associated in the minds of the
vanquished people with defeat and hmniliation. And
yet even that union, cruelly as it had wounded the
pride of the Scots, had promoted their prosperity.
Cromwell, with wisdom and liberality rare in his age,
had established the most complete freedom of trade
between the dominant and the subject country. While
he governed, no prohibition, no duty, impeded the
transit of commodities from any part of the island to
any other. His navigation laws imposed no restramt
on the trade of Scotland. A Scotch vessel was at
liberty to carry a Scotch cargo to Barbadoes, and to
bring the sugars of Barbadoes into the port of Lon-
don.* The rule of the Protector therefore had been
propitious to the industry and to the physical well-
being of the Scottish people. Hating him and cursing
him, they could not help thriving imder him, and often,
during the administration of their legitimate princes,
looked back with regret to the golden days of the
usurper.f
* Scobell, 1654, cap. 9*> ^^*^ ^g^t thousand men kept in Soot-
Oliver's Ordinance in Council of the land. The pay of the army farongfat
12th of April in the same year. so much money into the kingdom
t Burnet and Fletcher of Saltoun that it continued all that while in a
mention the prosperity of Scotland very flourishing state. We
under the Protector^ hut ascribe always reckon those eight yean of
it to a cause quite inadequate to usurpation a time of great peate and
the production of such an effect, prosperity." ''During the time
*' There was," says Burnet, '* a of the usurper Cromwell," says
considerable force of about seven or Fletcher, *' we imagined onnelves
WILLIAM AND MARY. 255
The Restoration came, and changed every thing. The chap.
Scots regained their independence, and soon began to ^^"'
find that independence had its discomfort as well as 1689.
its dignity. The English parliament treated them as
aliens and as rivals. A new Navigation Act put them
on almost the same footing with the Dutch. High
duties, and in some cases prohibitory duties, were im-
posed on the products of Scottish industry. It is not
wonderful that a nation eminently industrious, shrewd,
and enterprising, a nation which, having been long
kept back by a sterile soil and a severe climate, was
just beginning to prosper in spite of these disadvan-
tages, and which found its progress suddenly stopped,
should think itself cruelly treated. Yet there was no
help. Complaint was vain. Retaliation was impos-
sible. The Sovereign, even if he had the wish, had not
the power, to bear himself evenly between his large
and his small kingdom, between the kingdom from
which he drew an annual revenue of a million and a
half and the kingdom from which he drew an annual
revenue of little more than sixty thousand pounds. He
dared neither to refuse his assent to any English law
injurious to the trade of Scotland, nor to give his assent
to any Scotch law injurious to the trade of England.
The complaints of the Scotch, however, were so loud
that Charles, in 1667, appointed Commissioners to ar-
range the terms of a commercial treaty between the
two British kingdoms. The conferences were soon
broken off ; and all that passed while they continued
to be in t tolerable condition witli modest Thoughts partly occasioned
respect to the last particular (trade by and partly concerning the Scotch
and money) by reason of that ex- East India Company/ Edinburgh,
pense which was made in the realm I696. See the Proceedings of the
by those forces that kept us in Wednesday Club in Friday Street,
subjection." The true explanation upon the subject of an Union with
of the phenomenon about which Scotland, December 1 705. See also
Burnet and Fletcher blundered so the Seventh Chapter of Mr. Barton's
g^x>8sly will be found in a pamphlet valuable History of Scotland,
entitled^ ''Some seasonable and
256 mSTOBT OF ENGLAIO).
CHAP, proved that there was only one way in which Scotland
XIII J J
1 could obtain a share of the conunercial prosperity which
1689. England at that time enjoyed.* The Scotch must become
one people with the English. The Parliament which
had hitherto sate at Edinburgh must be incorporated
with the Parliament which sate at Westminster. The
sacrifice could not but be painfully felt by a brave and
haughty people, who had, during twelve generations,
regarded the southern domination with deadly aversion,
and whose hearts still swelled at the thought of the
death of Wallace and of the triumphs of Bruce. There
were doubtless many punctilious patriots who would
have strenuously opposed an union even if they could
have foreseen that the efiect of an union would be to
make Glasgow a greater city than Amsterdam, and to
cover the dreary Lothians with harvests and woods,
neat farmhouses and stately mansions. But there was
also a large class which was not disposed to throw
away great and substantial advantages in order to
preserve mere names and ceremonies ; and the in-
fluence of this class was such that, in the year 1670,
the Scotch Parliament made direct overtures to Eng-
land.f The King undertook the office of mediator ;
and negotiators were named on both sides ; but nothing
was concluded.
The question, having slept during eighteen years,
was suddenly revived by the Revolution. Different
classes, impelled by different motives, concurred on
this point. With merchants, eager to share in the ad-
vantages of the West Indian Trade, were joined active
and aspiring politicians who wished to exhibit their
abilities in a more conspicuous theatre than the Scottish
Parliament House, and to collect riches from a more
copious source than the Scottish treasury. The cry
• See the paper in which the found in the Appendix to De Foe's
demands of the Scotch Commis- History of the Union, No. 13.
sioners are set forth. It will be t Act. Pari. Scot., July 30.1670.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 257
for union was swelled by the voices of some artfiil chap.
Jacobites, who merely wished to cause discord and ^^^
delay, and who hoped to attain this end by mixing up 1^89.
with the difficult question which it was the especiid
business of the Convention to settle another question
more difficult still. It is probable that some who
disliked the ascetic habits and rigid discipline of the
Presbyterians wished for an union as the only mode
of maintaining prelacy in the northern part of the
island. In an united Parliament the English mem-
bers must greatly preponderate ; and in England the
Bishops were held in high honour by the great ma-
jority of the population. The Episcopal Church of
Scotland, it was plain, rested on a narrow basis, and
would fall before the first attack. The Episcopal
Church of Great Britain might have a foundation broad
and solid enough to withstand all assaults.
Whether, in 1689, it would have been possible to
effect a civil union without a religious union may well
be doubted. But there can be no doubt that a reUgious
union would have been one of the greatest calamities
that could have befallen either kingdom. The union
accomplished in 1707 has indeed been a great blessing
both to England and to Scotland. But it has been a
blessing because, in constituting one State, it left two
Churches. The political interest of the contracting
parties was the same : but the ecclesiastical dispute
between them was one which admitted of no com-
promise. They could therefore preserve harmony only
by agreeing to difier. Had there been an amalgama-
tion of the hierarchies, there never would have been
an amalgamation of the nations. Successive Mitchells
would have fired at successive Sharpes. Five gene-
rations of Claverhouses would have butchered five
generations of Camerons. Those marvellous improve-
ments which have changed the face of Scotland would
never have been efiected. Plains now rich with har-
VOL. III. s
258 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, vests would have remained barren moors. Water-
L falls which now turn the wheels of immense fBictories
1689. would have resounded in a wilderness. New Lanark
would still have been a sheepwalk, and Greenock a
fishing hamlet. What little strength Scotland could
under such a system have possessed must, in an es-
timate of the resources of Great Britain, have been, not
added, but deducted. So encumbered, our country
never could have held, either in peace or in war, a
place in the first rank of nations. We are unfortu-
nately not without the means of judging of the effect
which may be produced on the moral and physical
state of a people by establishing, in the exclusive en-
jojonent of riches and dignity a Church loved and
reverenced only by the few, and regarded by the
, many with religious and national aversion. One such
Church is quite burden enough for the energies of one
empire.
Wish of But these things, which to us, who have been taught
liib l!>w ^y ^ bitter experience, seem clear, were by no means
Church- clear in 1689, even to very tolerant and enlightened
serve Epu' politicians. In truth the English Low Churchmen
^Totiaud!" were, if possible, more anxious than the English High
Churchmen to preserve Episcopacy in Scotland. It is
a remarkable fact that Burnet, who was always ac-
cused of wishing to establish the Calvinistic discipline
in the south of the island, incurred great unpopu-
larity among his own countrymen by his efforts to
uphold prelacy in the north. He was doubtless in
error : but his error is to be attributed to a cause
which does him no discredit. His favourite object, an
object unattainable indeed, yet such as might well
fascinate a large intellect and a benevolent heart, had
long been an honourable treaty between the Anglican
Church and the Nonconformists. He thought it most
unfortunate that one opportunity of concluding such
a treaty should have been lost at the time of the Re-
WILLIAM AND MARY. 259
storation. It seemed to him that another opportunity chap.
was afforded by the Revolution. He and his friends ^^^^
were eagerly pushing forward Nottingham's Compre- 1689.
hension Bill, and were flattering themselves with vain
hopes of success. But they felt that there could hardly
be a Comprehension in one of the two British kingdoms,
unless there were also a Comprehension in the other.
Concession must be purchased by concession. If the
Presbyterian pertinaciously refused to listen to any
terms of compromise where he was strong, it would be
almost impossible to obtain for him liberal terms of
compromise where he was weak. Bishops must there-
fore be allowed to keep their sees in Scotland, in order
that divines not ordained by Bishops might be allowed
to hold rectories and canonries in England.
Thus the cause of the Episcopalians in the north and Opinioni
the cause of the Presbyterians in the south were bound about ™
up together in a maimer which might weU perplex even Church
a skilful statesman. It was happy for our country that ment in
the momentous question which excited so many strong ®^^^**"^
passions, and which presented itself in so many different
points of view, was to be decided by such a man as
William. He listened to Episcopalians, to Latitudina-
rians, to Presbyterians, to the Dean of Glasgow who
pleaded for the apostolical succession, to Burnet who
represented the danger of alienating the Anglican clergy,
to Carstairs who hated prelacy with the hatred of a
man whose thumbs were deeply marked by the screws
of prelatists. Surrounded by these eager advocates,
William remained calm and impartial. He was indeed
eminently qualified by his situation as well as by his
personal qualities to be the umpire in that great con-
tention. He was the King of a prelatical kingdom. He
was the Prime Minister of -a presbyterian republic.
His unwillingness to offend the Anglican Church of
which he was the head, and his unwillingness to offend
the reformed Churches of the Continent which regarded
260 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, him as a champion divinely sent to protect them
1 against the French tyranny, balanced each other, a&d
1C89. kept him from leaning unduly to either side. His con-
science was perfectly neutral. For it was his deliberate
opinion that no form of ecclesiastical polity was of di-
vine institution. He dissented equally from the school
of Laud and from the school of Cameron, from the men
who held that there could not be a Christian Church
without Bishops, and from the men who held that there
could not be a Christian Church without synods. Which
form of government should be adopted was in his judg-
ment a question of mere expediency. He would pro-
bably have preferred a temper between the two rival
systems, a hierarchy in which the chief spiritual ftmc-
tionaries should have been something more than mode-
rators and something less than prelates. But he was
far too wise a man to think of settling such a noiatter
according to his own personal tastes. He determined
therefore that, if there was on both sides a disposition
to compromise, he would act as mediator. But^ if it
should prove that the public mind of England and the
public mind of Scotland had taken the ply strongly in
opposite directions, he would not attempt to force either
nation into conformity with the opinion of the other.
He would suflfer each to have its own church, and would
content himself with restraining both churches from
persecuting nonconformists, and from encroaching on
the functions of the civil magistrate.
The language which he held to those Scottish Epi-
scopalians who complained to him of their su£ferings
and implored his protection was well weighed and well
guarded, but clear and ingenuous. He mshed, he said,
to preserve, if possible, the institution to which they
were so much attached, and to grant at the same time
entire liberty of conscience to that party which could
not be reconciled to any deviation from the Presby-
terian model. But the Bishops must take care that
WILLIAM AND MARY. 261
they did not, by their own rashness and obstinacy, put chap.
it out of his power to be of any use to them. They
must also distinctly understand that he was resolved i^^S-
not to force on Scotland by the sword a form of eccle-
siastical government which she detested. K, therefore,
it should be found that prelacy could be maintained
only by arms, he should yield to the general sentiment,
and should merely do his best to obtain for the Episco-
palian minority permission to worship God in freedom
and safety.*
It is not likely that, even if the Scottish Bishops Compa-
had, as William recommended, done all that meekness ^rmgth of
and prudence could do to conciliate their countrymen, ""^^^^^"'^
episcopacy could, under any modification, have been ScoUani
maintained. It was indeed asserted by writers of that
generation, and has been repeated by writers of our
generation, that the Presbyterians were not, before the
Revolution, the majority of the people of Scotland.f
But in this assertion there is an obvious fallacy. The
effective strength of sects is not to be ascertained merely
by counting heads. An established church, a dominant
church, a church which has the exclusive possession of
civil honours and emoluments, will always rank among
its nominal members multitudes who have no religion
at aU; multitudes who, though not destitute of religion,
attend little to theological disputes, and have no scruple
about conforming to the mode of worship which hap-
pens to be established ; and multitudes who have scruples
about conforming, but whose scruples have yielded to
worldly motives. On the other hand, every member of
an oppressed church is a man who has a very decided
* Burnet, ii. 23. the general inclinations of that peo-
f See^ for example, a pamphlet pie. The author answers the ques-
entided " Some questbns resolved tion in the negative, on the ground
concerning episcopal and preshyte- that the upper and middle classes
rian gOTemment in Scotland, 1690." had generally conformed to the epi.
One of the questions is, whether scopid Church before the Revolu-
Scottish presbytery be agreeable to tion.
8 S
262 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, preference for that church. A person who, in the
1 time of Diocletian, joined in celebrating the Christian
1689. mysteries might reasonably be supposed to be a firm
believer in Christ. But it would be a very great mis-
take to imagine that one single Pontiff or Augur in the
Roman Senate was a firm believer in Jupiter. In Mary's
reign, every body who attended the secret meetings of
the Protestants was a real Protestant : but hundreds of
thousands went to mass who, as appeared before she
had been dead a month, were not real Roman Catholics.
If, under the Kings of the House of Stuart, when a
Presbyterian was excluded from political power and
from the learned professions, was daily annoyed by in-
formers, by tyrannical magistrates, by licentious dra-
goons, and was in danger of being hanged if he heard a
sermon in the open- air, the population of Scotland was
not very unequally divided between Episcopalians and
Presbyterians, the rational inference is that more than
nineteen twentieths of those Scotchmen whose con-
science was interested in the matter were Presbyterians,
and that not one Scotchman in twenty was decidedly
and on conviction an Episcopalian. Against such odi
the Bishops had but little chance; and whatever chance
they had they made haste to throw away; some of them
because they sincerely believed that their allegiance was
still due to James ; others probably because they appre-
hended that William would not have the power, even if
he had the will, to serve them, and that nothing but a
counterrevolution in the State could avert a revolution
in the Church,
letter from As the ucw King of England could not be at Edin-
S^^scmch burgh during the sitting of the Scottish Convention, a
Conven- letter from him to the Estates was prepared with great
skill. In this document he professed warm attachment
to the Protestant religion, but gave no opinion touching
those questions about which Protestants were divided.
He had observed, he said, with great satisfaction that
WILLIAM AND MARY. 263
many of the Scottish nobility and gentry with whom chap
he had conferred in London were inclined to an union ^"^'
of the two British kingdoms. He was sensible how 1689.
much such an union would conduce to the happiness of
both ; and he would do all in his power towards the
accomplishing of so good a work.
It was necessary that he should allow a large dis- Wiujam's
cretion to his confidential agents at Edinburgh. The {fo^tohu
private instructions with which he furnished those per- agents in
sons could not be minute, but were highly judicious.
He charged them to ascertain to the best of their power
the real sense of the Convention, and to be guided by it.
They must remember that the first object was to set-
tle the government. To that object every other object,
even the union, must be postponed. A treaty between
two independent legislatures, distant from each other
several days' journey, must necessarily be a work of
time ; and the throne could not safely remain vacant
while the negotiations were pending. It was therefore
important that His Majesty's agents should be on their
guard against the arts of persons who, under pretence
of promoting the union, might really be contriving only
to prolong the interregnum. If the Convention should
be bent on establishing the Presbyterian form of church
government, William desired that his friends would do
all in their power to prevent the triumphant sect from
retaliating what it had suffered.*
The person by whose advice William appears to have The Dai-
been at this time chiefly guided as to Scotch politics ^^^ ^
was a Scotchman of great abilities and attainments. Sir
James Dalrymple of Stair, the founder of a family
eminently distinguished at the bar, on the bench, in
* The Instructions are in the Le- from acknowledging the ohligations
Ten and Melville Papers. They bear under which I, and all who take an
date March 7» 168|. Ou the first interest in the history of our island,
occasion on which I quote this most lie to the gentleman who has per-
TaluaUe collection^ I cannot refrain formed so well the duty of an editor.
8 4
264 HISTOBT OF ENQLAin).
CHAP, the senate, in diplomacy, in arms, and in letters, but
. distinguished also by misfortunes and misdeeds which
1^89- have furnished poets and novelists with materials for
the darkest and most heartrending tales. Already
Sir James had been in mourning for more than
one strange and terrible death. One of his sons had
died by poison. One of his daughters had poniarded
her bridegroom on the wedding night. One of his
grandsons had in boyish sport been slain by another.
Savage libellers asserted, and some of the superstitious
vulgar believed, that calamities so portentous were the
consequences of some connection between the unhappy
race and the powers of darkness. Sir James had a
wry neck ; and he was reproached with this misfortune
as if it had been a crime, and was told that it marked
him out as a man doomed to the gallows. His wife, a
woman of great ability, art, and spirit, was popularly
nicknamed the Witch of Endor. It was gravely said
that she had cast fearful spells on those whom she hated,
and that she had been seen in the likeness of a cat
seated on the cloth of state by the side of the Lord
High Commissioner. The man, however, over whose
roof so many curses appeared to hang did not, as far
as we can now judge, fall short of that very low
standard of morality which was generally attained by
politicians of his age and nation. In force of mind and
extent of knowledge he was superior to them all. In
his youth he had borne arms : he had then been a
professor of philosoph}' : he had then studied law, and
had become, by general acknowledgment, the greatest
jurist that his country had produced. In the days of
the Protectorate, he had been a judge. After the Re-
storation, he had made his peace -with the royal family,
had sate in the Privy Council, and had presided with
unrivalled ability in the Court of Session. He had
doubtless borne a share in many imjustifiable acts ; but
there were limits which he never passed. He had a
WILLIAM AND MABY. 265
wonderful power of giving to any proposition which it chap.
suited him to maintain a plausible aspect of legality and
even of justice ; and this power he frequently abused. 1689.
But he was not, like many of those among whom he
lived, impudently and unscrupulously servile. Shame
or conscience generally restrained him from committing
any bad action for which his rare ingenuity could not
friune a specious defence; and he was seldom in his
place at the council board when any thing outrageously
unjust or cruel was to be done. His moderation at
length gave offence to the Court. He was deprived of
his high office, and found himself in so disagreeable a
situation that he retired to Holland. There he employed
himself in correcting the great work on jurisprudence
which has preserved his memory fresh down to our
own time. In his banishment he tried to gain the
favour of his feUow exUes, who naturally regarded
him with suspicion. He protested, and perhaps with
truth, that his hands were pure from the blood of the
persecuted Covenanters. He made a high profession
of religion, prayed much, and observed weekly days of
fasting and humiliation. He even consented, after
much hesitation, to assist with his advice and his cre-
dit the unfortunate enterprise of Argyle. When that
enterprise had failed, a prosecution was instituted at
Edinburgh against Dalrymple ; and his estates would
doubtless have been confiscated had they not been
saved by an artifice which subsequently became common
among the politicians of Scotland. His eldest son and
heir apparent, John, took the side of the government,
supported the dispensing power, declared against the
Test, and accepted the place of Lord Advocate, when
Sir Greorge Mackenzie, after holding out through ten
years of foul drudgery, at length showed signs of flag-
ging. The services of the younger Dalrymple were
rewarded by a remission of the forfeiture which the
offences of the elder had incurred. Those services
266 UISTOBY OF ENGLAin).
CHAP, indeed were not to be despised. For Sir Jolm, though
L inferior to his father in depth and extent of le^al leam-
1689. ing, was no common man. His knowledge was great
and various : his parts were quick ; and his eloquence
was singularly ready and graceful. To sanctity ho
made no pretensions. Indeed Episcopalians and Pres-
byterians agreed in regarding him as little better than an
atheist. During some months Sir John at Edinburgh
affected to condenm the disloyalty of his unhappy pa-
rent Sir James ; and Sir James at Leyden told lus
Puritan friends how deeply he lamented the wicked
compliances of his unhappy child Sir John.
The Revolution came, and brought a large increase
of wealth and honours to the House of Stair. The
son promptly changed sides, and cooperated ably and
zealously with the father. Sir James established him-
self in London for the purpose of giving advice to
William on Scotch affairs. Sir John's post was in the
Parliament House at Edinburgh. He was not likely to
find any equal among the debaters there, and was pre-
pared to exert all his powers against the dynasty which
he had lately served.*
By the large party which was zealous for the Cal-
vinistic church government John Dalrjnnple was re-
garded with incurable distrust and dislike. It was
therefore necessary that another agent should be em-
MeiviUe. ployed to manage that party. Such an agent was
George Melville, Lord Melville, a nobleman connected
by affinity with the unfortunate Monmouth, and with
* As to the Dalrymples, see the Stairs; Law's Memorials; and the
Lord President's own writings, and Hyndford Papers, written in 17OJ
among them his Vindication of the and printed with the Letters of
Divine Perfections ; Wodrow's Ana- Carstairs. Lockhart, though a mor-
lecta; Douglas's Peerage ; Lockhart's tal enemy of John Dairy mple, says,
Memoirs; the Satyre on the Familie "There was none in the parlia-
of Stairs; the Satyric Lines upon ment capable to take np the cud-
the long wished for and timely Death gels with him."
of the Right Honourable Lady
WILLIAM AND MARY. 267
that Leslie who had unsuccessfully commanded the chap.
Scotch army against Cromwell at Dunbar. Melville
had always been accounted a Whig and a Presbyterian. ^^^9.
^hose who speak of him most favourably have not ven-
tured to ascribe to him eminent intellectual endowments
or exalted public spirit. But he appears from his let-
ters to have been by no means deficient in that homely
prudence the want of which has often been fatal to men
of brighter genius and of purer virtue. That prudence
had restrained him from going very far in opposition to
the tyranny of the Stuarts : but he had listened while
his friends talked about resistance, and therefore, when
the Rye House plot was discovered, thought it expe-
dient to retire to the Continent. In his absence he
was accused of treason, and was convicted on evidence
which would not have satisfied any impartial tribu-
nal. He was condemned to death: his honours and
lands were declared forfeit : his arms were torn with
contumely out of the Heralds' book ; and his domains
swelled the estate of the cruel and rapacious Perth.
The fugitive meanwhile, with characteristic wariness,
lived quietly on the Continent, and discountenanced
the unhappy projects of his kinsman Monmouth, but
cordially approved of the enterprise of the Prince of
Orange.
Illness had prevented Melville from sailing with the
Dutch expedition : but he arrived in London a few
hours after the new Sovereigns had been proclaimed
there. William instantly sent him down to Edinburgh,
in the hope, as it should seem, that the Presbyterians
would be disposed to listen to moderate counsels pro-
ceeding from a man who was attached to their cause,
and who had suffered for it. Melville's second son,
David, who had inherited, through his mother, the title
of Earl of Leven, and who had acquired some military
experience in the service of the Elector of Branden-
burg, had the honour of being the bearer of a letter
268 HISTORY OF ENOLAin).
CHAP, from the new King of England to the Scottish Con-
I^ vention.*
1689- James had intrusted the conduct of his afl^drs in
James's Scotland to John Graham, Viscount Dundee, and Colin
Scotland: Llndsay, Earl of Balcarras. Dundee had commanded
Mcarm. ^ body of Scottlsh troops which had marched into
England to oppose the Dutch : but he had found, m
the inglorious campaign which had been &tal to the
dynasty of Stuart, no opportunity of displaying the
courage and military skill which those who most de-
test his merciless nature allow him to have possessed.
He lay with his forces not far from Watford, when he
was informed that James had fled from Whitehall,
and that Feversham had ordered all the royal army
to disband. The Scottish regiments were thus left,
without pay or provisions, in the midst of a foreign and
indeed a hostile nation. Dundee, it is said, wept with
grief and rage. Soon, however, more cheering inteUi-
gence arrived from various quarters. William wrote a
few lines to say that, if the Scots would remain quiet,
he would pledge his honour for their safety ; and, some
hours later, it was known that James had returned to
his capital. Dundee repaired instantly to London.f
There he met his friend Balcarras, who had just arrived
from Edinburgh. Balcarras, a man distinguished by
his handsome person and by his accomplishments, had,
in his youth, aflfected the character of a patriot, but
had deserted the popular cause, had accepted a seat
in the Privy Council, had become a tool of Perth and
Melfort, and had been one of the Commissioners who
were appointed to execute the office of Treasurer when
Queensberry was disgraced for refusing to betray the
interests of the Protestant religion.J
♦ As to Melville, sec the Leven Burnet, ii. 24.; and the Burnet MS.
and Melville Papers, passim, and the Harl. ()584.
preface; the Act. Pari. Scot. June 1 6. t Creich ton's Memoirs.
1685 ; and the Appendix, June 13.; J Mackay's Memoirs.
WILLIAM AND MARY.
269
Dundee and Balcarras went together to Whitehall,
and had the honour of accompanying James in his last
walk, up and down the Mall. He told them that he
intended to put his aflfairs in Scotland under their
management. " You, my Lord Balcarras, must under-
take the civil business : and you, my Lord Dundee,
shall have a commission from me to command the
troops." The two noblemen vowed that they would
prove themselves deserving of his confidence, and dis-
claimed all thought of making their peace with the
Prince of Orange."*
On the following day James left Whitehall for ever ;
and the Prince of Orange arrived at Saint James's.
Both Dundee and Balcarras swelled the crowd which
thronged to greet the deliverer, and were not ungra-
ciously received. Both were well known to him. Dun-
dee had served under him on the Continent f; and the
CHAP.
xni.
1689.
* Memoirs of the Lindsays.
•f* About the early relation be-
tween William and Dundee, some
Jacobite, many years after they were
both dead, invented a story which
by successive embellishments was at
last improved into a romance which
it seems strange that even a child
should believe to be true. The last
edition runs thus. William's horse
was killed under him at Seneff, and his
life was in imminent danger. Dundee,
then Captain Graham, mounted His
Highness again. William promised
to reward this service with promo-
tion ; but broke his word and gave
to another the commission which
Graham had been led to expect.
The injured hero went to Loo.
There he met his sucoessfiil com-
petitor and gave him a box on the
ear. The punishment for striking
in the palace was the loss of the
offending right hand; but this
punishment the Prince of Orange
ungraciously remitted. '' You,** he
said, " saved my life ; I spare your
right hand : and now we are quits."
Those who, down to our own
time, have repeated this nonsense
seem to have thought, first, that the
Act of Henry the Eighth "for
punishment of murder and malicious
bloodshed within the King's Court "
(Stat. 33 Hen. VIII. c. 2.) was
law in Guelders; and, secondly,
that, in 1674, VVilliam was a King,
and his house a King's Court.
They were also not aware that he
did not purchase Loo till long after
Dundee had left the Netherlands.
See Harrib's Description of Loo,
1699.
This legend, of which I have not
been able to discover the slightest
trace in the voluminous Jacobite
literature of William's reign, seems
to have originated about a quarter
of a century after Dundee's death,
and to have attained its full ab-
surdity in another quarter of a cen-
tury.
270 HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, first wife of Balcarras had been a lady of the House of
^^^^ Orange, and had worn, on her weddmg day, a superb
1689. pair of emerald earrings, the gift of her cousin the
Prince.*
The Scottish Whigs, then assembled in great num-
bers at Westminster, earnestly pressed William to pio-
scribe by name four or five men who had, during the evil
times, borne a conspicuous part in the proceedings of
the Privy Council at Edinburgh. Dundee and Balcarras
were particularly mentioned. But the Prince had de-
termined that, as far as his power extended, all the
past should be covered with a general amnesty, and
absolutely refused to make any declaration which could
drive to despair even the most guilty of his uncle's
servants.
Balcarras went repeatedly to Saint James's, had
several audiences of William, professed deep respect for
his Highness, and owned that King James had com-
mitted great errors, but would not promise to concur in
a vote of deposition. William gave no sign of displea-
sure, but said at parting : " Take care, my Lord, that
you keep within the law; for, if you break it, you
must expect to be left to it."f
Dundee seems to have been less ingenuous. He
employed the mediation of Burnet, opened a negotiation
-with Saint James's, declared himself willing to acquiesce
in the new order of things, obtained from William a
promise of protection, and promised in return to live
peaceably. Such credit was given to his professions
that he was sufi^ered to travel down to Scotland under
the escort of a troop of cavalry. Without such an
escort the man of blood, whose name was never men-
tioned but mth a shudder at the hearth of any Pres-
byterian family, would, at that conjuncture, have had
* Memoirs of tlie Lindsays. f Ibid.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 271
but a perilous journey through Berwickshire and the chap.
Lothians.* i^
Februajy was drawing to a close when Dundee and 1689.
Balcarras reached Edinburgh. They had some hope
that they might be at the head of a majority in the
Convention. They therefore exerted themselves vigo-
rously to consolidate and animate their party. They
assured the rigid royalists, who had a scruple about
sitting in an assembly convoked by an usurper, that the
rightful King particularly wished no friend of hereditary
monarchy to be absent. More than one waverer was
kept steady by being assured in confident terms that a
speedy restoration was inevitable. Gordon had deter-
mined to surrender the castle, and had begun to remove
his furniture : but Dundee and Balcarras prevailed on
him to hold out some time longer. They informed him
that they had received from Saint Germains full powers
to adjourn the Convention to Stirling, and that, if things
went ill at Edinburgh, those powers would be used.f
At length the fourteenth of March, the day fixed for Meeting of
the meeting of the Estates, arrived, and the Parliament ^ntioT
House was crowded. Nine prelates were in their places.
When Argyle presented himself, a single lord protested
against the ainission of a person whom a legal sen-
tence, passed in due form, and still unreversed, had de-
prived of the honours of the peerage. But this objection
was overruled by the general sense of the assembly.
When Melville appeared, no voice was raised against
his admission. The Bishop of Edinburgh officiated as
chaplain, and made it one of his petitions that God
would help and restore King James. J It soon appeared
that the general feeling of the Convention was by no
* Burnet, ii. 22.; Memoirs of History of the late Revolution in
the Lindsays. Scotland, I69O; An Account of
t Balcarras's Memoirs. the Proceedings of the Estates of
t Act. Pari Scot.^ Mar. 14. 1689; Scotland, fol. Lond. I689.
272 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, means in harmony with this prayer. The first matter to
1 be decided was the choice of a President. The Duke of
1689. Hamilton was supported by the Whigs, the Marquess of
Athol by the Jacobites. Neither candidate possessed,
and neither deserved, the entire confidence of his sup-
porters. Hamilton had been a Privy Councillor of
James, had borne a part in many unjustifiable acts, and
had offered but a very cautious and languid opposition
to the most daring attacks on the laws and religion of
Scotland. Not till the Dutch guards were at Whitehall
had he ventured to speak out. Then he had joined the
victorious party, and had assured the Whigs that he
had pretended to be their enemy, only in order that he
might, without incurring suspicion, act as their friend.
Athol was still less to be trusted. His abilities were
mean, his temper false, pusillanimous, and cruel. In
the late reign he had gained a dishonourable notoriety
by the barbarous actions of which he had been guilty
in Argyleshire. He had turned with the turn of for-
tune, and had paid servile court to the Prince of
Orange, but had been coldly received, and had now,
from mere mortification, come back to the party which
he had deserted.* Neither of the rival noblemen had
chosen to stake the dignities and lands of his house on
the issue of the contention between the rival Kings.
The eldest son of Hamilton had declared for James,
and the eldest son of Athol for William, so that, in any
event, both coronets and both estates were safe.
But in Scotland the fashionable notions touching po-
litical morality were lax ; and the aristocratical sentiment
was strong. The Whigs were therefore willing to forget
that Hamilton had lately sate in the council of James.
The Jacobites were equally willing to forget that Athol
had lately faAvned on William. In political inconsis-
tency those two great lords were far indeed from stand-
* Balcarras'a narrative exhibits unfavourable light See also the
both Hamilton and Athol in a most Life of James^ ii. 338, 339*
WILLIAM AND MARY. 273
ing by themselves ; but in dignity and power they had chap.
scarcely an equal in the assembly. Their descent was 1
eminently illustrious : • their influence was immense : ^^^9-
one of them could raise the Western Lowlands: the
other could bring into the field an army of northern
mountaineers. Round these chiefs therefore the hostile
factions gathered.
The votes were counted ; and it appeared that Ha- Hamnton
milton had a majority of forty. The consequence was p^idcnt
that about twenty of the defeated party instantly
passed over to the victors.* At Westminster such a
defection would have been thought strange ; but it
seems to have caused little surprise at Edinburgh.
It is a remarkable circumstance that the same country
should have produced in the same age the most won-
derful specimens of both extremes of human nature.
No class of men mentioned in history has ever adhered
to a principle with more inflexible pertinacity than
was found among the Scotch Puritans. Fine and
imprisonment, the sheers and the branding iron, the
boot, the thumbscrew, and the gaUows could not extort
from the stubborn Covenanter one evasive word on
which it was possible to put a sense inconsistent with
his theological system. Even in things indifferent he
would hear of no compromise ; and he was but too ready
to consider all who recommended prudence and charity
as traitors to the cause of truth. On the other hand,
the Scotchmen of that generation who made a figure in
the Parliament House and in the Council Chamber were
the most dishonest and unblushing timeservers that the
world has ever seen. The English marvelled alike at
both classes. There were indeed many stouthearted
nonconformists in the South ; but scarcely any who in
obstinacy, pugnacity, and hardihood could bear a com-
parison with the men of the school of Cameron. There
* Act ParL Scott March 14. tory of die late Re?olution in Scot-
l68f; Balcarraa*8 Memoirs ; His- land; Life of James, ii. 842.
VOL. in. T
274 HISTOBY OF ENQLAHD.
CHAP, were many knavish politicians in the South; but few so
^"^' utterly destitute of morality, and still fewer so utterly
1689. destitute of shame, as the men of the school of Lauder-
dale. Perhaps it is natural that the most callous and
impudent vice should be found in the near neighbour-
hood of unreasonable and impracticable virtue. Where
enthusiasts are ready to destroy or to be destroyed for
trifles magnified into importance by a squeamish con-
science, it is not strange that the very name of conscience
should become a byword of contempt to cool and shrewd
men of business.
Committee The majority, reinforced by the crowd of deserters
tio^*^ from the minority, proceeded to name a Committee of
Elections. Fifteen persons were chosen, and it soon
appeared that twelve of these were not disposed to
examine severely into the regularity of any proceeding
of which the result had been to send up a Whig to the
Parliament House. The Duke of Handlton is said to
have been disgusted by the gross partiality of his own
followers, and to have exerted himself, with but little
success, to restrain their violence.*
Edinburgh Before the Estates proceeded to deliberate on the busi-
simmoned. ^^ss for which tliey had met, they thought it necessary
to provide for their own security. They could not be
perfectly at ease while the roof under which they sate
was commanded by the batteries of the Castle. A de-
putation was therefore sent to inform Gordon that the
Convention required him to evacuate the fortress within
twenty four hours, and that, if he complied, his past
conduct should not be remembered against him. He
asked a night for consideration. During that night his
wavering mind was confirmed by the exhortations of
Dundee and Balcarras. On the morrow he sent an an-
swer drawn in respectful but evasive terms. He was
very far, he declared, from meditating harm to the City
* Balcarras *s Memoirs; History of the late Revolution in Scotland,
J 690.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 275
of Edinburffh. Least of all could he harbour any chap.
XIIL
thought of molesting an august assembly which he re- __
garded with profound reverence. He would willingly 1689.
give bond for his good behaviour to the amount of
twenty thousand pounds sterling. But he was in com-
munication with the government now established in
England. He was in hourly expectation of important
despatches from that government ; and, till they arrived,
he should not feel himself justified in resigning his com-
mand. These excuses were not admitted. Heralds
and trumpeters were sent to summon the Castle in form,
and to denounce the penalties of high treason against
those who should continue to occupy that fortress in
defiance of the authority of the Estates. Guards were
at the same time posted to intercept all communication
between the garrison and the city.*
Two days had been spent in these preludes ; and it Dnndee
•',, ii«T • 1 threatened
was expected that on the third morning the great con- by the
test would begin. Meanwhile the population of Edin- ^^^^^
burgh was in an excited state. It had been discovered
that Dundee had paid visits to the Castle ; and it was
believed that his exhortations had induced the garrison
to hold out. His old soldiers were known to be gather-
ing round him; and it might well be apprehended that
he would make some desperate attempt. He, on the
other hand, had been informed that the Western Cove-
nanters who filled the cellars of the city had vowed
vengeance on him: and, in truth, when we consider
that their temper was singularly savage and implacable ;
that they had been taught to regard the slaying of a
persecutor as a duty; that no examples furnished by
Holy Writ had been more frequently held up to their ad-
miration than Ehud stabbing Eglon, and Samuel hewing
Agag limb from limb ; that they had never heard any
♦ Act. ParL Scot, March 14. and of the late Revolution in Scotland,
1.5. lt>89; Balcarraa's Memoirs; I69O; Account of the Proceedings
London Gazette, March 25; History of the Estates of Scotland, l689*
T 2
276 UISTOBT OF EKGLAND.
CHAl>. achievement in the history of their own country more
1 warmly praised by their favourite teachers than the
1 689. butchery of Cardinal Beatoun and of Archbishop Sharpe ;
we may well wonder that a man who had shed the blood
of the saints like water should have been able to walk
the High Street in safety during a single day. The
enemy whom Dundee had most reason to fear was a
youth of distinguished courage and abilities named
William Cleland. Cleland had, when little more than
sixteen years old, borne arms in that insurrection which
liad been put do^vn at Bothwell Bridge. He had since
disgusted some virulent fanatics by his humanity and
moderation. But with the great body of Presbyterians
his name stood high. For with the strict morality and
ardent zeal of a Puritan he united some accomplish-
ments of which few Puritans could boast. His manners
were polished, and his literary and scientific attainments
respectable. He was a linguist, a mathematician, and
a poet. It is true that liis hymns, odes, ballads, and
Hudibrastic satires are of veiy little intrinsic value;
but, when it is considered that he was a mere boy when
most of them were written, it must be admitted that
they show considerable vigour of mind. He was now
at Edinburgh : his influence among the West Country
Whigs assembled there was great: he hated Dundee
with deadly hatred, and was believed to be meditating
some act of violence.*
On the fifteenth of March Dundee received information
* Sec Cleland*8 Poems, and the widely celebrated. Thii » an en-
commendatory poems contained in tire mistake. William Cleland, who
the same volume, Edinburgh, lG97. fought at Bothwell Bridge^ wu not
It has been repeatedly asserted that twenty eight when he was killed in
this William Cleland was the father August, l689; and William Ckland,
of William Cleland, the Commis- the Commissioner of Taxes, died at
fiioner of Taxes, who was well known sixty seven in September, 1741.
twenty years later in the literary The former therefore cannot ba?e
society of London, who rendered been the father of the latter. See
same not very reputable services to the Exact Narrative of the Battle of
Pope, and whose son John was the Dunkeld ; the Gentleman*! Maga-
author of an infamous book but too zine for 17^0; and Warburton'a
WILLIAM AND MABY. 277
that some of the Covenanters had bound themselves toge- chap.
ther to slay him and Sir George Mackenzie, whose elo-
quence and learning, long prostituted to the service of 1689.
tyranny, had made him more odious to the Presbyterians
than any other man of the gown. Dundee applied to
Hamilton for protection ; and Hamilton advised him to
bring the matter under the consideration of the Con-
vention at the next sitting.*
Before that sitting, a person named Crane arrived Letter
from France, with a letter addressed by the fugitive totheSnJ
King to the Estates. The letter was sealed : the bearer, ▼en^on.
strange to say, was not furnished with a copy for the
information of the heads of the Jacobite party ; nor did he
bring any message, written or verbal, to either of James's
agents. Balcarras and Dundee were mortified by find-
ing that so little confidence was reposed in them, and
were harassed by painful doubts touching the contents
of the document on which so much depended. They
were willing, however, to hope for the best. King
James could not, situated as he was, be so ill advised as
to act in direct opposition to the counsel and entreaties
of his friends. His letter, when opened, must be found
to contain such gracious assurances as would animate
the royalists and conciliate the moderate Whigs. His
adherents, therefore, determined that it should be pro-
duced.
When the Convention reassembled on the morning of
Saturday the sixteenth of March, it was proposed that
measures should be taken for the personal security of
the members. It was alleged that the life of Dundee
note on the Letter to the Publisher opposer of their testimony. Cleland
of the Dunciad, a letter signed probably did not agree with Hamii-
AV. Cleland, but really written by ton in thinking it a sacred duty to cut
Pope. In a paper drawn up by the throats of prisoners of war who
Sir Robert Hamilton^ the oracle of the had been received to quarter. Sec
extreme Covenanters^ and a blood- Hamilton's Letter to the Societies,
thirsty ru£San, Cleland is mentioned Dec. 7« 1685.
as having been once leagued with * Balcarras's Memoirs,
tliose fanatics, but afterwards a great
T S
278 HISTOBY OF ENGLAOT).
CHAP, had been threatened; that two men of sinister appear-
^"^ ance had been watching the house where he lodged, and
lOsg. had been heard to say that they would use the dog as
he had used them. Mackenzie complained that he too
was in danger, and, with his usual copiousness and force
of language, demanded the protection of the Estates.
But the matter was lightly treated by the majority :
and the Convention passed on to other business.*
It was then announced that Crane was at the door of
the Parliament House. He was admitted. The paper
of which he was in charge was laid on the table. Ha-
milton remarked that there was, in the hands of the
Earl of Leven, a communication from the Prince by
whose authority the Estates had been convoked. That
communication seemed to be entitled to precedence.
The Convention was of the same opinion ; and the well
weighed and prudent letter of William was read.
It was then moved that the letter of James shoidd be
opened. The Whigs objected that it might possibly
contain a mandate dissolving the Convention. They
therefore proposed that, before the seal was broken, the
Estates should resolve to continue sitting, notwithstand-
ing any such mandate. The Jacobites, who knew no
more than the Whigs what was in the letter, and were
impatient to have it read, eagerly assented. A vote
was passed by which the members bound themselves
to consider any order which shoidd command them to
separate as a nullity, and to remain assembled till they
should have accomplished the work of securing the
liberty and religion of Scotland. This vote was signed
by almost aU the lords and gentlemen who were pre-
sent. Seven out of nine bishops subscribed it. The
names of Dundee and Balcarras, written by their own
* Balcarras*8 Memoirs. But the dates are not quite exact. He pro.
fullest account of these proceedings bably trusted to his memory for
is furnished by some manuscript them. I have corrected them from
notes which are in the library of the the Parliamentary Records.
Faculty of Advocates. Balcarras's
WILLIAM AND MABY. 279
hands, may still be seen on the original roll. Balcarras chap.
afterwards excused what, on his principles, was, beyond L
all dispute, a flagrant act of treason, by saying that he ^^^9*
and his friends had, from zeal for their master's interest,
concurred in a declaration of rebellion against their
master's authority ; that they had anticipated the most
salutary effects from the letter ; and that, if they had
not made some concession to the majority, the letter
would not have been opened.
In a few minutes the hopes of Balcarras were grievously Eflfect of
disappointed. The letter from which so much had been ^^r"
hoped and feared was read with all the honours which
Scottish Parliaments were in the habit of paying to
royal communications : but every word carried despair
to the hearts of the Jacobites. It was plain that
adversity had taught James neither wisdom nor mercy.
All was obstinacy, cruelty, insolence. A pardon was
promised to those traitors who should return to their
allegiance within a fortnight. Against all others un-
sparing vengeance was denoimced. Not only was no
sorrow expressed for past offences : but the letter was
itself a new offience : for it was written and counter-
signed by the apostate Melfort, who was, by the
statutes of the realm, incapable of holding the office of
Secretary, and who was not less abhorred by the Pro-
testant Tories than by the Whigs. The haU was in a
tumult. The enemies of James were loud and vehe-
ment. His friends, angry with hun, and ashamed of
him, saw that it was vain to think of continuing the
struggle in the Convention. Every vote which had
been doubtful when his letter was imsealed was now
irrecoverably lost. The sitting closed in great agi-
tation.*
♦ Act. Pari. Scot, Mar. 16. 168S; of the Estates of Scotland, 1689;
Balcarras'i Memoirs ; History of London Graz., Mar. 25. iGSQ ; Life
the late Revolution in Scotland, of James, ii. 342. Burnet blunders
1690 ; Account of the Proceedings strangely about these transactions.
T 4
280 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
CHAP. It was Saturday afternoon. There was to be no
L other meeting till Monday morning. The Jacobite
1689. leaders held a consultation, and came to the conclusion
that it was necessary to take a decided step. Dundee
and Balcarras must use the powers with which they
had been intrusted. The minority must forthwith
leave Edinlburgh and assemble at Stirling. Athol
assented, and undertook to bring a great body of his
clansmen from the Highlands to protect the delibera-
tions of the Royalist Convention. Every thing was
arranged for the secession; but, in a few hours, the
tardiness of one man and the haste of another ruined
the whole plan.
Plight of The Monday came. The Jacobite lords and gentle-
^^^^^ men were actually taking horse for Stirling, when Athol
asked for a delay of twenty four hours. He had no
personal reason to be in haste. By staying he ran no
risk of being assassinated. By going he incurred the
risks inseparable from civil war. The members of his
party, unwilling to separate from him, consented to the
postponement which he requested, and repaired once
more to the Parliament House. Dundee alone refused
to stay a moment longer. His life was in danger. The
Convention had refused to protect him. He woidd not
remain to be a mark for the pistols and daggers of
murderers. Balcarras expostiilated to no purpose.
" By departing alone," he said, " you will give the alarm
and break up the whole scheme." But Dundee was
obstinate. Brave as he undoubtedly was, he seems,
like many other brave men, to have been less proof
against the danger of assassination than against any
other form of danger. He knew what the hatred of the
Covenanters was : he knew how weU he had earned
their hatred ; and he was haunted by that conscious-
ness of inexpiable guilt, and by that dread of a terrible
retribution, which the ancient polytheists personified
under the awful name of the Furies. His old troopers,
WILLIAM AND MARY. 281
the Satans and Beelzebubs who had shared his crimes, chap.
and who now shared his perils, were ready to be the
companions of his flight. 1689.
Meanwhile the Convention had assembled. Mackenzie Tumui-
was on his legs, and was pathetically lamenting the hard tiilgo? '
condition of the Estates, at once commanded by the **»« Co«*-
•' yeiiuon.
guns of a fortress and menaced by a fanatical rabble,
when he was interrupted by some sentinels who came
running from the posts near the Castle. They had
seen Dundee at the head of fifty horse on the Stirling
road. That road ran close under the huge rock on
which the citadel is built. Gordon had appeared on
the ramparts, and had made a sign that he had some-
thing to say. Dundee had climbed high enough to
hear and to be heard, and was then actually conferring
with the Duke. Up to that moment the hatred with
which the Presbyterian members of the assembly re-
garded the merciless persecutor of their brethren in
the faith had been restrained by the decorous forms
of parliamentary deliberation. But now the explosion
was terrible. Hamilton himself, who, by the acknow-
ledgment of his opponents, had hitherto performed the
duties of President with gravity and impartiality, was
the loudest and fiercest man in the hall. " It is high
time," he cried, "that we should look to ourselves.
The enemies of our religion and of our civil freedom
are mustering all around us ; and we may well suspect
that they have accomplices even here. Lock the doors.
Lay the keys on the table. Let nobody go out but
those lords and gentlemen whom we shall appoint to
call the citizens to arms. There are some good men
from the West in Edinburgh, men for whom I can
answer." The assembly raised a general cry of assent.
Several members of the majority boasted that they too
had brought with them trusty retainers who would
turn out at a moment's notice against Claverhouse and
his dragoons. All that Hamilton proposed was in-
282 HISTORY OF BNGLAiro.
CHAP, stantly done. The Jacobites, silent and unresisting,
became prisoners. Leven went forth and ordered the
1689. drums to beat. The Covenanters of Lanarkshire and
Ayrshire promptly obeyed the signal. The force thus
assembled had indeed no very military appearance, but
was amply sufficient to overawe the adherents of the
House of Stuart. From Dundee nothing was to be
hoped or feared. He had already scrambled down the
Castle hill, rejoined his troopers, and galloped west-
ward. Hamilton now ordered the doors to be opened.
The suspected members were at liberty to depart.
Humbled and brokenspirited, yet glad that they had
come oflf so well, they stole forth through the crowd of
stem fanatics which filled the High Street. All thought
of secession was at an end.*
On the following day it was resolved that the king-
dom should be put into a posture of defence. The
preamble of this resolution contained a severe reflection
on the perfidy of the traitor who, within a few hours
after he had, by an engagement subscribed with his
own hand, bound himself not to quit his post in the
Convention, had set the example of desertion, and
given the signal of civil war. All Protestants, from
sixteen to sixty, were ordered to hold themselves in
readiness to assemble in arms at the first summons;
and, that none might pretend ignorance, it was directed
that the edict should be proclaimed at all the market
crosses throughout the realm.f
The Estates then proceeded to send a letter of thanks
to William. To this letter were attached the signatures
of many noblemen and gentlemen who were in the
interest of the banished King. The Bishops however
unanimously refused to subscribe their names.
It had long been the custom of the Parliaments of
♦ Balcarras's Memoirs; MS. in f Act. Pari. Scot, Mar. 1 9. 1 68 J;
the Library of the Faculty of Ail- History of the late Revolution in
▼ocates. Scotland, I69O.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 283
Scotland to entrust the preparation of Acts to a select chap.
number of members who were designated as the Lords
of the Articles. In conformity with this usage, the l^'^p.
business of framing a plan for the settling of the go- ^j^^'
vemment was now confided to a Committee of twenty pointed to
four. Of the twenty four eight were peers, eight re- pi^o^go-
presentatives of counties, and eight representatives of ^ernment.
towns. The majority of the Committee were Whigs ;
and not a single prelate had a seat.
The spirit of the Jacobites, broken by a succession of
disasters, was, about this time, for a moment revived by
the arrival of the Duke of Queensberry from London.
His rank was high : his influence was great : his cha-
racter, by comparison with the characters of those who
surrounded him, was fair. When Popery was in the as-
cendent, he had been true to the cause of the Protestant
Church ; and, since Whiggism had been in the ascendent,
he had been true to the cause of hereditary monarchy.
Some thought that, if he had been earlier in his place,
he might have been able to render important service to
the House of Stuart.* Even now the stimulants which
he applied to his torpid and feeble party produced some
faint symptoms of returning animation. Means were
found of commimicating with Gordon; and he was
earnestly solicited to fire on the city. The Jacobites
hoped that, as soon as the cannon balls had beaten
down a few chimneys, the Estates would adjourn to
Glasgow. Time would thus be gained; and the roy-
alists might be able to execute their old project of
meeting in a separate convention. Gordon however
positively refused to take on himself so grave a respon-
sibility on no better warrant than the request of a
small cabal.f
By this time the Estates had a guard on which they
could rely more firmly than on the undisciplined and
* Balcarras. f Ibid.
284 HISTOBY OF ENGLAin).
CHAP, turbulent Covenanters of the West. A squadron of
^^^^ English men of war from the Thames had arrived in
1689. the Frith of Forth. On board were the three Scottish
regiments which had accompanied William from Holland.
He had, with great judgment, selected them to protect the
assembly which was to settle the government of their
country ; and, that no cause of jealousy might be given
to a people exquisitely sensitive on points of national
honour, he had purged the ranks of all Dutch soldiers,
and had thus reduced the number of men to about
eleven hundred. This little force was commanded by
Andrew Mackay, a Highlander of noble descent, who
had served long on the Continent, and who was distin-
guished by courage of the truest temper, and by a piety
such as is seldom found in soldiers of fortune. The
Convention passed a resolution appointing Mackay ge-
neral of their forces. When the question was put on
this resolution, the Archbishop of Glasgow, unwilling
doubtless to be a party to such an usurpation of powers
which belonged to the King alone, begged that the
prelates might be excused from voting. Divines, he
said, had nothing to do with military arrangements.
" The Fathers of the Church," answered a member very
keenly, " have been lately favoured with a new light.
I have myself seen military orders signed by the Most
Reverend person who has suddenly become so scrupu-
lous. There was indeed one diflFerence: those orders
were for dragooning Protestants, and the resolution
before us is meant to protect us from Papists."*
The arrival of Mackay's troops, and the determira-
tion of Gordon to remain inactive, quelled the spirit of
the Jacobites. They had indeed one chance left. They
might possibly, by joining with those Whigs who were
bent on an union with England, have postponed during
a considerable time the settlement of the government.
• Act. Pari. Scot; History of the late Revolution, I69O; Memoirs of
North Britain, 1715.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 285
A negotiation was actually opened with this view, but chap.
was speedily broken off. For it soon appeared that the ^^^^
party which was for James was really hostile to the 1689.
union, and that the party which was for the union was
really hostile to James. As these two parties had no
object in common, the only eflFect of a coalition between
them must have been that one of them would have
become the tool of the other. The question of the
imion therefore was not raised.* Some Jacobites re-
tired to their country seats : others, though they re-
mained at Edinburgh, ceased to show themselves in the
Parliament House : many passed over to the winning
side ; and, when at length the resolutions prepared by
the Twenty Four were submitted to the Convention,
it appeared that the party which on the first day of
the session had rallied round Athol had dwindled
away to nothing.
The resolutions had been framed, as far as possible, Resoia-
in conformity with the example recently set at West- Jj^^^'
minster. In one important point, however, it was abso- the com-
lutely necessary that the copy should deviate from the ™*
original. The Estates of England had brought two
charges against James, his misgovemment and his
flight, and had, by using the soft word " Abdication,"
evaded, with some sacrifice of verbal precision, the
question whether subjects may lawfully depose a bad
prince. That question the Estates of Scotland could
not evade. They could not pretend that James had
deserted his post. For he had never, since he came to
the throne, resided in Scotland. During many years
that kingdom had been ruled by sovereigns who dwelt
in another land. The whole machinery of the admini-
stration had been constructed on the supposition that
the King would be absent, and was therefore not neces-
sarily deranged by that flight which had, in the south
of the island, dissolved all government, and suspended
* Balcarras.
28G nisTORT OF England.
CHAP, the ordinary course of justice. It was only by letter
^ '- that the King could, when he was at Whitehall, com-
1C89. municate with the Council and the Parliament at Edin-
burgh ; and by letter he could communicate with them
when he was at Saint Germains or at Dublin. The
Twenty Four were therefore forced to propose to the
Estates a resolution distinctly declaring that James the
Seventh had by his misconduct forfeited the crown.
Many writers have inferred from the language of this
resolution that sound political principles had made a
greater progress in Scotland than in England. But the
whole history of the two countries from the Restoration
to the Union proves this inference to be erroneous. The
Scottish Estates used plain language, simply because it
was impossible for them, situated as they were, to use
evasive language.
The person who bore the chief part in framing the
resolution, and in defending it, was Sir John Dalrjnnple,
who had recently held the high office of Lord Advocate,
and had been an accomplice in some of the misdeeds
which he now arraigned with great force of reasoning
and eloquence. lie was strenuously supported by Sir
James ilontgomery, member for Ayrshire, a man of
considerable abilities, but of loose principles, turbulent
temper, insatiable cupidity, and implacable malevolence.
The Archbishop of Glasgow and Sir George Mackenzie
spoke on the other side : but the only effect of their
oratory was to deprive their party of the advantage of
being able to allege that the Estates were under duress,
and that liberty of speech had been denied to the de
fenders of hereditary monarchy.
TVTien the question was put, Athol, Queensberry, and
some of their friends withdrew. Only five members
voted against the resolution which pronounced that
James had forfeited his right to the alle^ance of his
subjects. Wlien it was moved that the Crown of
Scotland should be settled as the Crown of England
WILLIAM AND MARY. 287
had been settled, Athol and Queensbeny reappeared chap.
in the hall. They had doubted, they said, whether ^^^^'
they could justifiably declare the throne vacant. But, 1689.
since it had been declared vacant, they felt no doubt
that William and Mary were the persons who ought to
fiUit.
The Convention then went forth in procession to the Wiuiam
High Street. Several great nobles, attended by the ^j^Mary
Lord Provost of the capital and by the heralds, ascended claimed,
the octagon tower from which rose the city cross sur-
mounted by the unicorn of Scotland.* Hamilton read
the vote of the Convention ; and a King at Arms pro-
claimed the new Sovereigns with sound of trumpet.
On the same day the Estates issued an order that the
parochial clergy should, on pain of deprivation, publish
from their pulpits the proclamation which had just been
read at the city cross, and should pray for King William
and Queen Mary.
Still the interregniun was not at an end. Though The aaim
the new Sovereigns had been proclaimed, they had not ®'^*8^**
yet been put into possession of the royal authority by a
formal tender and a formal acceptance. At Edinburgh,
as at Westminster, it was thought necessary that the
instrument which settled the government should clearly
define and solemnly assert those privileges of the people
which the Stuarts had illegally infringed. A Claim of
Right was therefore drawn up by the Twenty Four, and
adopted by the Convention. To this Claim, which pur-
ported to be merely declaratory of the law as it stood,
was added a supplementary paper containing a list of
grievances which could be remedied only by new laws.
One most important article which we should natu- Abolition
rally expect to find at the head of such a list, the Con- ^^^'^
vention, with great practical prudence, but in defiance
* Every reader wUl remember mion, pronounced on the dunces
the malediction which Sir Walter who removed this interesting mo-
Scott^ in the Fifth Canto of Mar- nument.
288 HISTOBY OF EKGLAin).
CHAP, of notorious facts and of unanswerable arguments,
^^^' placed in the Claim of Right. Nobody could deny that
1689. prelacy was established by Act of Parliament. The
power exercised by the Bishops might be pernicious,
unscriptural, antichristian : but illegal it certainly was
not; and to pronounce it illegal was to outrage common
sense. The Whig leaders however were much more de-
sirous to get rid of episcopacy than to prove themselves
consummate publicists and logicians. If they made the
abolition of episcopacy an article of the contract by
which William was to hold the crown, they attained
their end, though doubtless in a manner open to much
criticism. If, on the other hand, they contented them-
selves with resolving that episcopacy was a noxious
institution which at some future time the legislature
would do well to abolish, they might find that their
resolution, though unobjectionable in form, was barren
of consequences. They knew that William by no means
sympathized with their dislike of Bishops, and that^
even had he been much more zealous for the Calvin-
istic model than he was, the relation in which he stood
to the Anglican Church would make it difficult and
dangerous for liim to declare himself hostile to a funda-
mental part of the constitution of that Church. If he
should become King of Scotland without being fettered
by any pledge on this subject, it might well be appre-
hended that he would hesitate about passing an Act
wliich would be regarded with abhorrence by a large
body of his subjects in the south of the island. It was
therefore most desirable that the question should be
settled while the throne was stiU vacant. In this
opinion many politicians concurred, who had no dislike
to rochets and mitres, but who wished that William
might have a quiet and prosperous reign. The Scot-
tish people, — so these men reasoned, — hated episcopacy.
The English loved it. To leave William any voice in
the matter was to put him under the necessity of deeply
WILLIAM AND MARY. 289
wounding the strongest feelings of one of the nations chap.
which he governed. It was therefore plainly for his own "^
interest that the question, which he could not settle in any ^ ^^^•
manner without incurring a fearfiil amount of obloquy,
should be settled for him by others who were exposed
to no such danger. He was not yet Sovereign of Scot-
land. While the interregnum lasted, the supreme power
belonged to the Estates ; and for what the Estates might
do the prelatists of his southern kingdom could not hold
him responsible. The elder Dalrymple wrote strongly
from London to this effect; and there can be little doubt
that he expressed the sentiments of his master. William
would have sincerely rejoiced if the Scots could have .
been reconciled to a modified episcopacy. But, since
that could not be, it was manifestly desirable that they
should themselves, while there was yet no King over
them, pronounce the irrevocable doom of the institution
which they abhorred.*
The Convention, therefore, with little debate as it
should seem, inserted in the Claim of Right a clause
declaring that prelacy was an insupportable burden to
the kingdom, that it had been long odious to the body
of the people, and that it ought to be abolished.
Nothing in the proceedings at Edinburgh astonishes Torture,
an Englishman more than the manner in which the
Estates dealt with the practice of torture. In England
torture had always been illegal. In the most servile
times the judges had imanimously pronounced it so.
Those rulers who had occasionally resorted to it had, as
far as was possible, used it in secret, had never pre-
tended that they had acted in conformity with either
statute law or common law, and had excused themselves
by saying that the extraordinary peril to which the
• " It will be neither Becoir nor door." — Dalrymple to Melville, 5
kynd to the King to expect it be April, 1689; Leven and Melville
(by) Act of Parliament after the Papers,
aetlement, which will lay it at his
VOL. III. U
290 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, state was exposed had forced them to take on them-
^'^ selves the responsibility of employing extraordinary
1689. means of defence. It had therefore never been thought
necessary by any En^sh Parliament to pass any Act or
resolution touching this matter. The torture was not
mentioned in the Petition of Right, or in any of the
statutes framed by the Long Parliament. No mem-
ber of the Convention of 1689 dreamed of proposing
that the instrument which called the Prince and Prin-
cess of Orange to the throne shoiild contain a decla-
ration against the using of racks and thumbscrews
for the purpose of forcing prisoners to accuse them-
selves. Such a declaration would have been justly re-
garded as weakening rather than strengthening a rule
which, as far back as the days of the Plantagenets, had
been proudly declared by the most illustrious sages
of Westminster Hall to be a distinguishing feature of
the English jurisprudence.* In the Scottish Glaun of
Right, the use of torture, without evidence, or in ordi-
nary cases, was declared to be contrary to law. The
use of torture, therefore, where there was strong evi-
dence, and where the crime was extraordinary, was,
by the plainest implication, declared to be according
to law ; nor did the Estates mention the use of tor-
ture among the grievances which required a legisla-
tive remedy. In truth, they could not condemn the
use of torture without condemning themselves. It had
chanced that, while they were employed in settling the
government, the eloquent and learned Lord President
Lockhart had been foully murdered in a public street
through which he was returning from church on a
Sunday. The murderer was seized, and proved to
be a wretch who, having treated his wife barbarously
and turned her out of doors, had been compelled by a
decree of the Court of Session to provide for her. A
savage hatred of the Judges by whom she had been
* There is a striking passage on this suhject in Fortescae.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 291
protected had taken possession of his mind, and had chap.
goaded him to a horrible crime and a horrible fate. It ^"^'
vras natural that an assassination attended by so many 16*89.
circumstances of aggravation should move the indig-
nation of the members of the Convention. Yet they
should have considered the gravity of the conjuncture
and the importance of their own mission. They unfor-
tunately, in the heat of passion, directed the magistrates
of Edinburgh to strike the prisoner in the boots, and
named a Committee to superintend the operation. But
for this unhappy event, it is probable that the law of
Scotland concerning torture would have been imme-
diately assimilated to the law of England.*
Having settled the Claim of Right, the Convention
proceeded to revise the Coronation oath. When this
had been done, three members were appointed to carry
the Instrument of Government to London. Argyle,
though not, in strictness of law, a Peer, was chosen to
represent the Peers: Sir James Montgomery repre-
sented the Commissioners of Shires, and Sir John Dal-
rymple the Commissioners of Towns.
The Estates then adjourned for a few weeks, having
first passed a vote which empowered Hamilton to take
such measures as might be necessary for the preserv-
ation of the public peace till the end of the inter-
regnum.
The ceremony of the inauguration was distinguished Wdiiam
£ix)m ordinary pageants by some highly interesting ^ce^ule
circumstances. On the eleventh of May the three Com- ^^^f
missioners came to the Council Chamber at Whitehall,
and thence, attended by almost all the Scotchmen of
note who were then in London, proceeded to the Ban-
queting House. There William and Mary appeared
seated under a canopy. A splendid circle of English
nobles and statesmen stood round the throne : but the
•Act Pari. Scot, April 1.1689; May 16. 1689; London Gazette,
Orden of Committee of Estates, April 11.
u 2
292 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Bword of State was conmutted to a Scotch lord; and the
^^^^' oath of office was admmistered after the Scotch &shion.
1689. Argyle recited the words slowly. The royal pair, hold-
ing up their hands towards heaven, repeated after him
till they came to the last clause. There William paused.
That clause contained a promise that he woiild root out
all heretics and all enemies of the true worship of God ;
and it was notorious that, in the opinion of many
Scotchmen, not only all Roman Catholics, but all Pro-
testant Episcopalians, all Independents, Baptists and
Quakers, all Lutherans, nay all British Presbyterians
who did not hold themselves bound by the Solenm
League and Covenant, were enemies of the true wor-
ship of God. * The King had apprised the Commis-
sioners that he could not take this part of the oath
without a distinct and public explanation; and they
had been authorised by the Convention to give such an
explanation as would satisfy him. "I will not," he
now said, "lay myself under any obligation to be a
persecutor." "Neither the words of this oath," said
one of the Conmiissioners, " nor the laws of Scotland,
lay any such obligation on your Majesty." "In that
* As It has lately been denied sectaries^ to join with whom were
that the extreme Presbyterians en- repugnant to the testimony of the
tertained an unfavourable opinion of Church of Scotland.** In the Pro-
the Lutherans, I will give two deci« testation and Testimony drawn up
siveproofsof the truth of what I have on the 2nd of October 1707^ the
asserted in the text. In the book United Societies complain that the
entitled Faithful Contendings Dis- crown has been settled on '' the
played is a report of what passed Prince of Hanover, who has been
at the General Meeting of the United bred and brought up in the Lu-
Societies of Covenanters on the 24th theran religion, which is not only
of October I688. The question was different from, but even in many
propounded whether there should be things contrary unto that purity in
an association with the Dutch. " It doctrine, reformation, and religion,
was concluded unanimously," says we in these nations had attained
the Clerk of the Societies, " tliat we unto, as is very well known." They
could not have an association with add : *^ The admitting such a per-
the Dutch in one body, nor come son to reign over us is not only con-
formally under their conduct, being trary to our solemn League and
such a promiscuous conjunction of Covenant, but to the very word of
reforme<l Lutheran malignants and God itself, Deut. xviL"
of the Co-
Yenanten.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 293
sense, then, I swear," said William ; "and I desire you chap.
all, my lords and gentlemen, to witness that I do so." ^^^^
Even his detractors have generally admitted that on 1689.
this great occasion he acted with uprightness, dignity,
and wisdom.*
As King of Scotland, he soon found himself embar- Discontent
rassed at every step by all the difficulties which had
embarrassed him as King of England, and by other
difficulties which in England were happily unknown.
In the north of the island, no class was more dissa-
tisfied with the Revolution than the class which owed
most to the Revolution. The manner in which the
Convention had decided the question of ecclesiastical
polity had not been more offensive to the Bishops
themselves than to those fiery Covenanters who had
long, in defiance of sword and carbine, boot and gibbet,
worshipped their Maker after their own fashion in
caverns and on mountain tops. Was there ever, these
zealots exclaimed, such a halting between two opinions,
such a compromise between the Lord and Baal? The
Estates ought to have said that episcopacy was an abo-
mination in Grod^s sight, and that, in obedience to his
word, and from fear of his righteous judgment, they
were determined to deal with this great national sin
and scandal after the fashion of those saintly rulers who
of old cut down the groves and demolished the altars
of Chemosh and Astarte. Unhappily, Scotland was
ruled, not by pious Josiahs, but by careless Gallios.
The antichristian hierarchy was to be abolished, not
because it was an insult to heaven, but because it was
felt as a burden on earth ; not because it was hatefiil to
the great Head of the Church, but because it was hate-
ful to the people. Was public opinion, then, the test of
* History of the late Revolution Royal Diary, 1702. The writer of
in Scotland ; London Gazette> May this work professes to have derived
16. 1689. The official account of his information from a divine who
what passed was evidently drawn was present,
up wiUi great caie. See aUo the
294 mSTOBT OF ENGLAin).
CHAP, right and wrong in religion? Was not the order which
L Christ had established in his own house to be held
1689. equally sacred in all countries and through all ages?
And was there no reason for following that order in
Scotland except a reason which might be urged with
equal force for maintaining Prelacy in England, Popery
in Spain, and Mahometanism in Turkey? Why, too,
was nothing said of those Covenants wluch the nation
had so generally subscribed and so generally violated?
Why was it not distinctly affirmed that the promises
set down in those rolls were still binding, and would to
the end of time be binding, on the kingdom? Were
these truths to be suppressed from regard for the feel
ings and interests of a prince who was all things to
all men, an ally of the idolatrous Spaniard and of the
Lutheran Dane, a presbyterian at the Hague and a
prelatist at Whitehall? He, like Jehu in ancient times,
had doubtless so far done well that he had been the
scourge of the idolatrous House of Ahab. But he, like
Jehu, had not taken heed to walk in the divine law
with his whole heart, but had tolerated and practised
impieties differing only in degree from those of which
he had declared himself the enemy. It would have
better become godly senators to remonstrate with him
on the sin which he was committing by conforming to
the Anglican ritual, and by maintaining the Anglican
Church government, than to flatter him by using a
phraseology which seemed to indicate that they were as
deeply tainted with Erastianism as himself. Many of
those who held this language refased to do any act
which could be construed into a recognition of the new
Sovereigns, and would rather have been fired upon by
files of musketeers or tied to stakes within low water
mark than have uttered a prayer that God would bless
William and Mary.
Ministerial Yet the King had less to fear from the pertina-
m^te^in cious adherence of these men to their absurd principles,
Scofland. than ffom the ambition and avarice of another set of
WILLIAM AND MAKY. 295
men who had no principles at all. It was necessary chap.
that he should mimediately name ministers to con- ^^^^'
duct the government of Scotland : and, name whom ^^^S-
he might, he could not fail to disappoint and irritate
a multitude of expectants. Scotland was one of the
least wealthy countries in Europe: yet no country in
Europe contained a greater number of clever and self-
ish politicians. The places in the gift of the Crown
were not enough to satisfy one twentieth part of the
placehunters, every one of whom thought that his own
services had been preeminent, and that, whoever might
be passed by, he ought to be remembered. William
did his best to satisfy these innumerable and insatiable
claimants by putting many offices into commission.
There were however a few great posts which it was
impossible to divide. Hamilton was declared Lord Hamilton.
High Commissioner, in the hope that immense pecu-
niary allowances, a residence in Holyrood Palace, and
a pomp and dignity little less than regal, would con-
tent him. The Earl of Crawford was appointed Presi- Crawford.
dent of the Parliament ; and it was supposed that this
appointment would conciliate the rigid Presbyterians:
for Crawford was what they called a professor. His
letters and speeches are, to use his own phraseology,
exceeding savoury. Alone, or ahnost alone, among
the prominent politicians of that time, he retained the
style which had been fashionable in the preceding ge-
neration. He had a text of the Old Testament ready
for every occasion. He filled his despatches with al-
lusions to Ishmael and Hagar, Hannah and Eli, Elijah,
Nehemiah, and Zerubbabel, and adorned his oratory
with quotations from Ezra and Haggai. It is a cir-
cumstance strikingly characteristic of the man, and of
the school in which he had been trained, that, in all
the mass of his writing which has come down to us,
there is not a single word indicating that he had ever
in his life heard of the New Testament. !Elven in our
u 4
296
HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP.
XIII.
1689.
TheDal-
rymples.
Lockhart
Mont-
gomery.
own time some persons of a peculiar taste have been
so much delight^ by the rich unction of his eloquence,
that they have confidently pronounced him a saint. To
those whose habit is to judge of a man rather by his
actions than by his words, Crawford will appear to
have been a selfish, cruel politician, who was not at all
the dupe of his own cant, and whose zeal against epi-
scopal government was not a little whetted by his desire
to obtain a grant of episcopal domains. In excuse
for his greediness, it ought to be said that he was the
poorest noble of a poor nobility, and that before the
Revolution he was sometimes at a loss for a meal and
a suit of clothes.*
The ablest of Scottish politicians and debaters. Sir
John Dalrymple, was appointed Lord Advocate. His
father, Sir James, the greatest of Scottish jurists, was
placed at the head of the Court of Session. Sir Wil-
liam Lockhart, a man whose letters prove him to have
possessed considerable ability, became Solicitor GeneraL
Sir James Montgomery had flattered himself that he
should be the chief minister. He had distinguished
himself highly in the Convention. He had been one
of the Commissioners who had tendered the Crown and
administered the oath to the new Sovereigns. In par-
liamentary ability and eloquence he had no superior
* See Crawford's Letters and
Speeches^ passim. His style of
begging for a place was peculiar.
After owning^ not without reason^
that his heart was deceitful and
desperately wicked, he proceeded
thus : " The same Omnipotent Being
who hath said, when the poor and
needy seek water and there is none,
sTid their tongue faileth for thirst,
he will not forsake them ; notwith-
standing of my present low condi-
tion, can build me a house if He
think fit." — Letter to Melville, of
May 28. l689. As to Crawford's
poverty and his passion for Bishops*
lands, see his letter to Melville of the
4th of December I69O. As to his
humanity, see his letter to Melville,
Dec. 11. 1690. All these letters
are among the Leven and Melville
Papers. The author of An Ac-
count of the Late Establishment of
Presbyterian Government says of
a person who had taken a bribe
of ten or twelve pounds, " Had he
been as poor as my ]Lord Crawford,
perhaps he had been the more
excusable.*' See also the dedica*
tion of the celebrated tract entitled
Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence Dis-
played.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 297
among his countrymen, except the new Lord Advocate, chap.
The Secretaryship was, not indeed in dignity, but in ^"^
real power, the highest office in the Scottish govern- 1^89.
ment; and this office was the reward to which Mont-
gomery thought himself entitled. But the Episcopalians
and the moderate Presbyterians dreaded him as a man
of extreme opinions and of bitter spirit. He had been
a chief of the Covenanters: he had been prosecuted
at one time for holding conventicles, and at another
time for harbouring rebels : he had been fined : he had
been imprisoned: he had been almost driven to take
refuge from his enemies beyond the Atlantic in the in-
fent settlement of New Jersey. It was apprehended
that, if he were now armed with the whole power of the
Crown, he would exact a terrible retribution for what
he had suffered.* William therefore preferred Melville, MeWiiie.
who, though not a man of eminent talents, was regarded
by the Presbyterians as a thoroughgoing friend, and
yet not regarded by the Episcopalians as an implaca-
ble enemy. Melville fixed his residence at the English
Court, and became the regular organ of communication
between Kensington and the authorities at Edinburgh.
William had, however, one Scottish adviser who de-
served and possessed more influence than any of the
ostensible ministers. This was Carstairs, one of the most Cawtaira.
remarkable men of that age. He united great scholastic
attainments with great aptitude for civil business, and
the firm fiuth and ardent zeal of a martyr with the
shrewdness and suppleness of a consummate politician.
In courage and fidelity he resembled Burnet; but he
had, what Burnet wanted, judgment, selfcommand, and
a singular power of keeping secrets. There was no post
to which he might not have aspired if he had been a
layman, or a priest of the Church of England. But a
• Burnet, ii. 23, 34. ; FounUin- 1689, in the Leven and Melville
hall Papers, 15. Aug. 1684; 14. Papers; Pretences of the French
and 15. Oct. l684; S. May, 1685; Invasion Examined; licensed May
Montgomery to Melville, June 23. 25. 1692.
298 HISTOBY OV JSSQLASD.
CHAP. Presbyterian clergyman could not hope to attain any
. high dignity either in the north or in the south of the
1689. island. Carstairs was forced to content himself with
the substance of power, and to leave the semblance to
others* He was named Chaplain to their Majesties for
Scotland ; but wherever the King was, in England, in
Ireland, in the Netherlands, there was this most trusty
and most prudent of courtiers. He obtained from the
royal bounty a modest competence; and he desired no
more. But it was well known that he could be as
useful a friend and as formidable an enemy as any
member of the cabinet; and he was designated at the
public offices and in the antechambers of the palace by
the significant nickname of the Cardinal.*
The aub To Montgomery was offered the place of Lord Jus-
Anaim- ^^^^ Clcrk. But that place, though high and honour-
dale; Ross, able, he thought below his merits and his capacity;
and he returned from London to Scotland with a heart
ulcerated by hatred of his ungrateful master and of his
successful rivals. At Edinburgh a knot of Whigs, as
severely disappointed as himself by the new arrange-
ments, readily submitted to the guidance of so bold and
able a leader. Under his direction these men, among
whom the Earl of Annandale and Lord Ross were the
most conspicuous, formed themselves into a society
called the Club, appointed a clerk, and met daily at a
tavern to concert plans of opposition. Round this nu-
cleus soon gathered a great body of greedy and angry
politicians.! With these dishonest malecontents, whose
object was merely to annoy the government and to get
places, were leagued other malecontents, who, in the
• See the Life and Correspondence Presbyterian. I believe^ however,
of Carstairs, and the interesting that Carstairs, though an honest and
memorials of him in the Caldwell pious man in essentials, had his full
Papers, printed 1854. See also share of the wisdom of the serpent.
Mackay*s character of him, and f Sir John Dalrymple to Lord
Swift's note. Swift's word is not to Mclyille, June 18. 20. 25. l6S9;
be taken against a Scotchman and a Lcvcn and Melville Papers.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 299
course of a long resistance to tyranny, had become so chap.
perverse and irritable that they were unable to live con- ^^^
tentedly even under the mildest and most constitutional i689«
government. Such a man was Sir Patrick Hume. He Home;
had returned from exile, as litigious, as impracticable,
as morbidly jealous of all superior authority, and as
fond of haranguing, as he had been four years before,
and was as much bent on making a merely nominal
sovereign of William as he had formerly been bent on
making a merely nominal general of Argyle.* A man
far superior morally and intellectually to Hume, Flet- Fletcher of
cher of Saltoun, belonged to the same party. Though ^^^
not a member of the Convention, he was a most active
member of the Club, f He hated monarchy : he hated
democracy: his fiivourite project was to make Scotland
an oligarchical republic. The King, if there must be
a King, was to be a mere pageant. The lowest class
of the people were to be bondmien. The whole power,
legislative and executive, was to be in the hands of the
Parliament. In other words, the country was to be ab-
solutely governed by a hereditary -aristocracy, the most
needy, the most haughty, and the most quarrelsome in
Eur(^)e. Under such a polity there could have been nei-
ther freedom nor tranquillity. Trade, industry, science,
would have languished ; and Scotland would have been
a smaller Poland, with a puppet sovereign, a turbulent
diet, and an enslaved people. With unsuccessful can-
didates for office, and with honest but wrongheaded
republicans, were mingled politicians whose course was
determined merely by fear. Many sycophants, who
were conscious that they had, in the evil time, done
* There is an amusing descrip- f " No mtm, though not a roem-
tion of Sir Patrick in the Hynd- her^ busier than Saltoun." — Lock-
ford MS, written about 1704, and hart to Melville, July 11. 1689;
printed among the Carstairs Papers. Leven and Melville Papers. See
''He is a lover of set speeches, and Fletcher's own works, and the de-
can hardly give audience to private scriptions of him in Lockhart's and
friends without them.** Mackay's Memoirs.
300
niSTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP.
XIIL
1689.
War
breaks oat
in the
Highlands.
State of
the High-
lands.
what deserved punishment, were desirous to make their
peace with the powerful and vindictive Club, and were
glad to be permitted to atone for their servility to
James by their opposition to WiUiam.* The great body
of Jacobites meanwhile stood aloo^ saw with delight
the enemies of the House of Stuart divided against
one another, and indulged the hope that the concision
would end in the restoration of the banished king.f
While Montgomery was labouring to form out of
various materials a party which might, when the Con-
vention should reassemble, be powerful enough to dic-
tate to the throne, an enemy still more formidable
than Montgomery had set up the standard of civil war
in a region about which the politicians of Westminster,
and indeed most of the politicians of Edinburgh, knew
no more than about Abyssinia or Japan.
It is not easy for a modem Englishman, who can
pass in a day from his club in St. James's Street to his
shooting box among the Grampians, and who finds in
his shooting box all the comforts and luxuries of his
club, to believe that, in the time of his greatgrand-
fathers, St. James's Street had as little connection with
the Grampians as with the Andes. Yet so it was. In
the south of our island scarcely any thing was known
about the Celtic part of Scotland; and what was known
excited no feeling but contempt and loathing. The
crags and the glens, the woods and the waters, were
indeed the same that now swarm every autumn with
admiring gazers and sketchers. The Trosachs wound
as now between gigantic walls of rock tapestried with
broom and wild roses: Foyers came headlong down
through the birchwood with the same leap and the
same roar with which he still rushes to Loch Ness ;
and, in defiance of the sun of June, the snowy scalp of
* Dalrymple says, in a letter of Club ; and they all vote alike.'
the 5th of June *'A11 the malig- f Balcarras.
nants, for fear, are come into the
WILLIAM AND MARY. 301
Ben Cruachan rose, as it still rises, over the willowy chap.
islets of Loch Awe. Yet none of these sights had ^^'^'
power, till a recent period, to attract a single poet or 1689.
painter from more opulent and more tranquil regions.
Indeed, law and police, trade and industry, have done
far more than people of romantic dispositions will
readily admit, to develope in our minds a sense of the
wilder beauties of nature. A traveller must be freed
from all apprehension of being murdered or starved
before he can be charmed by the bold outlines and rich
tints of the hills. He is not likely to be thrown into
ecstasies by the abruptness of a precipice from which
he is in imminent danger of falling two thousand feet
perpendicular ; by the boiling waves of a torrent which
suddenly whirls aways his baggage and forces him to
run for his life ; by the gloomy grandeur of a pass where
he finds a corpse which marauders have just stripped
and mangled ; or by the screams of those eagles whose
next meal may probably be on his own eyes. About the
year 1730, Captain Burt, one of the first Englishmen
who caught a glimpse of the spots which now allure
tourists from every part of the civilised world, wrote an
account of his wanderings. He was evidently a man
of a quick, an observant, and a cultivated mind, and
would doubtless, had he lived in our age, have looked
with mingled awe and delight on the mountains of
Invemeasshire. But, writing with the feeling which
was universal in his own age, he pronounced those
mountains monstrous excrescences. Their deformity,
he said, was such that the most sterile plains seemed
lovely by comparison. Fine weather, he complained,
only made bad worse; for, the clearer the day, the
more disagreeably did those misshapen masses of gloomy
brown and dirty purple affect the eye. What a con-
trast, he exclauned, between these horrible prospects
and the beauties of Richmond Hill!* Some persons
* Captain Burt's Letters from Scotland.
802 HISTOBY OF ENQLAKD.
CHAP, may think that Burt was a man of vulgar andprosaical
mind : but they will scarcely venture to pass a similar
1689. judgment on Oliver Goldsmith. Goldsmith was one
of the very few Saxons who, more than a century ago,
ventured to explore the Highlands. He was disgusted
by the hideous wilderness, and declared that he greatly
preferred the charming country round Leyden, the vaat
expanse of verdant meadow, and the villas with their
statues and grottoes, trim flower beds, and rectilinear
avenues. Yet it is difficult to believe that the author of
the Traveller and of the Deserted Village was naturally
inferior in taste and sensibility to the thousands of
clerks and milliners who are now thrown into raptures
by the sight of Loch Katrine and Loch Lomond.* His
feelings may easily be explained. It was not till roads
had been cut out of the rocks, till bridges had been
flung over the courses of the rivulets, till inns had suc-
ceeded to dens of robbers, till there was as little danger
of being slain or plundered in the wildest defile of
Badenoch or Lochaber as in Comhill, that strangers
could be enchanted by the blue dimples of the lakes and
by the rainbows which overhung the waterfalls, and
could derive a solemn pleasure even from the douds
and tempests which lowered on the mountain tops.
The change in the feeling with which the Lowlanders
regarded the Highland scenery was closely connected
* ^^ Shall I tire you with a de- '' I was wholly taken up in obserring
scription of this unfruitful country, the face of the country. Nothing
where I must lead you over their can equal its beauty. Wlierever I
hills all brown with heath, or their turned my eye, fine houses, d^ant
valleys scarce able to feed a rabbit, gardens, statues, grottos, vistas pre-
• • • £very part of the country sented themselyes. Scotland and
presents the same dismal landscape, this country bear the highest con-
No grove or brook lend their music trast : there, hills and rocks inter-
to cheer the stranger." — Goldsmith cept every prospect ; here it is all a
to Bryanton, Edinburgh, Sept. 26. continued plain." See Appendix C.
1753. In a letter written soon to the First Volume of Mr. Forster's
after from Leyden to the Reverend Life of Goldsmith.
Thomas Contarine, Goldsmith says,
WILLIAM AND KARY. 303
with a change not less I'emarkable in the feeling with chap.
which they regarded the Highland race. It is not ^ ^
strange that the Wild Scotch, as they were sometimes 1689.
called^ should, in the seventeenth century, have been
considered by the Saxons as mere savages. But it is
surely strange that, considered as savages, they should
not have been objects of interest and curiosity. The
English were then abundantly inquisitive about the
manners of rude nations separated from our island by
great continents and oceans. Numerous books were
printed describing the laws, the superstitions, the cabins,
the repasts, the dresses, the marriages, the funerals of
Laplanders and Hottentots, Mohawks and Malays.
The plays and poems of that age are full of allusions
to the usages of the black men of Africa and of the
red men of America. The only barbarian about whom
there was no wish to have any information was the
Highlander. Five or six years after the Revolution,
an indefatigable angler published an account of Scot-
land. He boasted that, in the course of his rambles
from lake to lake, and from brook to brook, he had left
scarcely a nook of the kingdom unexplored. But, when
we examine his narrative, we find that he had never
ventured beyond the extreme skirts of the Celtic region.
He tells us that even from the people who lived close
to the passes he could learn little or nothing about the
Gaelic population. Few Englishmen, he says, had ever
seen Inverary. All beyond Inverary was chaos.* In
the reign of George the First, a work was published
which professed to give a most exact account of Scot-
land; and in this work, consisting of more than three
hundred pages, two contemptuous paragraphs were
* Northern Memoirs, by R. the creation left undressed ; rubbish
Franck Philanthropus, 1694. The thrown aside when the magnificent
author had caught a few gUropses fabric of the world was created ; as
of Hif^land scenery, and speaks of void of form as the natives are
it much as Burt spoke in the follow- indigent of morals and good man-
ing generation : ** It is a part of ners.**
304 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, thought sufficient for the Highlands and the High-
landers.* We may well doubt whether, in 1689, one in
1689. twenty of the well read gentlemen who assembled at
Will's coffeehouse knew that, within the four seas, and
at the distance of less than five hundred miles from
London, were many miniature courts, in each of which
a petty prince, attended by guards, by armour bearers,
by musicians, by a hereditary orator, by a hereditary
poet laureate, kept a rude state, dispensed a rude jus-
tice, waged wars, and concluded treaties. While the
old Graelic institutions were in full vigour, no account
of them was given by any observer, qualified to judge
of them fairly. Had such an observer studied the cha-
racter of the Highlanders, he would doubtless have
found in it closely intermingled the good and the bad
qualities of an uncivilised nation. He would have
found that the people had no love for their country or
for their king; that they had no attachment to any
commonwealth larger than the clan, or to any magis-
trate superior to the chief. He would have found that
life was governed by a code of morality and honour
widely different from that which is established in peace-
ful and prosperous societies. He would have learned
that a stab in the back, or a shot from behind a frag-
ment of rock, were approved modes of taking satisfiiction
for insults. He would have heard men relate boastftdly
how they or their fathers had wreaked on hereditary
enemies in a neighbouring valley such vengeance as
would have made old soldiers of the Thirty Years' War
shudder. He would have found that robbery was held
to be a calling, not merely innocent, but honourable.
He would have seen, wherever he turned, that dislike
of steady industry, and that disposition to throw on the
weaker sex the heaviest part of manual labour, which
are characteristic of savages. He would have been
* Journey through Scotland^ hy the author of the Journey through
England, 1723.
WILLIAAI AND MAKY. 305
struck by the spectacle of athletic men basking in the chap.
sun, angling for salmon, or taking aim at grouse, while 1
their aged mothers, their pregnant wives, their tender ^^^9-
daughters, were reaping the scanty harvest of oats. Nor
did the women repine at their hard lot. In their view it
was quite fit that a man, especially if he assumed the ari-
stocratic title of Duinhe Wassel and adorned his bonnet
with the eagle's feather, should take his ease, except when
he was fighting, hunting, or marauding. To mention the
name of such a man in connection with commerce or
with any mechanical art was an insult. Agriculture
was indeed less despised. Yet a highborn warrior was
much more becomingly employed in plundering the
land of others than in tilling his own. The religion of
the greater part of the Highlands was a rude mixture
of Popery and Paganism. The symbol of redemption
was associated with heathen sacrifices and incantations.
Baptized men poured libations of ale to one Daemon,
and set out drink oflFerings of milk for another. Seers
wrapped themselves up in bulls' hides, and awaited, in
that vesture, the inspiration which was to reveal the
future. Even among those minstrels and genealogists
whose hereditary vocation was to preserve the memory of
past events, an enquirer would have foimd very few who
could read. In truth, he might easily have journeyed
from sea to sea without discovering a page of Gaelic
printed or written. The price which he would have had
to pay for his knowledge of the coimtry would have been
heavy. He would have had to endure hardships as
great as if he had sojourned among the Esquimaux or
the Samoyeds. Here and there, indeed, at the castle
of some great lord who had a seat in the Parliament
and Privy Council, and who was accustomed to pass
a large part of his life in the cities of the South, might
have been found wigs and embroidered coats, plate and
fine linen, lace and jewels, French dishes and French
wines. But, in general, the traveller would have been
VOL. ni. X
306 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, forced to content himself with very different quarters.
^^^^' In many dwellings the furniture, the food, the clothing,
16'89. nay the very hair and skin of his hosts, would have put
his philosophy to the proof. His lodging would some-
times have been in a hut of which every nook would
have swarmed with vermin. He would have inhaled
an atmosphere thick with peat smoke, and foul with
a hundred noisome exhalations. At supper grain fit
only for horses would have been set before him, ac-
companied by a cake of blood drawn from living cows.
Some of the company with which he would have feasted
would have been covered with cutaneous eruptions, and
others would have been smeared with tar like sheep.
His couch would have been the bare earth, dry or wet
as the weather might be ; and from that couch he would
have risen half poisoned with stench, half blind with the
reek of turf, and half mad with the itch.*
This is not an attractive picture. And yet an en-
lightened and dispassionate observer would have found
in the character and manners of this rude people some-
thing which might well excite admiration and a good
hope. Their courage was what great exploits achieved
in all the four quarters of the globe have since proved
it to be. Their intense attachment to their own tribe
and to their own patriarch, though politically a great
evil, partook of the nature of virtue. The sentiment
was misdirected and ill regulated ; but still it was he-
roic. There must be some elevation of soul in a man
who loves the society of which he is a member and the
leader whom he follows with a love stronger than the
love of life. It was true that the Highlander had few
scruples about shedding the blood of an enemy : but it
was not less true that he had high notions of the duty
* Almost all. these circumstances land Host" he says:
are taken from Burt's Letters. For u tu^ «...^ ;. ♦i.^-*^ -^^.-^ ^^u *
. ^ _ . J u^ J A oi 1 i» ^® reason is, they're smeared with tar,
the tar, I am indebted to Cleland s ^hj^.^ doth defend their head and neck,
poetry. In his verses on the "High- jugt as it doth their sheep pxct^ct"
WILLIAM AND MARY. 807
of observing faith to allies and hospitality to guests, chap.
It was true that his predatory habits were most pemi-
cious to the coimnonwealth. Yet those erred greatly 1^89.
who imagined that he bore any resemblance to villains
who, in rich and well governed communities, live by
stealing. When he drove before him the herds of Low-
land farmers up the pass which led to his native glen,
he no more considered himself as a thief than the
Raleighs and Drakes considered themselves as thieves
when they divided the cargoes of Spanish galleons. He
was a warrior seizing lawful prize of war, of war ne-
ver once intermitted during the thirty five generations
which had passed away since the Teutonic invaders had
driven the children of the soil to the mountains. That,
if he was caught robbing on such principles, he should,
for the protection of peaceful industry, be punished
with the utmost rigour of the law was perfectly just.
But it was not just to class him morally with the pick-
pockets who infested Drury Lane Theatre, or the high-
WBymen who stopped coaches on Blackheath. His
inordinate pride of birth and his contempt for labour
and trade were indeed great weaknesses, and had done
far more than the inclemency of the air and the sterility
of the soil to keep his country poor and rude. Yet even
here there was some compensation. It must in fieiimess
be acknowledged that the patrician virtues were not
less widely diffused among the population of the High-
lands than the patrician vices. As there was no other
part of the island where men, sordidly clothed, lodged,
and fed, indulged themselves to such a degree in the
idle sauntering habits of an aristocracy, so there was
no other part of the island where such men had in such
a degree the better qualities of an aristocracy, grace
and dignity of manner, selfrespect, and that noble
sensibility which makes dishonour more terrible than
death. A gentleman of this sort, whose clothes were
begrimed with the accumulated filth of years, and whose
X 2
308 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, hovel smelt worse than an English hogstye, would
often do the honours of that hovel with a lofty courtesy
1689. worthy of the splendid circle of Versailles. Though he
had as little bookleaming as the most stupid plough-
boys of England, it would have been a great error
to put him in the same intellectual rank with such
ploughboys. It is indeed only by reading that men
can become profoundly acquainted with any science.
But the arts of poetry and rhetoric may be carried near
to absolute perfection, and may exercise a mighty
influence on the public mind, in an age in which books
are wholly or almost wholly unknown. The first great
painter of life and manners has described, with a viva-
city which makes it impossible to doubt that he was
copying from nature, the eflFect produced by eloquence
and song on audiences ignorant of the alphabet. It
is probable that, in the Highland councils, men who
would not have been qualified for the duty of parish
clerks sometimes argued questions of peace and war,
of tribute and homage, with ability worthy of Halifisix
and Caermarthen, and that, at the Highland banquets,
minstrels who did not know their letters sometimes
poured forth rhapsodies in which a discerning critic
might have found passages which would have reminded
him of the tenderness of Otway or of the vigour of
Dryden.
There was therefore even then evidence sufficient to
justify the belief that no natural inferiority had kept
the Celt far behind the Saxon. It might safely have
been predicted that, if ever an efficient police should
make it impossible for the Highlander to avenge his
wrongs by violence and to supply his wants by ra-
pine, if ever his faculties should be developed by the
civilising influence of the Protestant religion and of
the English language, if ever he should transfer to his
country and to her lawful magistrates the affection and
respect with which he had been taught to regard his
o^vn petty community and his own petty prince, the
WILLIAM AND MARY. 309
kingdom would obtain an immense accession of strength chap.
for all the purposes both of peace and of war.
Such would doubtless have been the decision of a ^^^9-
well informed and impartial judge. But no such judge
was then to be found. The Saxons who dwelt far from
the Gaelic provinces could not be well informed. The
Saxons who dwelt near those provinces could not be
impartial. National enmities have always been fiercest
among borderers ; and the enmity between the High-
land borderer and the Lowland borderer along the
whole frontier was the growth of ages, and was kept
fresh by constant injuries. One day many square
miles of pasture land were swept bare by armed plun-
derers from the hills. Another day a score of plaids
dangled in a row on the gallows of CrieflF or Stirling.
Fairs were indeed held on the debatable land for the
necessary interchange of commodities. But to those
fairs both parties came prepared for battle; and the
day often ended in bloodshed. Thus the Highlander
was an object of hatred to his Saxon neighbours ; and
from his Saxon neighbours those Saxons who dwelt far
from him learned the very little that they cared to
know about his habits. When the English conde-
scended to think of him at all, — and it was seldom that
they did so, — they considered him as a filthy abject
savage, a slave, a Papist, a cutthroat, and a thief.*
* A Btriking illustratioii of the diately follows his creation may be
opinion which was entertained of quoted^ I hope, without much of-
tfae Highlander by his Lowland fence.
neighbours, and which was by them . g^y. God to the Hidandman, ' Quhair
communicated to the English, will wilt thou now ? '
be found in a volume of Miscel- ' 1 will down to the Lowlands, Lord, and
bmi^ p«Md«d by Aft. Behn in .Ffy!J"^^tpS:;'' thou wilt never
]085. One of the most cunous doweel,
pieces in the collection is a coarse *An thou, but new made, so sunegais
and profane Scotch poem entiUed, . Umff,C<!^'theHielandman,and swore
'* How the first Hielandman was by yon kirk,
made." How and of what materials * So long as I may geir get to steal, will
he was made I shaU not venture to ^ °«^' ^°'^'
relate. The dialogue which imme- Another Lowland Scot, the brave
X 3
310 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. This contemptuous loathing lasted till the year 1745,
^"^' and was then for a moment succeeded by intense fear
1689. and rage. England, thoroughly alaimed, put forth her
whole strength. The HigUands were subjugated ra-
pidly, completely, and for ever. During a short time
the English nation, still heated by the recent conflict,
breathed nothing but vengeance. The slaughter on the
field of battle and on the scaffold was not sufficient
to slake the public thirst for blood. The sight of the
tartan inflamed the populace of London with hatred,
which showed itself by immanly outrages to defence-
less captives. A political and social revolution took
place through the whole Celtic region. The power
of the chiefs was destroyed : the people were disarmed :
the use of the old national garb was interdicted:
the old predatory habits were effectually broken;
and scarcely had this change been accomplished when
a strange reflux of public feeling began. Pity suc-
ceeded to aversion. The nation execrated the cruelties
which had been committed on the Highlanders, and
forgot that for those cruelties it was itself answerable.
Those very Londoners, who, while the memory of the
march to Derby was still fresh, had thronged to hoot
and pelt the rebel prisoners, now fastened on the
prince who had put down the rebellion the nickname
of Butcher. Those barbarous institutions and usages,
which, while they were in full force, no Saxon had
Colonel Cleland, about the same bours." In the History of the Re-
time, describes the Highlander in Tolution in Scotland^ printed at
the same manner: Edinburgh in I69O, is the foUow-
** For a misobliging word ing passage : " The Highlanders of
Shell dirk her neighbour o*er the board. Scotland are a sort of wretches that
F^r^U'V^'^^ntl/l?,'^ by theft." »>»- »<>. «>*- eonsider.don of ho-
-, , , -, , nour, friendship, obedience, or go-
Much to the same effect are the ^ernment. than •», by any alteration
very few *or""ch Franclc Ph.- „f ,gy„ „^ reyolntion m the go-
Unthropus (1694) spares to the vernment, they can improve to them-
H.gh anders : " 1 hey hye hke la.rds ^^^^ ^ opportunity of robbing or
and die hke loons, hating to work ^i^^^^^ ^^ bordering ne^h-
and no credit to borrow : they make Uqu^c »♦ «» -»
depredations and rob their neigh-
WILLIAM AND MAUY. 311
thought worthy of serious examination, or had men- chap.
tioned except with contempt, had no sooner ceased to ^"^
exist than they became objects of curiosity, of interest, 1689.
even of admiration. Scarcely had the chiefs been
turned into mere landlords, when it became the fashion to
draw invidious comparisons between the rapacity of the
landlord and the indulgence of the chief. Men seemed
to have forgotten that the ancient Gaelic polity had been
found to be incompatible with the authority of law,
had obstructed the progress of civilisation, had more
than once brought on the empire the curse of civil
war. As they had formerly seen only the odious side of
that polity, they could now see only the pleasing side.
The old tie, they said, had been parental : the new tie
was purely commercial. What could be more lament-
able than that the head of a tribe should eject, for a
paltry arrear of rent, tenants who were his own flesh and
blood, tenants whose forefathers had often with their
bodies covered his forefathers on the field of battle ?
As long as there were Gaelic marauders, they had been
regarded by the Saxon population as hateful vermin
who ought to be exterminated without mercy. As
soon as the extermination had been accomplished, as
soon as cattle were as safe in the Perthshire passes as
in Smithfield market, the freebooter was exalted into a
hero of romance. As long as the Gaelic dress was
worn, the Saxons had pronounced it hideous, ridiculous,
nay, grossly indecent. Soon after it had been pro-
hibited, they discovered that it was the most graceful
drapery in Europe. The Gaelic monuments, the Gaelic
usages, the Gaelic superstitions, the Gaelic verses, dis-
dainfully neglected during many ages, begf^n to attract
the attention of the learned from the moment at which
the peculiarities of the Graelic race began to disappear.
So strong was this impulse that, where the High-
lands were concerned, men of sense gave ready cre-
dence to stories without evidence, and men of taste
X 4
312 HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, gave rapturous applause to compositions without merit.
^^^' Epic poems, which any skilful and dispassionate critic
1689. would at a glance have perceived to be almost entirely
modern, and which, if they had been published as
modern, would have instantly found their proper place
in company with Blackmore's Alfred and Wilkie's Epi-
goniad, were pronounced to be fifteen hundred years
old, and were gravely classed with the Iliad. Writers
of a very diflFerent order from the impostor who fabri-
cated these forgeries saw how striking an eflFect might
be produced by skilful pictures of the old Highland life.
Whatever was repulsive was softened down : whatever
was graceful and noble was brought prominently for-
ward. Some of these works were executed with such
admirable art that, like the historical plays of Shak-
speare, they superseded history. The visions of the
poet were realities to his readers. The places which
he described became holy ground, and were visited by
thousands of pilgrims. Soon the vulgar imagination
was so completely occupied by plaids, targets, and clay-
mores, that, by most Englishmen, Scotchman and High-
lander were regarded as synonymous words. Few
people seemed to be aware that, at no remote period, a
Macdonald or a Macgregor in his tartan was to a citizen
of Edinburgh or Glasgow what an Indian hunter in his
war paint is to an inhabitant of Philadelphia or Boston.
Artists and actors represented Bruce and Douglas in
striped petticoats. They might as well have represented
Washington brandishing a tomahawk, and girt with a
string of scalps. At length this fashion reached a
point beyond which it was not easy to proceed. The
last British King who held a court in Holyrood\hought
that he could not give a more striking proof of his re-
spect for the usages which had prevailed in Scotland
before the Union, than by disguising himself in what, *
before the Union, was considered by nine Scotchmen
out of ten as the dress of a thief.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 313
Thus it has chanced that the old Gaelic institutions chap.
and manners have never been exhibited in the simple 1
light of truth. Up to the middle of the last century, ^^^9-
they were seen through one false medium : they have
since been seen through another. Once they loomed
dimly through an obscuring and distorting haze of pre-
judice; and no sooner had that fog dispersed than they
appeared bright with all the richest tints of poetry.
The time when a perfectly fair picture could have been
painted has now passed away. The original has long
disappeared: no authentic effigy exists; and all that is
possible is to produce an imperfect likeness by the help •
of two portraits, of which one is a coarse caricature and
the other a masterpiece of flattery.
Among the erroneous notions which have been com- Peculiar
monly received concerning the history and character of JJcq^j^
the Highlanders is one which it is especially necessary m the
to correct. During the century which commenced with ^^ ^^
the campaign of Montrose, and terminated with the
campaign of the young Pretender, every great mili-
tary exploit which was achieved on British ground in
the cause of the House of Stuart was achieved by the
valour of Graelic tribes. The English have therefore
very naturally ascribed to those tribes the feelings of
English cavaliers, profound reverence for the royal of-
fice, and enthusiastic attachment to the royal family.
A close inquiry however wiU show that the strength of
these feelings among the Celtic clans has been greatly
exaggerated.
*" In studjing the history of our civil contentions, we
must never forget that the same names, badges, and
warcrifefhad very diflferent meanings in different parts
of the British isles. We have already seen how little
there was in comdnon between the Jacobitism of Ireland
and the JacobtdSnai oT England. The Jacobitism of the
Scotch Highlan<^ was, at least in the seventeenth cen-
tury, a third vartefy, quite distinct from the other two.
314 UISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. The Gaelic population was far indeed fipom holding the
doctrines of passive obedience and nonresistance. In
1689. fact disobedience and resistance made up the ordinary
life of that population. Some of those very clans which
it has been the fashion to describe as so enthusiastically
loyal that they were prepared to stand by James to the
death, even when he was in the wrong, had never, while
he was on the throne, paid the smallest respect to his
authority, even when he was clearly in the right. Their
practice, their calling, had been to disobey and to defy
him. Some of them had actually been proscribed by
sound of horn for the crime of withstanding his lawful
commands, and would have torn to pieces without scru-
ple any of his officers who had dared to venture beyond
the passes for the purpose of executing his warrant.
The English Whigs were accused by their opponents of
holding doctrines dangerously lax touching the obedience
due to the chief magistrate. Yet no respectable English
Whig ever defended rebellion, except as a rare and ex-
treme remedy for rare and extreme evils. But among
those Celtic chiefs whose loyalty has been the theme of
so much warm eulogy were some whose whole existence
from boyhood upwards had been one long rebellion. Such
men, it is evident, were not likely to see the Revolution
in the light in which it appeared to an Oxonian nonjuror.
On the other hand they were not, like the aboriginal Irish,
urged to take arms by impatience of Saxon domination.
To such domination the Scottish Celt had never been
subjected. He occupied his own wild and sterile region,
and followed his own national usages. In his dealings
with the Saxons, he was rather the oppressor than the
oppressed. He exacted black mail from them : he drove
away their flocks and herds ; and they seldom dared to
pursue him to his native wilderness. They had never
portioned out among themselves his dreary region of
moor and shingle. He had never seen the tower of his
hereditary chieftains occupied by an usurper who coidd
WILLIAM AND MARY. 315
not speak Gaelic, and who looked on all who spoke it chap.
as brutes and slaves; nor had his national and reli- ^^^^
gious feelings ever been outraged by the power and 1689.
splendour of a church which he regarded as at once
foreign and heretical.
The real explanation of the readiness with which a large
part of the population of the Highlands, twice in the
seventeenth century, drew the sword for the Stuarts is
to be found in the internal quarrels which divided the
commonwealth of clans. For there was a commonwealth
of clans, the image, on a reduced scale, of the great
commonwealth of European nations. In the smaller of
these two commonwealths, as in the larger, there were
wars, treaties, alliances, disputes about territory and
precedence, a system of public law, a balance of power.
There was one inexhaustible source of discontents and
disputes. The feudal system had, some centuries be-
fore, been introduced into the hill country, but had
neither destroyed the patriarchal system nor amalga-
mated completely with it. In general he who was lord
in the Norman polity was also chief in the Celtic polity ;
and, when this was the case, there was no conflict. But,
when the two characters were separated, all the willing
and loyal obedience was reserved for the chief. The
lord had only what he could get and hold by force. If
he was able, by the help of his oym tribe, to keep in sub*
jection tenants who were not of his own tribe, there
was a tyranny of clan over clan, the most galling,
perhaps, of all forms of tyranny. At diflferent times
diflferent races had risen to an authority which had pro-
duced general fear and envy. The Macdonalds had jealousy of
once possessed, in the Hebrides and throughout the en^^f "he
mountain country of Argyleshire and Invemessshire, an Campbells.
ascendency similar to that which the House of Austria
had once possessed in Christendom. But the ascen-
dency of the Macdonalds had, like the ascendency of
the House of Austria, passed away; and the Campbells,
316 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, the children of Diannid, had become in the High-
lands what the Bourbons had become in Europe. The
1^89. parallel might be carried far. Imputations similar to
those which it was the fashion to throw on the French
government were thrown on the Campbells. A peculiar
dexterity, a peculiar plausibility of address, a peculiar
contempt for all the obligations of good fiEuth, were as-
cribed, with or without reason, to the dreaded race.
" Fair and false like a Campbell" became a proverb.
It was said that Mac Callum More after Mac Callum
More had, with unwearied, unscrupulous, and unrelent-
ing ambition, annexed mountain after mountain and
island after island to the original domains of his House.
Some tribes had been expelled from their territory,
some compelled to pay tribute, some incorporated with
the conquerors. At length the number of fighting men
who bore the name of Campbell was sufficient to meet
in the field of battle the combined forces of all the other
western clans.* It was during those civil troubles
which commenced in 1638 that the power of this aspir-
ing family reached the zenith. The Marquess of Argyle
was the head of a party as well as the head of a tribe.
Possessed of two diflferent kinds of authority, he used
each of them in such a way as to extend and fortify the
other. The knowledge that he could bring into the
field the claymores of five thousand half heathen moun-
taineers added to his influence among the austere Pres-
byterians who filled the Privy Council and the General
Assembly at Edinburgh. His influence at Edinburgh
added to the terror which he inspired among the moun-
* Since this passage was written Western Islands of Mull, Ila, &c.,
I was much pleased by finding that stirred up other clans to enter into a
Lord Fountainhall used^ in July combination for bearing him downe,
1676, exactly the same illustration like the confederat forces of Ger-
which had occurred to me. He says manie, Spain, Holland, &c, against
that "Argyle's ambitious grasping the growth of the French."
at the mastery of the Highlands and
WILLIAM AND MARY. 317
tains. Of all the Highland ' princes whose history is chap.
XIIL
well known to us he was the greatest and most dreaded.
It was while his neighbours were watching the increase ^^^9.
of his power with hatred which fear could scarcely keep
-down that Montrose called them to arms. The call
was promptly obeyed. A powerful coalition of clans
waged war, nominally for King Charles, but really
against Mac Galium More. It is not easy for any per-
son who has studied the history of that contest to doubt
that, if Argyle had supported the cause of monarchy,
his neighbours would have declared against it. Grave
writers tell of the victory gained at Inveriochy by the
royalists over the rebels. But the peasants who dwell
near the spot speak more accurately. They talk of
the great battle won there by the Macdonalds over the
■Campbells.
The feelings which had produced the coalition against
the Marquess of Argyle retained their force long after
his death. His son, Earl Archibald, though a man of
many eminent virtues, inherited, with the ascendency of
his ancestors, the unpopularity which such ascendency
<^ould scarcely fail to produce. In 1675, several warlike
tribes formed a confederacy against him, but were com-
pelled to submit to the superior force which was at his
conmiand. There was therefore great joy from sea to
sea when, in 1681, he was arraigned on a futile charge,
condemned to death, driven into exile, and deprived of
his dignities. There was great alarm when, in 1685,
he returned from banishment, and sent forth the fiery
cross to summon his kinsmen to his standard; and there
was again great joy when his enterprise had failed, " x,
when his army had melted away, when his head had
been fixed on the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, and when those
chiefs who had regarded him as an oppressor had ob-
tained from the Crown, on easy terms, remissions of
old debts and grants of new titles. While England
and Scotland generally were execrating the tyranny of
318
HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP.
XIII.
1689.
The Stew-
arts and
Macnagh-
tens.
James, he was honoured as a deliverer in Appin and
Lochaber, in Glenroy and Glenmore.* The hatred ex-
cited by the power and ambition of the House of Argyle
was not satisfied even when the head of that House had
perished, when his children were fugitives, when stran*
gers garrisoned the Castle of Inverary, and when the
whole shore of Loch Fyne was laid waste by fire and
sword. It was said that the terrible precedent which
had been set in the case of the Macgregors ought to be
followed, and that it ought to be made a crime to bear
the odious name of Campbell.
On a sudden all was changed. The Revolution came.
The heir of Argyle returned in triumph. He was, as
his predecessors had been, the head, not only of a tribe,
but of a party. The sentence which had deprived him
of his estate and of his honours was treated by the ma-
jority of the Convention as a nullity. The doors of the
Parliament House were thrown open to him: he was
selected from the whole body of Scottish^ nobles to ad-
minister the oath of oflSce to the new Sovereigns; and
he was authorised to raise an army on his domains for
the service of the Crown. He would now, doubtless,
be as powerful as the most powerful of his ancestors.
Backed by the strength of the Government, he would
demand all the long and heavy arrears of rent and
tribute which were due to him from his neighbours, and
would exact revenge for all the injuries and insults
which his family had suflfered. There was terror and
agitation in the castles of twenty petty kings. The un-
easiness was great among the Stewarts of Appin, whose
territory was close pressed by the sea on one side, and
by the race of Diarmid on the other. The Macnaghtens
* In the introduction to the Me-
moirs of Sir Ewan Cameron is a
very sensible remark : " It may ap-
pear paradoxical : but the editor can-
not help hazarding the conjecture
that the motives which prompted
the Highlanders to support King
James were substantially the same
as those by which the promoters of
the Revolution were actuated." The
whole introduction, indeed^ well de-
serves to be read.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 319
were still more alarmed. Once they had been the masters chap.
XTIT
of those beautiful valleys through which the Ara and the
Shira flow into Loch Fyne. But the Campbells had pre- i6®9.
vailed. The Macnaghtens had been reduced to subjection,
and had, generation after generation, looked up with awe
and detestation to the neighbouring Castle of Inveraiy.
They had recently been promised a complete emancipa-
tion. A grant, by virtue of which their chief would
have held his estate immediately from the Crown, had
been prepared, and was about to pass the seals, when
the Revolution suddenly extinguished a hope which
amounted almost to certainty.*
The Macleans remembered that, only fourteen years The Mac-
before, their lands had been invaded and the seat of **"*'
their chief taken and garrisoned by the Campbells.f
Even before William and Mary had been proclaimed
at Edinburgh, a Maclean, deputed doubtless by the head
of his tribe, had crossed the sea to Dublin, and had
assured James that^ if two or three battalions from
Ireland were landed in Argyleshire, they would be im-
mediately joined by four thousand four hundred clay-
mores.t
A similar spirit animated the Camerons. Their TbeCame-
ruler. Sir Ewan Cameron, of Lochiel, sumamed the J^Viei.
* Skene's Highlanders of Scot- " the Argyle impostor." In another
land ; Douglas's Baronage of Scot- page he is "the insidious Campbell,
land. fertile in villany,* ''the ayaricious
t See the Memoirs of the Life of slave/ ''the coward of Argyle," and
Sir Ewan Cameron, and the Histo- " the Scotch traitor." In the next
rical and Genealogical Account of the page he is '*the base and vindic-
Clan Maelean,bj a Senachie. Though tive enemy of the House of Mac-
this last work was published so late lean,"" the hypocritical Covenanter,"
as 1 838^ the writer seems to have " the incorrigible traitor," " the
been inflamed by animosity as fierce cowardly and malignant enemy."
as that with which the Macleans of It is a happy thing tfatt passions
the seventeenth century regarded the so violent can now vent themselves
Campbells. In the short . compass only in scolding,
ofone page the Marquess of Argyle is i Letter of Avaux to Louvois^
designated as " the diabolical Scotch April -^ 1689, enclosing a pa*
Cromwell," " the vile vindictive per- per entitled M^moire du Chevalier
secutor/ "the base traitor," and Macklean.
320 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Black, was in personal qualities unrivalled among the
L Celtic princes. He was a gracious master, a trusty
iGHQ. aiiy^ a terrible enemy. His countenance and bearing
were singulariy noble. Some persons who had been at
Versailles, and among them the shrewd and observant
Simon Lord Lovat, said that there was, in person and
manner, a most striking resemblance between Lewis the
Fourteenth and Lochiel; and whoever compares the
portraits of the two will perceive that there really was
some likeness. In stature the difference was great,
Lewis, in spite of highheeled shoes and a towering wig,
hardly reached the middle size. Lochiel was taU and
strongly built. In agility and skill at his weapons he
had few equals among the inhabitants of the hills. He
had repeatedly been victorious in single combat. He
was a hunter of great fame. He made vigorous war
on the wolves which, down to his time, preyed on the
red deer of the Grampians ; and by his hand perished
the last of the ferocious breed which is known to have
wandered at large in our island. Nor was Lochiel less
distinguished by intellectual than by bodily vigour.
He might indeed have seemed ignorant to educated and
travelled Englishmen, who had studied the classics
under Busby at Westminster and under Aldrich at
Oxford, who had learned something about the sciences
among Fellows of the Royal Society, and something
about the fine arts in the gaUeries of Florence and Rome.
But though Lochiel had very little knowledge of books,
he was eminently wise in council, eloquent in debate,
ready in devising expedients, and skilful in managing
the minds of men. His understanding preserved him
from those follies into which pride and anger frequently
hurried* his brother chieftains. Many, therefore, who
regarded his brother chieftains as mere barbarians,
mentioned him with respect. Even at the Dutch Em-
bassy in St. James's Square he was spoken of as a man
of such capacity and courage that it would not be easy
WILLIAM AND ^lAUY. 321
to find his equal. As a patron of literature he ranks chap.
with the magnificent Dorset. If Dorset out of his own L
purse allowed Dry den a pension equal to the profits of the ^^®9*
Laureateship, Lochiel is said to have bestowed on a cele-
brated bard, who had been plundered by marauders, and
who implored alms in a pathetic Gaelic ode, three cows
and the ahnost incredible simi of fifteen pounds sterling.
In truth, the character of this great chief was depicted
two thousand five hundred years before his birth, and
depicted, — such is the power of genius, — in colours
which wiU be fresh as many years after his death. He
was the Ulysses of the Highlands.*
He held a large territory peopled by a race which re-
verenced no lord, no king but himself. For that ter-
ritory, however, he owed homage to the House of Argyle.
He was bound to assist his feudal superiors in war,
and was deeply in debt to them for rent. This vassal-
age he had doubtless been early taught to consider as
degrading and unjust. In his minority he had been the
ward in chivalry of the politic Marquess, and had been
educated at the Castle of Inverary. But at eighteen the
boy broke loose from the authority of his guardian, and
fought bravely both for Charles the First and for Charles
the Second. He was therefore considered by the Eng-
lish as a Cavalier, was well received at Whitehall af-
ter the Restoration, and was knighted by the hand of
James. The compliment, however, which was paid to
him, on one of his appearances at the English Court,
* See the singularly interesting racters of the most distinguished
Memoirs of Sir Ewan Cameron of chiefs, was grossly ignorant of £ng-
Lochiel, printed at Edinburgh for lish politics and history. I will
the Abbotsford Club in 1842. The quote what Van Citters wrote to the
MS. must have been at least a cen- states General about Lochiel, ^^
tury older. See also in the same jgg^ . ., gj^ jg^^„ Cameron, Lord
yolume the account of Sir Ewan s L^cheale, een man,— soo ik hoor
death, copied from the Balhadie pa- ^^^ ^^ hem lange gekent en dagelyk
pers I ought to «iy that the author ^^^^^ ^^^ omgegaan, - van so
of the Mem»8 of Sir Ewan, though ^^ ^,^„^„j^ ^ ^„ l^, ^
evidently weU informed about the ^,^ • ^ ^^^ .
affairs of the Highlands and the cha- / e / & j /
VOL. in. Y
322 niSTOBY OF ENGLAIH).
CHAP, would not have seemed very flatterinff to a Saxon.
1 1 " Take care of your pockets, my lords," cried his Ma-
1689. jesty; "here comes the king of the thieves." The
loyalty of Lochiel is ahnost proverbial: but it was
very unlike what was called loyalty in England. In
the Records of the Scottish Parliament he was, in the
days of Charles the Second, described as a lawless
and rebellious man, who held lands masterfully and
in high contempt of the royal authority.* On one
occasion the Sheriff of Invemessshire was directed by
King James to hold a court in Lochaber. Lochiel,
jealous of this interference with his own patriarchal
despotism, came to the tribunal at the head of four
hundred armed Camerons. He affected great reverence
for the royal commission, but he dropped three or four
words which were perfectly understood by the pages
and armourbearers who watched every turn of his eye.
" Is none of my lads so clever as to send this judge
packing? I have seen them get up a quarrel when
there was less need of one." In a moment a brawl
began in the crowd, none could say how or where. Hun-
dreds of dirks were out : cries of " Help" and " Murder "
were raised on all sides : many wounds were inflicted :
two men were killed : the sitting broke up in tumult;
and the terrified Sheriff was forced to put himself under
the protection of the chief, who, with a plausible show
of respect and concern, escorted llim safe home. It is
amusing to think that the man who performed this feat
is constantly extolled as the most faithful and dutiful
of subjects by writers who blame Somers and Burnet as
contemners of the legitimate authority of Sovereigns.
Lochiel would undoubtedly have laughed the doctrine
of nonresistance to scorn. But scarcely any chief in
Invemessshire had gained more than he by the downfall
of the House of Argyle, or had more reason than he to
dread the restoration of that House. Scarcely any chief
♦ Act. Pari., July 5. I66I.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 323
in Invemessshire, therefore, was more alarmed and dis- chap.
gusted by the proceedings of the Convention. ^^^''
But of all those Highlanders who looked on the recent ^^89.
turn of fortune with painful apprehension the fiercest ^"^aidJT"
and the most powerful were the Macdonalds. More
than one of the magnates who bore that widespread
name laid claim to the honour of being the rightful
successor of those Lords of the Isles, who, as late as
the fifteenth century, disputed the preeminence of the
Kings of Scotland. This genealogical controversy, which
has lasted down to our own time, caused much bicker-
ing among the competitors. But they all agreed in
regretting the past splendour of their dynasty, and in
detesting the upstart race of Campbell. The old feud
had never slumbered. It wa& still constantly repeated,
in verse and prose, that the finest part of the domain
belonging to the ancient heads of the Gaelic nation, Islay,
where they had lived with the pomp of royalty, lona,
where they had been interred with the pomp of religion,
the paps of Jura, the rich peninsula of Kintyre, had been
transferred from the legitimate possessors to the insa-
tiable Mac Galium More. Since the downfall of the
House of Argyle, the Macdonalds, if they had not re-
gained their ancient superiority, might at least boast
that they had now no superior. Relieved from the fear
of their mighty enemy in the West, they had turned
their arms against wetier enemies in the East, against
the clan of Mackintosh and against the town of Inverness.
The dan of Mackintosh, a branch of an ancient and Feud bc-
renowned tribe which took its name and badge from the Ma^o^^**
wild cat of the forests, had a dispute with the Macdonalds, ^ids and
which originated, if tradition may be believed, in those toshes.
dark times when the Danish pirates wasted the coasts
of Scotland. Inverness was a Saxon colony among the Inverness.
Celts, a hive of traders and artisans in the midst of a
population of loungers and plunderers, a solitary out-
post of civilisation in a region of barbarians. Though
Y 2
324 HISTORY OF ElfGLANl).
CHAP, the buildings covered but a small part of the space over
which they now extend; though the arrival of a brig in
1^89. the port was a rare event; though the Exchange was
the middle of a miry street, in which stood a market
cross much resembling a broken milestone; though the
sittings of the municipal council were held in a filthy
den with a roughcast waU; though the best houses
were such as would now be called hovels ; though the
best roofs were of thatch; though the best ceilings were
of bare rafters; though the best windows were, in bad
weather, closed with shutters for want of glass; though
the humbler dwellings were mere heaps of turf, in which
barrels ynth the bottoms knocked out served the purpose
of chimneys ; yet to the mountaineer of the Grampians
this city was as Babylon or as Tyre. Nowhere else had
he seen four or five hundred houses, two churches, twelve
maltkilns, crowded close together. Nowhere else had
he been dazzled by the splendour of rows of booths,
where knives, horn spoons, tin kettles, and gaudy ribands
were exposed to sale. Nowhere else had he been on board
of one of those huge ships which brought sugar and wine
over the sea from countries far beyond the limits of his
geography.* It is not strange that the haughty and
warlike Macdonalds, despising peaceful industry, yet
envying the fruits of that industry, should have fastened
a succession of quarrels on the people of Inverness. In
the reign of Charles the Second, it had been apprehended
that the town would be stormed and plundered by those
rude neighbours. The terms of peace which they of-
fered showed how little they regarded the authority
of the prince and of the law. Their demand was that
a heavy tribute should be paid to them, that the muni-
cipal magistrates should bind themselves by an oath to
♦ See Burt's Third and Fourth I ought here to acknowledge my
Letters. In the early editions is ohligations to Mr. Robert Carru-
an engraving of the market cross of thers, who kindly furnished me with
Inverness, and of that part of the much curious information about In-
strect where the merchants congre- verncss and with some extracts from
gate(L the municipal records.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 325
deliver up to the vengeance of the clan every burgher chap.
who should shed the blood of a Macdonald, and that
every burgher who should anywhere meet a person i^®9-
wearing the Macdonald tartan should ground arms in
token of submission. Never did Lewis the Fourteenth,
not even when he was encamped between Utrecht and
Amsterdam, treat the States General with such despotic
insolence.* By the intervention of the Privy Council
of Scotland a compromise was eflfected: but the old
animosity was undiminished.
Common enmities and common apprehensions pro- Inverness
duced a good understanding between the town and bylSr"-
the clan of Mackintosh. The foe most hated and ^o°aJdof
dreaded by both was Colin Macdonald of Keppoch, an
excellent specimen of the genuine Highland Jacobite.
Keppoch's whole life had been passed in insulting and
resisting the authority of the Crown. He had been
repeatedly charged on his allegiance to desist from his
lawless practices, but had treated every admonition
with contempt. The government, however, was not
willing to resort to extremities against him; and he
long continued to rule undisturbed the stormy peaks of
Coryarrick, and the gigantic terraces which still mark
the limits of what was once the Lake of Glenroy. He
was famed for his knowledge of all the ravines and
caverns of that dreary region ; and such was the skill
with which he could track a herd of cattle to the most
secret hidingplace that he was known by the nickname
of CoU of the Cows.f At length his outrageous viola-
tions of all law compelled the Privy Council to take
decided steps. He was proclaimed a rebel : letters of
fire and sword were issued against him under the seal
of James ; and, a few weeks before the Revolution, a body
of royal troops, supported by the whole strength of the
Mackintoshes, marched into Keppoch's territories. He
* I am indebted to Mr. Carru- of the Town Council,
there for a copy of the demands of t Colt's Deposition, Appendix to
the Macdonalda and of the answer the Act. Pari, of July 14. I69O.
y3
326 mSTOBY OF ENQLAIH).
CHAP, gave battle to the invaders, and was victorious. The
^"' King's forces were put to flight; the King's captain was
i^«9- slain; and this by a hero whose loyalty to the King
many writers have very complacently contrasted with
the factious turbulence of the Whigs.*
If Keppoch had ever stood in any awe of the govern-
ment, he was completely relieved from that feeling by
the general anarchy which followed the Revolution. He
wasted the lands of the Mackintoshes, advanced to Inver-
ness, and threatened the town with destruction. The
danger was extreme. The houses were surrounded only
by a wall which time and weather had so loosened that
it shook in every storm. Yet the inhabitants showed a
bold front ; and their courage was stimulated by their
preachers. Sunday the twenty eighth of April was a day
of alarm and confusion. The savages went round and
round the small colony of Saxons like a troop of iamished
wolves round a sheepfold. Keppoch threatened and blus-
tered. He would come in with all his men. He would
sack the place. The burghers meanwhile mustered in
arms round the market cross to listen to the oratory of
their ministers. The day closed without an assault ; the
Monday and the Tuesday passed away in intense anxiety ;
and then an unexpected mediator made his appearance.
Dundee ap- Dundee, after his flight from Edinburgh, had re-
Ke^oTh'8 tired to his country seat in that valley through which
camp. the Glamis descends to the ancient castle of Macbeth.
Here he remained quiet during some time. He protested
that he had no intention of opposing the new govern-
ment. He declared himself ready to return to Edin-
burgh, if only he could be assured that he should be
protected against lawless violence ; and he offered to
give his word of honour, or, if that were not sufficient,
to give bail, that he would keep the peace. Some of
his old soldiers had accompanied him, and formed a gar-
rison sufficient to protect his house against the Presbj^-
terians of the neighbourhood. Here he might possibly
* See the Life of Sir Ewan Cameron.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 327
have remained unharmed and harmless, had not an event chap.
for which he was not answerable made his enemies im- ^"''
placable, and made him desperate.* i6fi9.
An emissary of James had crossed from Ireland to
Scotland with letters addressed to Dundee and Bal-
carras. Suspicion was excited. The messenger was
arrested, interrogated, and searched; and the letters
were found. Some of them proved to be from Melfort,
and were worthy of him. Every line indicated those
qualities which had made him the abhorrence of his
country and the favourite of his master. He announced
with delight the near approach of the day of vengeance
and rapine, of the day when the estates of the seditious
would be divided among the loyal, and when many who
had been great and prosperous would be exiles and
beggars. The King, Melfort said, was determined to
be severe. Experience had at length convinced his
Majesty that mercy would be weakness. Even the
Jacobites were disgusted by learning that a Restora-
tion would be immediately followed by a confiscation
and a proscription. Some of them did not hesitate to
say that Melfort was a villain, that he hated Dundee
and Balcarras, that he wished to ruin them, and that,
for that end, he had written these odious despatches,
and had employed a messenger who had very dex-
terously managed to be caught. It is however quite
certain that Melfort, after the publication of these
papers, continued to stand as high as ever in the
favour of James. It can therefore hardly be doubted
that, in those passages which shocked even the zealous
supporters of hereditary right, the Secretary merely ex-
pressed with fidelity the feelings and intentions of his
master.f Hamilton, by virtue of the powers which the
* Balcarras's Memoirs; History ce qui s'est pass^ en Irlande depuis
of the late Revolution in Scotland. Tarriv^e de sa Majeste'.*' In this
f There is among the Nairne journal there are notes and correc-
Papers in the Bodleian Library a tions in English and French ; the
curious MS. entitled "Journal de English in the handwriting of James
t4
328 HISTORY OF ENGLAin).
CHAP. Estates had, before their adjourmnent, confided to him,
^^^^' ordered Balcarras and Dundee to be arrested. Balcarras
1689. was taken and confined, first in his own house, and then
in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh. But to seize Dundee
was not so easy an enterprise. As soon as he heard
that warrants were out against him, he crossed the Dee
with his followers, and remained a short time in the
wild domains of the House of Gordon. There he held
some communication with the Macdonalds and Gamerons
about a rising. But he seems at this time to have
known little and cared little about the Highlanders.
For their national character he probably felt the dislike
of a Saxon, for their military character the contempt
of a professional soldier. He soon returned to the
Lowlands, and stayed there tiU he learned that a con-
siderable body of troops had been sent to apprehend
him.* He then betook himself to the hill country as
his last refuge, pushed northward through Strathdon
and Strathbogie, crossed the Spey, and, on the morning
of the first of May, arrived with a small band of horse-
men at the camp of Keppoch before Inverness.
The new situation in which Dundee was now placed,
the new view of society which was presented to him,
naturally suggested new projects to his inventive and
enterprising spirit. The hundreds of athletic Celts
whom he saw in their national order of battle were
evidently not allies to be despised. If he could form a
great coalition of clans, if he could muster under one
banner ten or twelve thousand of those hardy warriors,
if he could induce them to submit to the restraints of
discipline, what a career might be before him !
A commission from King James, even when King
the French in the handwriting of ♦ "Nor did ever/' says Bdcar-
Melfort. The letters intercepted by ras, addressing James, " the Viscount
Hamilton are mentioned, and men- of Dundee think of going to thelligh-
tioned in a way which plainly shows lands without further orders from
that they were genuine ; nor is there you, till a party was sent to appre-
the least sign that James disap- hend him."
proved of them.
WILLIAil AND MARY. 329
James was securely seated on the throne, had never been chap.
regarded with much respect by Coll of the Cows. That /^'"'
chief, however, hated the Campbells with all the hatred ^^^9-
of a Macdonald, and promptly gave in his adhesion to
the cause of the House of Stuart. Dundee undertook
to settle the dispute between Keppoch and Inverness.
The town agreed to pay two thousand dollars, a sum
which, small as it might be in the estimation of the
goldsmiths of Lombard Street, probably exceeded any
treasure that had ever been carried into the wilds of
Coryarrick. Half the sum was raised, not without
difficulty, by the inhabitants; and Dundee is said to
have passed his word for the remainder.*
He next tried to reconcile the Macdonalds with the
Mackintoshes, and flattered himself that the two warlike
tribes, lately arrayed against each other, might be will-
ing to fight side by side under his command. But he
soon found that it was no light matter to take up a
Highland feud. About the rights of the contending
Kings neither clan knew any thing or cared any
thing. The conduct of both is to be ascribed to local
passions and interests. What Argyle was to Keppoch,
Keppoch was to the Mackintoshes. The Mackintoshes
therefore remained neutral; and their example was
followed by the Macphersons, another branch of the
race of the wild cat. This was not Dundee's only
disappointment. The Mackenzies, the Frasers, the
Grants, the Munros, the Mackays, the Macleods, dwelt
at a great distance from the territory of Mac Galium
More. They had no dispute with him; they owed no
debt to him; and they had no reason to dread the
increase of his power. They therefore did not sym-
pathize with his alarmed and exasperated neighbours,
* See the narrative sent to James Sir Ewan Cameron ; Balcarras's Me-
in Ireland and received by him moirs ; Mackay's Memoirs. These
July 7* l689- It ia among the narratives do not perfectly agree with
Nairne Papers. See also the Me- each other or with the information
moira of Dundee, 1714 ; Memoirs of which I obtained from Inverness.
330 HISTORY OF ENGLAIH).
CHAP, and could not be induced to join the confederacy against
\ him.* Those chiefs, on tJie other hand, who lived
1689. nearer to Inverary, and to whom the name of C^mipbell
ti^n ^the ^^^ ^^^S ^^^ terrible and hateftd, greeted Dundee
cUnshos- eagerly, and promised to meet him at the head of
Cwnpbeil their followers on the eighteenth of May. During
the fortnight which preceded that day, he traversed
Badenoch and Athol, and exhorted the inhabitants of
those districts to rise in arms. He dashed into the
Lowlands with his horsemen, surprised Perth, and
carried off some Whig gentlemen prisoners to the
mountains. Meanwhile the fiery crosses had been wan-
dering from hamlet to hamlet over all the heaths and
mountains thirty miles round Ben Nevis; and when he
reached the trysting place in Lochaber he found that
the gathering had begun. The head quarters were
fixed close to Lochiel's house, a large pile built entirely
of fir wood, and considered in the Highlands as a
superb palace, Lochiel, surrounded by more than six
hundred broadswords, was there to receive his guests.
Macnaghten of Macnaghten and Stewart of Appin were
at the muster with their little clans. Macdonald of
Keppoch led the warriors who had, a few months before,
under his command, put to flight the musketeers of
King James. Macdonald of Clanronald was of tender
years : but he was brought to the camp by his uncle,
who acted as Regent during the minority. The youth
was attended by a picked body guard composed of his
own cousins, all comely in appearance, and good men
of their hands. Macdonald of Glengarry, conspicuous by
his dark brow and his lofty stature, came from that
great valley where a chain of lakes, then unknown to
fame, and scarcely set down in maps, is now the daily
highway of steam vessels passing and repassing between
the Atlantic and the German Ocean. None of the
♦ Memoirs of Dundee; Tarbet to Melville, Ist June 1689, in the
Leven and Melville Papers.
WILLIAM AND MART. 331
rulers of the motmtains had a higher sense of his per- chap.
sonal dignity, or was more frequently engaged in dis- ^^^
putes with other chiefs. He generally affected in his 1689.
manners and in his housekeeping a rudeness beyond
that of his rude neighbours, and professed to regard the
very few luxuries which had then found their way
from the civilised parts of the world into the Highlands
as signs of the effeminacy and degeneracy of the Gaelic
race. But on this occasion he chose to imitate the
splendour of Saxon warriors, and rode on horseback
before his four hundred plaided clansmen in a steel
cuirass and a coat embroidered with gold lace. Another
Macdonald, destined to a lamentable and horrible end,
led a band of hardy freebooters from the dreary pass
of Glencoe. Somewhat later came the great Hebridean
potentates. Macdonald of Sleat, the most opulent and
powerful of all the grandees who laid claim to the lofty
title of Lord of the Isles, arrived at the head of seven
hundred fighting men from Sky. A fleet of long boats
brought five hundred Macleans from Mull under the
command of their chief. Sir John "of Duart. A far
more formidable array had in old times followed his
fore&thers to battle. But the power, though not the
spirit, of the clan had been broken by the arts and arms
of the Campbells. Another band of Macleans arrived
under a vaUSant leader, who took his title from Loch-
buy, which is, being interpreted, the Yellow Lake.*
♦ Namtive in the Nairne Papers ; The writer was certainly not, as he
I>epo6ition8 of Colt, Osbumey Mai- pretends, one of Dundee's officers^
colm, and Stewart of Ballachan in but a stupid and ignorant Grub Street
the Appendix to the Act Pari, of garreteer. He is utterly wrong both
July 14. 1690 ; Memoirs of Sir as to the place and as to the time of
Ewan Cameron. A few touches I the battle of Killiecrankie. He says
have taken from an English transia- that it was fought on the banks of
Hon of some passages in a lost epic the Tummell, and on the 13th of
poem written in Latin^ and called June. It was fought on the banks
the Grameis. The writer was a of the Garry, and on the 27th of
aealous Jacobite named Phillipps. July. After giring such a specimen
I have seldom made use of the Me- of inaccuracy as tliis, it would be
moin of Dundee^ printed in 17 1^^ idle to point out minor blunders,
and nerer without some misgiving.
332 HISTORY OF ENGLAKB.
CHAP. It does not appear that a single chief who had not
^^^^' some special cause to dread and detest the House of
1689. Argyle obeyed Dundee's summons. There is indeed
Tarbet'B stroug rcasoH to believc that the chiefs who came would
thJ go- ^ have remained quietly at home if the government had
veminent understood the politics of the Highlands. Those poli-
tics were thoroughly understood by one able and expe-
rienced statesman, sprung from the great Highland
family of Mackenzie, the Viscount Tarbet. He at this
conjuncture pointed out to MelviUe by letter, and to
Mackay in conversation, both the cause and the remedy
of the distempers which seemed likely to bring on Scot-
land the calamities of civil war. There was, Tarbet
said, no general disposition to insurrection among the
Gael. Little was to be apprehended even from those
popish clans which were under no apprehension of being
subjected to the yoke of the Campbells. It was noto-
rious that the ablest and most active of the discontent^
chiefs troubled themselves not at all about the questions
which were in dispute between the Whigs and the
Tories. Lochiel in particular, whose eminent personal
qualities made him the most important man among
the mountaineers, cared no more for James than for
William. If the Camerons, the Macdonalds, and the
Macleans could be convinced that, under the new go-
vernment, their estates and their dignities would be
safe, if Mac Galium More would make some concessions,
if their Majesties would take on themselves the payment
of some arrears of rent, Dundee might call the clans to
arms ; but he would call to little purpose. Five thousand
pounds, Tarbet thought, would be sufficient to quiet all
the Geltic magnates ; and in truth, though that sum
might seem ludicrously small to the politicians of West-
minster, though it was not larger than the annual gains
of the Groom of the Stole or of the Paymaster of the
Forces, it might well be thought immense by a barbarous
potentate who, while he ruled hundreds of square miles,
WILLIAM AND MARY. 333
and could bring hundreds of warriors into the field, had chap.
perhaps never had fifty guineas at once in his coffers.* ^'"y
Though Tarbet was considered by the Scottish mi- 1689.
nisters of the new Sovereigns as a very doubtful friend,
his advice was not altogether neglected. It was resolved
that overtures such as he recommended should be made
to the malecontents. Much depended on the choice of
an agent ; and unfortunately the choice showed how
little the prejudices of the wUd tribes of the hills were
understood at Edinburgh. A Campbell was selected
for the office of gaining over to the cause of King Wil-
liam men whose only quarrel to King William was that
he countenanced the Campbells. Offers made through
such a channel were naturally regarded as at once snares
and insults. After this it was to no purpose that Tarbet
wrote to Lochiel and Mackay to Glengarry. Lochiel
returned no answer to Tarbet; and Glengarry returned
to Mackay a coldly civil answer, in which the general
was advised to imitate the example of Monk.f
Mackay, meanwhile, wasted some weeks in marching, indecisive
in countermarching, and in indecisive skirmishing. He jj^X* *^
afterwards honestly admitted that the knowledge which Highlands.
he had acquired, during thirty years of military service
on the Continent, was, in the new situation in which he
was placed, useless to him. It was difficult in such a
country to track the enemy. It was impossible to drive
him to bay. Food for an invading army was not to be
found in the wilderness of heath and shhigle; nor could
supplies for many days be transported far over quaking
bogs and up precipitous ascents. The general found
that he bad tired his men and their horses almost to
^ From a letter of Archibald Earl claims of Mac Galium More on his
of Argyle to Lauderdale^ which bears neighbours.
date the 25th of June, l664, it ap- f Maclcay's Memoirs ; Tarbet to
pears that a hundred thonsand marks Melville^ June 1. 1689> in tlic Leven
Scots, little more than five thousand and Melville Papers ; Dundee to
pounds sterling, would, at that time, Melfort, June 27> in the Naime
Lave rery nearly satisfied all the Tapers.
334 HISTOBT OF ENGLAKD.
CHAP, death, and yet had effected nothing. Highland aim-
. liaries might have been of the greatest use to him : bat
1689. he had few such auxiliaries. The chief of the Grants,
indeed, who had been persecuted by the late govenmient,
and had been accused of conspiring with the unfortunate
Earl of Argyle, was zealous on the side of the Revo-
lution. Two hundred Mackays, animated probably by
family feeling, came from the northern extremity of our
island, where at midsummer there is no night, to fight
under a commander of their own name : but in general
the clans which took no part in the insurrection awaited
the event with cold indifference, and pleased themselves
with the hope that they should easUy make their peace
with the conquerors, and be permitted to assist in plun-
dering the conquered.
An experience of little more than a month satisfied
Mackay that there was only one way in which the
Highlands could be subdued. It was idle to run after
the mountaineers up and down their mountains. A
chain of fortresses must be built in the most important
situations, and must be well garrisoned. The place with
which the general proposed to begin was Inverlochy,
where the huge remains of an ancient castle stood and
still stand. This post was close to an arm of the sea,
and was in the heart of the country occupied by the
discontented clans. A strong force stationed there, and
supported, if necessary, by ships of war, would effec-
tually overawe at once the Macdonalds, the Camerons,
and the Macleans.*
While Mackay was representing in his letters to the
council at Edinburgh the necessity of adopting this plan,
Dundee was contending with difficulties which all his
energy and dexterity could not completely overcome. .
MiUtary The Highlanders, while they continued to be a nation
of t^^^' living under a peculiar polity, were in one sense better
* See Mackay's Memoirs, and his letter to Hamilton of the 14th of
June, 1689.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 335
and in another sense worse fitted for military purposes chap.
than any other nation in Europe. The individual Celt ^^^
was morally and physically well qualified for war, and 1^89.
especially for war in so wild and rugged a country as ^«*^-
his own. He was intrepid, strong, fleet, patient of cold,
of hunger, and of fatigue. Up steep crags, and over
treacherous morasses, he moved as easily as the French
household troops paced along the great road from Ver-
sailles to Marli. He was accustomed to the use of
weapons and to the sight of blood: he was a fencer;
he was a marksman ; and, before he had ever stood in
the ranks, he was already more than half a soldier.
As the individual Celt was easily turned into a soldier,
so a tribe of Celts was easily turned into a battalion of
soldiers. All that was necessary was that the military
organization should be conformed to the patriarchal or-
ganization. The Chief must be Colonel : his uncle or his
brother must be Major : the tacksmen, who formed what
may be called the peerage of the little community, must
be the Captains: the company of each Captain must
consist of those peasants who lived on his land, and
whose names, faces, connections, and characters, were
perfectly known to him : the subaltern officers must be
selected among the Duinhe Wassels, proud of the eagle's
feather : the henchman was an excellent orderly : the
hereditary piper and his sons formed the band: and
the clan became at once a regiment. In such a re-
giment was found from the first moment that exact
order and prompt obedience in which the strength of
regular armies consists. Every man, from highest to
lowest, was in his proper place, and knew that place
perfectly. It was not necessary to impress by threats
or by punishment on the newly enlisted troops the
duty of regarding as their head him whom they had
regarded as their head ever since they could remem-
ber any thing. Every private had, from infancy, re-
spected his corporal much and his Captain more, and
336 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, had almost adored his Colonel. There was therefore
no danger of mutiny. There was as little danger of
1689. desertion. Indeed the very feelings which most power-
fully impel other soldiers to desert kept the Highlander
to his standard. K he left it, whither was he to go?
All his kinsmen, all his friends, were arrayed round it.
To separate himself from it was to separate himself for
ever from his family, and to incur all the misery of that
very homesickness which, in regular armies, drives so
many recruits to abscond at the risk of stripes and of
death. When these things are fairly considered, it will
not be thought strange that the Highland clans should
have occasionally achieved great martial exploits.
But those very institutions which made a tribe of
Highlanders, aU bearing the same name, and aU sub-
ject to the same ruler, so formidable in battle, disqua-
lified the nation for war on a large scale. Nothing
was easier than to turn clans into efficient regiments ;
but nothing was more difficult than to combine these
regiments in such a manner as to form an efficient
army. From the shepherds and herdsmen who fought
in the ranks up to the chiefs, aU was harmony and
order. Every man looked up to his immediate superior,
and aU looked up to the common head. But with the
chief this chain of subordination ended. He knew only
how to govern, and had never learned to obey. Even
to royal proclamations, even to Acts of Parliament,
he was accustomed to yield obedience only when they
were in perfect accordance with his own inclinations. It
was not to be expected that he would pay to any dele-
gated authority a respect which he was in the habit of
refusing to the supreme authority. He thought him-
self entitled to judge of the propriety of every order
which he received. Of his brother chiefs, some were his
enemies and some his rivals. It was hardly possible to
keep him from aflPronting them, or to convince him that
they were not affronting him. All his followers sym-
WILLTAM AND MART. 337
pathized with all his animosities, considered his honour cuap.
as their own, and were ready at his whistle to array
themselves round him in arms against the commander i^>^9*
in chief* There waa therefore very little chance that
by any contrivance any five clans could be induced to
cooperate heartily with one another during a long cam-
paign. The best chance, however, was when they were
led by a Saxon. It is remarkable that none of the
great actions performed by the Highlanders during our
civU wars was performed under the command of a High-
lander. Some writers have mentioned it as a proof of
the extraordinary genius of Montrose and Dundee that
those captains, though not themselves of Gaelic race or
speech, should have been able to form and direct con-
federacies of Gaelic tribes. But in truth it was precisely
because Montrose and Dundee were not Highlanders,
that they were able to lead armies composed of Highland
clans. Had Montrose been chief of the Camerons, the
Macdonalds would never have submitted to his autho-
rity. Had Dundee been chief of Clanronald, he would
never have been obeyed by Glengarry. Haughty and
punctilious men, who scarcely acknowledged the King
to be their superior, would not have endured the supe-
riority of a neighbour, an equal, a competitor. They
could £eu* more easily bear the preeminence of a distin-
guished stranger. Yet even to such a stranger they
would allow only a very limited and a very precarious
authority. To bring a chief before a court martial,
to shoot him, to cashier him, to degrade him, to re-
primand him publicly, was impossible. Macdonald of
Eeppoch or Maclean of Duart would have struck dead
any officer who had demanded his sword, and told him
to consider himself as under arrest; and hundreds of
claymores would instantly have been drawn to protect
the murderer. All that was left to the commander
under whom these potentates condescended to serve
was to argue with them, to supplicate them, to flatter
VOL. III. Z
338 msTOBY OF England.
CHAP, them, to bribe them; and it was only during a short
^^^^ time that any human skill could preserve harmony by
1689. these means. For every chief thought himself entitled
to peculiar observance; and it was therefore impossi*
ble to pay marked court to any one without disobliging
the rest. The general found himself merely the pre-
sident of a congress of petty kings. He was perpetually
called upon to hear and to compose disputes about pe*
digrees, about precedence, about the division of spoil.
His decision, be it what it might, must offend some-
body. At any moment he might hear that his right
wing had fired on his centre in pursuance of some
quarrel two hundred years old, or that a whole bat-
talion had marched back to its native glen, because
another battalion had been put in the post of honour.
A Highland bard might easily have found in the history
of the year 1689 subjects very similar to those with
which the war of Troy furnished the great poets of
antiquity. One day Achilles is sullen, keeps his tent,
and announces his intention to depart with all his men.
The next day Ajax is storming about the camp, and
threatening to cut the throat of Ulysses.
Hence it was that, though the Highlanders achieved
some great exploits in the civil wars of the seventeenth
century, those exploits left no trace which could be
discerned after the lapse of a few weeks. Victories of
strange and almost portentous splendour produced all
the consequences of defeat. Veteran soldiers and states-
men were bewildered by those sudden turns of fortune.
It was incredible that undisciplined men should have
performed such feats of arms. It was incredible that
such feats of arms, having been performed, should be
immediately followed by the triumph of the conquered
and the submission of the conquerors. Montrose, having
passed rapidly from victory to victory, was, in the ftdl
career of success, suddenly abandoned by his followers.
Local jealousies and local interests had brought his
army together. Local jealousies and local interests
WILLIAM AND MARY. 339
dissolved it. The Gordons left him because they fan- chap.
cied that he neglected them for the Macdonalds. The
Macdonalds left him because they wanted to plunder the 1689.
Campbells. The force which had once seemed sufficient
to decide the fiate of a kingdom melted away in a few
days ; and the victories of Tippermuir and Kilsyth were
followed by the disaster of Philiphaugh. Dundee did
not live long enough to experience a similar reverse of
fortune ; but there is every reason to believe that, had
his life been prolonged one fortnight, his history would
have been the history of Montrose retold.
Dundee made one attempt, soon after the gathering
of the clans in Lochaber, to induce them to submit to
the discipline of a regular army. He called a council
of war to consider this question. His opinion was
supported by aU the officers who had joined him from
the low country. Distinguished among them were
James Seton, Earl of Dunfermline, and James Galloway,
Lord Dunkdd. The Celtic chiefs took the other side.
Lochiel, the ablest among them, was their spokesman,
and argued the point with much ingenuity and natural
eloquence. " Our system," — such was the substance of
his reasoning, — " may not be the best : but we were bred
to it from childhood : we understand it perfectly : it is
suited to our peculiar institutions, feelings, and manners.
Making war liter our own fashion, we have the expert-
ness and coolness of veterans. Making war in any
other way, we shall be raw and awkward recruits. To
turn us into soldiers like those of Cromwell and Turenne
would be the business of years : and we have not even
weeks to spare. We have time enough to unlearn our
own discipline, but not tune enough to learn yours."
Dundee, with high compliments to Lochiel, declared
himself convinced, and perhaps was convinced : for the
reasonings of the wise old chief were by no means
without weight.*
^ Memoirs of Sir Ewan Cameron,
z 2
340 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP Yet some Celtic usages of war were such as Dundee
L could not tolerate. Cruel as he was, his cruelty always
1^*89. had a method and a purpose. He still hoped that he
S^T^ might be able to win some chiefs who remained neutral ;
Highland and he carefully avoided every act which could goad
*""^' them into open hostility. This was undoubtedly a po-
licy likely to promote the interest of James ; but the
interest of James was nothing to the wild marauders who
used his name and rallied round his banner merely for
the purpose of making profitable forays and wreaking
old grudges. Keppoch especially, who hated the Mack-
intoshes much more than he loved the Stuarts, not
only plundered the territory of his enemies, but burned
whatever he could not carry away. Dundee was moved
to great wrath by the sight of the blazing dwellings.
" I would rather," he said, " carry a musket in a re-
spectable regiment than be captain of such a gang of
i hieves." Punishment was of course out of the question.
Indeed it may be considered as a remarkable proof of
the general's influence that Coll of the Cows deigned to
apologize for conduct for which in a well governed army
he would have been shot.*
As the Grants were in arms for King William, their
property was considered as fair prize. Their territory
was invaded by a party of Camerons : a skirmish took
place : some blood was shed ; and many cattle were
carried off to Dundee's camp, where provisions were
greatly needed. This raid produced a quarrel, the
history of which illustrates in the most strildng manner
the character of a Highland army. Among those who
were slain in resisting the Camerons was a Macdonald
of the Glengarry branch, who had long resided among
the Grants, had become in feelings and opinions a
Grant, and had absented himself from the muster of
his tribe. Though he had been guilty of a high offence
against the Gaelic code of honour and morality, his
• Memoirs of Sir Ewan Cameron.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 341
kinsmen remembered the sacred tie which he had for- chap.
gotten. Good or bad, he was bone of their bone : he ^^^
was flesh of their flesh ; and he should have been ^^89*
reserved for their justice. The name which he bore,
the blood of the Lords of the Isles, should have been
his protection. Glengarry in a rage went to Dundee
and demanded vengeance on Lochiel and the whole race
of Cameron. Dundee replied that the unfortunate
gentleman who had fallen was a traitor to the clan as
well as to the King. Was it ever heard of in war that
the person of an enemy, a combatant in arms, was to
be held inviolable on account of his name and descent ?
And, even if wrong had been done, how was it to be
redressed ? Half the army must slaughter the other
half before a finger could be laid on Lochiel. Glen-
garry went away raging like a madman. Since his
complaints were disregarded by those who ought to
right him, he would right himself : he would draw out
his men, and fall sword in hand on the murderers of
his cousin. During some time he would listen to no
expostulation. When he was reminded that Lochiel's
followers were in number nearly double of the Glengarry
men, " No matter," he cried, " one Macdonald is worth
two Camerons." Had Lochiel been equally irritable
and boastful, it is probable that the Highland insur-
rection would have given little more trouble to the
government, and that the rebels would have perished
obscurely in the wilderness by one another's claymores.
But nature had bestowed on him in large measure the
qualities of a statesman, though fortune had hidden
those qualities in an obscure comer of the world. He
saw that this was not a time for brawling : his own
character for courage had long been established ; and
his tempet was under strict government. The fury of
Glengarry, not being inflamed by any fresh provocation,
rapidly abated. Indeed there were some who suspected
that he had never been quite so pugnacious as he had
z 3
342 HIST0B7 OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, affected to be, and that his bluster was meant only to
^^^' keep up his own dignity in the eyes of his retainers.
iGsg. However this might be, the quarrel was composed ; and
the two chiefs met, with the outward show of civility,
at the general^s table.*
Dundee What Dundcc saw of his Celtic allies must have
jSm^fop i^aade him desirous to have in his army some troops
assUtEDcc. on whose obedience he could depend, and who would
not, at a signal from their colonel, turn their arms
against their general and their king. He accordingly,
during the months of May and June, sent to Dublin a
succession of letters earnestly imploring assistance. K
six thousand, four thousand, three thousand, regular
soldiers were now sent to Lochaber, he trusted that his
Majesty would soon hold a court in Holyrood. That
such a force might be spared hardly admitted of a
doubt. The authority of James was at that time ac-
knowledged in every part of Ireland, except on the
shores of Lough Erne and behind the ramparts of
Londonderry. He had in that kingdom an army of
forty thousand men. An eighth part of such an army
would scarcely be missed there, and might, united with
the clans which were in insurrection, effect great things
in Scotland.
Dundee received such answers to his applications as
encouraged him to hope that a large and well appointed
force would soon be sent from Ulster to join him. He
did ^ot wish to try the chance of battle before these
succours arrived.f Mackay, on the other hand, was
weary of marching to and fro in a desert. His men
were exhausted and out of heart. He thought it de-
sirable that they should withdraw from the hill country ;
and William was of the same opinion.
The war in In Juuc therefore the civil war was, as if by concert
SS^bS." l>etween the generals, completely suspended. Dtmdec
pended.
• Memoirs of Sir Ewan Came- f Dundee to Melfort^ June 27.
ron. 1689.
-WILLIAM AND MAB7. 343
remamed in Lochaber, impatiently awaiting the arrival chap.
of troops and supplies from Ireland. It was impossible ^^^^'
for him to keep his Highlanders together in a state of 1689.
inactivity. A vast extent of moor and mountain was
required to furnish food for so many mouths. The
cla^ therefore went back to their own glens, having
promised to reassemble on the first summons.
Meanwhile Mackay^s soldiers, exhausted by severe
exertions and privations, were taking their ease in
quarters scattered over the low country from Aberdeen
to Stirling. Mackay himself was at Edinburgh, and
was urging the ministers there to Aimish him with the
means of constructing a chain of fortifications among
the Grampians. The ministers had, it should seem,
miscalculated their military resources. It had been
expected that the Campbells would take the field in
such force as would balance the whole strength of the
clans which marched under Dundee. It had also been
expected that the Covenanters of the West would hasten
to swell the ranks of the army of King William. Both
expectations were disappointed. Argyle had found his
principality devastated, and his tribe disarmed and dis-
organized. A considerable time must elapse before his
standard would be surrounded by an array such as his
fore£Bkthers had led to battle. The Covenanters of the
West were in general unwilling to enlist. They were Scmpies of
assuredly not wanting in courage ; and they hated Dun- nMtr«^*'
dee with deadly hatred. In their part of the country f^'** ^^
the memory of his cruelty was still fresh. Every vil- for King
lage had its own tale of blood. The greyheaded father ^***^*™*
was missed in one dwelling, the hopeful stripling in
another. It was remembered but too well how the
dragoons had stalked into the peasant's cottage, cursing
and damning him, themselves, and each other at every
second word, pushing from the ingle nook his grandmo-
ther of eighty, and thrusting their hands into the bosom
of his daughter of sixteen; how the abjuration had
z 4
344 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
CHAP. l>een tendered to him; how he had folded his arms and
^"^ said " God's wiU be done " ; how the Colonel had called
1689. for a file with loaded muskets ; and how in three minutes
the goodman of the house had been wallowing in a
pool of blood at his own door. The seat of the martyr
was still vacant at the fireside; and every child coidd
point out his grave still green amidst the heath. When
the people of this region called their oppressor a servant
of the devil, they were not speaking figuratively. They
believed that between the bad man and the bad angel
there was a close alliance on definite terms ; that Dimdee
had bound himself to do the work of hell on earth, and
that, for high purposes, hell was permitted to protect
its slave till the measure of his guilt should be fiill.
But, intensely as these men abhorred Dundee, most of
them had a scruple about drawing the sword for Wil-
liam. A great meeting was held in the parish church
of Douglas ; and the question was propounded, whether,
at a time when war was in the land, and when an Irish
invasion was expected, it were not a duty to take arms.
The debate was sharp and tumultuous. The orators
on one side adjured their brethren not to incur the
curse denounced against the inhabitants of Meroz, who
came not to the help of the Lord against the mighty.
The orators on the other side thundered against sinful
associations. There were malignants in William's army :
Mackay's own orthodoxy was problematical: to take
military service with such comrades, and under such a
general, would be a sinful association. At length, after
much wrangling, and amidst great confusion, a vote
was taken ; and the majority pronounced that to take
The Came- military service would be a sinful association. There
gJm^t'^ was however a large minority; and, from among the
™^*®^- members of this minority, the Earl of Angus was able
to raise a body of infantry, which is still, after the lapse
of more than a hundred and sixty years, known by the
name of the Camcronian Regiment. The first Lieu-
WILLIAM AND MABT. 345
tenant Colonel was Cleland, that implacable avenger chap
of blood who had driven Dundee from the Convention. ^"'',
There was no small difficulty in filling the ranks; for 1^89.
many West country Whigs, who did not think it abso-
lutely sinful to enlist, stood out for terms subversive
of all military discipline. Some would not serve un-
der any colonel, major, captain, serjeant, or corporal,
who was not ready to sign the Covenant. Others in-
sisted that, if it should be found absolutely necessary
to appoint any officer who had taken the tests imposed
in the late reign, he should at least qualify himself for
command by publicly confessing his sin at the head of
the regiment. Most of the enthusiasts who had pro-
posed these conditions were induced by dexterous ma-
nagement to abate much of their demands. Yet the
new regiment had a very peculiar character. The sol-
diers were all rigid Puritans. One of their first acts
was to petition the Parliament that all drunkenness,
licentiousness, and profaneness might be severely pun-
ished. Their own conduct must have been exemplary :
for the worst crime which the most extravagant bi-
gotry could impute to them was that of huzzaing on the
King's birthday. It was originally intended that with
the military organization of the corps should be inter-
woven the organization of a Presbyterian congregation.
Each company was to furnish an elder; and the elders
were, with the chaplain, to form an ecclesiastical court
for the suppression of immorality and heresy. Elders,
however, were not appointed: but a noted hill preacher,
Alexander Shields, was called to the office of chaplain.
It is not easy to conceive that fanaticism can be heated
to a higher temperature than that which is indicated
by the writings of Shields. According to him, it should
seem to be the first duty of a Christian ruler to perse-
cute to the death every heterodox subject, and the first
duty of every Christian subject to poniard a hetero-
dox ruler. Yet there was then in Scotland an enthu-
846
HISTORY OF ENQLAKP.
OHAP.
XIIL
1689.
Edinbturgh
Castle sur-
readers.
siasm compared with which the enthusiasm even of this
man was lukewarm. The extreme Covenanters pro-
tested against his defection as vehemently as he had
protested against the Black Indulgence and the oath
of supremacy, and pronounced every man who entered
Angus's regiment guilty of a wicked confederacy with
malignants.*
Meanwhile Edinburgh Castle had fallen, afber hold-
ing out more than two months. Both the defence and
the attack had been languidly conducted. The Duke
of Gordon, unwilling to incur the mortal hatred of
those at whose mercy his lands and life might soon
be, did not choose to batter the city. The assailants,
on the other hand, carried on their operations with so
little energy and so little vigilance that a constant
communication was kept up between the Jacobites
within the citadel and the Jacobites without. Strange
stories were told of the polite and facetious messages
which passed between the besieged and the besiegers.
On one occasion Gordon sent to inform the magistrates
that he was going to fire a salute on account of some
news which he had received from Ireland, but that the
good town need not be alarmed, for that his guns would
not be loaded with ball. On another occasion, his
drums beat a parley : the white flag was hung out : a
conference took place ; and he gravely informed the
enemy that all his cards had been thimibed to pieces,
and begged them to let him have a few more packs.
His friends established a telegraph by means of which
♦ See Faithftil Contendings Dis-
played^ particularly the proceedings
of April 29. and 30. and of May
13. and 14. 1689; the petition to
Parliament drawn up by tlie regi-
ment, on July 18. 1689; the protes-
tation of Sir Robert Hamilton of
November 6. 1689; &nd the admoni-
tory Epistle to the Regiment^ dated
March 27. I69O. The Society
people, as they called themselves,
seem to have been especially shocked
by the way in which the King's
bbthday had been kept. '* We
hope,** they wrote, " ye are against
observing anniversary days as well
as we^ and that ye will mooni for
what ye have done." As to the
opinions and temper of Alexander
Shields^ see his Hind Let Loose.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 847
they conversed with him across the lines of sentinels, chap.
YIIT
From a window in the top story of one of the loftiest 1
of those gigantic houses, a few of which still darken 1689.
the High Street, a white cloth was hung out when all
was wdl, and a black cloth when things went ill. If
it was necessary to give more detailed information, a
board was held up inscribed with capital letters so
large that they could, by the help of a telescope, be
read on the ramparts of the castle. Agents laden with
letters and fresh provisions managed, in various dis-
guises and by various shifts, to cross the sheet of
water which then lay on the north of the fortress and
to clamber up the precipitous ascent. The peal .of a
musket from a particular half moon was the signal
which announced to the friends of the House of Stuart
that another of their emissaries had got safe up the
rock. But at length the supplies were exhausted; and
it was necessary to capitulate. Favourable terms were
readily granted : the garrison marched out ; and the
keys were delivered up amidst the acclamations of a
great multitude of burghers.*
But the government had far more acrimonious and Semmor
more pertinacious enemies in the Parliament House at^EtoT"*
than in the Castle. When the Estates reassembled ^'^k^
after their adjournment, the crown and sceptre of
Scotland were displayed with the wonted pomp in the
hall as types of the absent sovereign. Hamilton rode
in state from Holyrood up the High Street as Lord
High Commissioner; and Crawford took his seat as
President. Two Acts, one turning the Convention into
a Parliament, the other recognising William and Mary
as King and Queen, were rapidly passed and touched
with the sceptre; and then the conflict of factions
began.f
* Siege of the Castle of Edin- f Act. Pari. Scot.^ June 5. June
bmghy printed fbr the Bannatyne 17. I689.
Cfaib; Load. Oai.^ June i%. 1^89.
348 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. It speedily appeared that the opposition which
, Montgomery had organized was irresistibly strong.
1689. Though made up of many conflicting elements, Be-
^\f publicans, Whigs, Tories, zealous Presbjrterians, bigoted
the Club, Prelatists, it acted for a time as one man, and drew to
itself a multitude of those mean and timid politicians
who naturally gravitate towards the stronger party.
The friends of the government were few and disunited.
Hamilton brought but half a heart to the discharge of
his duties. He had always been imstable ; and he was
now discontented. He held indeed the highest place
to which a subject could aspire. But he imagined that
he had only the show of power while others enjoyed
the substance, and was not sorry to see those of whom
he was jealous thwarted and annoyed. He did not
absolutely betray the prince whom he represented : but
he sometimes tampered with the chiefs of the Club, and
sometimes did sly ill turns to those who were joined
with him in the service of the Crown.
His instructions directed him to give the royal assent
to laws for the mitigating or removing of numerous
grievances, and particularly to a law restricting the
power and reforming the constitution of the Committee
of Articles, and to a law establishing the Presbyterian
Church Government.* But it mattered not what his
instructions were. The chiefs of the Club were bent
on finding a cause of quarrel. The propositions of the
Government touching the Lords of the Articles were
contemptuously rejected. Hamilton wrote to London
for fresh directions; and soon a second plan, which
left little more than the name of the once despotic
Committee, was sent back. But the second plan,
though such as would have contented judicious and
temperate reformers, shared the fate of the first.
Meanwhile the chiefs of the Club laid on the table a
* The instructions will be found among the Somers Tracts.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 349
law which interdicted the King from ever employing chap.
in any public office any person who had ever borne
any part in any proceeding inconsistent with the i^^^*
Claim of Right, or who had ever obstructed or re-
tarded any good design of the Estates. This law,
imiting, within a very short compass, almost all tlie
faults which a law can have, was well known to be
aimed at the new Lord President of the Court of Ses-
sion, and at his son the new Lord Advocate. Their
prosperity and power made them objects of envy to
eveiy disappointed candidate for office. That they
were new men, the first of their race who had risen to
distinction, and that nevertheless they had, by the mere
force of ability, become as important in the state as tlie
Duke of Hamilton or the Earl of Argyle, was a thought
which galled the hearts of many needy and haughty
patricians. To the Whigs of Scotland the Dalrjnnples
were what Halifax and Caermarthen were to the Whigs
of England. Neither the exile of Sir James, nor the zeal
with which Sir John had promoted the Revolution, was
received as an atonement for old delinquency. They
had both served the bloody and idolatrous House.
They had both oppressed the people of Gt)d. Their
late repentance might perhaps give them a fair claim to
pardon, but surely gave them no right to honours and
rewards.
The friends of the government in vain attempted to
divert the attention of the Parliament from the business
of persecuting the Dalrymple family to the important
and pressing question of Church Government. They
said that the old system had been abolished ; that no
other system had been substituted ; that it was impos-
sible to say what was the established religion of the
kingdom ; and that the first duty of the legislature
was to put an end to an anarchy which was daily pro-
ducing disasters and crimes. The leaders of the Club
were not to be so drawn away from their object. It
350 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP was moved and resolved that the consideration of ec-
1 clesiastical affairs should be postponed till secular af-
1^*89- fairs had been settled. The unjust and absurd Act of
Incapacitation was carried by seventy four voices to
twenty four. Another vote still more obviously aimed at
the House of Stair speedily followed. The Parliament
laid claim to a Veto on the nomination of the Judges,
and assumed the power of stopping the signet, in other
words, of suspending the whole administration of jus-
tice, till this claim should be allowed. It was plain
from what passed in debate that, though the chiefe of
the Club had begun with the Court of Session, they did
not mean to end there. The arguments used by Sir
Patrick Hume and others led directly to the conclusion
that the King ought not to have the appointment of any
great public ftmctionary. Sir Patrick indeed avowed,
both in speech and in writing, his opinion that the whole
patronage of the realm ought to be transferred fix>m the
Crown to the Estates. When the place of Treasurer, of
Chancellor, of Secretary, was vacant, the Parliament
ought to submit two or three names to his Majesty ;
and one of those names his Majesty ought to be bound
to select.*
All this time the Estates obstinately refiised to grant
any supply till their Acts should have been touched
with the sceptre. The Lord High Commissioner was
at length so much provoked by their perverseness that,
after long temporising, he refused to touch even Acts
which were in themselves unobjectionable, and to which
his instructions empowered him to consent. This state
of things would have ended in some great convulsion, if
the King of Scotland had not been also King of a much
greater and more opulent kingdom. Charles the First
had never found any parliament at Westminster more
unmanageable than William, during this session, found
• As to Sir Patrick's views, see Lockhart*s letter of the 11th of Julj,
his letter of the 7th of June^ and in the Leyen and Melville Papers.
WILLIAM AND MART. 351
the parliament at Edinburgh. But it was not in the chap.
power of the parliament at Edinburgh to put on William ^^^^
such a pressure as the parliament at Westminster had i689.
put on Charles. A refusal of supplies at Westminster
was a serious thing, and left the Sovereign no choice
except to yield, or to raise money by unconstitutional
means. But a refusal of supplies at Edinburgh reduced
him to no such dilemma. The largest sum that he
could hope to receive from Scotland in a year was less
than what he received trom England every fortnight.
He had therefore only to entrench himself within the
limits of his undoubted prerogative, and there to re-
main on the defensive, till some favourable conjuncture
should arrive.*
While these things were passing in the Parliament Troubles
House, the civil war in the Highlands, having been ^ °^
during a few weeks suspended, broke forth again more
violently than before. Since the splendour of the House
of Argyle had been eclipsed, no Gaelic chief could vie in
power with the Marquess of Athol. The district from
which he took his title, and of which he might ahnost be
called the sovereign, was in extent larger than an ordi-
nary county, and was more fertile, more diligently cul-
tivated, and more thickly peopled than the greater part
of the Highlands. The men who followed his banner
were supposed to be not less numerous than all the
Macdonalds and Macleans united, and were, in strength
and courage, inferior to no tribe in the mountains.
But the cliuEi had been made insignificant by the insig-
nificance of the chief. The Marquess was the falsest,
the most fickle, the most pusillanimous, of mankind.
Already, in the short space of six months, he had been
several times a Jacobite, and several times a WiUiam-
ite. Both Jacobites and WiUiamites regarded him with
contempt and distrust, which respect for his immense
* Mj chief materials for the Acta, the Minutes, and the Leven
history of this session have been the and Melville Papers.
352 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, power prevented them from fully expressing. After
^"^ repeatedly vowing fidelity to both parties, and re-
1689. peatedly betraying both, he began to think that he
should best provide for his safety by abdicating the
functions both of a peer and of a chieftain, by absent-
ing himself both from the Parliament House at Edin-
burgh and from his castle in the mountains, and by
quitting the country to which he was bound by every
tie of duty and honour at the very crisis of her £ate.
While all Scotland was waiting with impatience and
anxiety to see in which army his numerous retainers
would be arrayed, he stole away to England, settled
himself at Bath, and pretended to drink the waters.*
His principality, left without a head, was divided against
itself. The general leaning of the Athol men was
towards Bang James. For they had been employed by
him, only four years before, as the ministers of his ven-
geance against the House of Argyle. They had gar-
risoned Inverary: they had ravaged Lorn: they had
demolished houses, cut down fruit trees, burned fishing
boats, broken millstones, hanged Campbells, and were
therefore not likely to be pleased by the prospect of
Mac CaUum More's restoration. One word from the
Marquess would have sent two thousand clajonores to
the Jacobite side. But that word he would not speak ;
and the consequence was, that the conduct of his fol-
lowers was as irresolute and inconsistent as his own.
While they were waiting for some indication of his
wishes, they were called to arms at once by two leaders,
either of whom might, with some show of reason, claim
to be considered as the representative of the absent
chief. Lord Murray, the Marquess's eldest son, who
was married to a daughter of the Duke of Hamilton,
♦ '' Athol," says Dundee con- See Athol's letters to Mehrille of the
temptuously, "is gone to England, 21st of May and the 8th of June,
who did not know what to do." — in the Leven and Melville Pa-
Dundee to Melfort, June 27^ l689. pers.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 853
declared for King William. Stewart of Balleiiach, the chap..
Marquess's confidential agent, declared for King James.
The people knew not which summons to obey. He 1^89-
whose authority would have been held in profound
reverence, had plighted faith to both sides, and had
then run away for fear of being under the necessity of
joining either ; nor was it very easy to say whether the
place which he had left vacant belonged to his steward
or to his heir apparent.
The most important military post in Athol was Blair
Castle. The house which now bears that name is not
distinguished by any striking peculiarity from other
country seats of the aristocracy. The old building was
a lofly tower of rude architecture which commanded
a vale watered by the Garry. The walls would have
oflfered very little resistance to a battering train, but
were quite strong enough to keep the herdsmen of the
Grampians in awe. About five miles south of this
stronghold, the valley of the Garry contracts itself
into the celebrated glen of KiUiecrankie. At present a
highway as smooth as any road in Middlesex ascends
gently from the low country to the summit of the de-
file. White villas peep from the birch forest ; and, on
a fine summer day, there is scarcely a turn of the pass
at which may not be seen some angler casting his fly on
the foam of the river, some artist sketching a pinnacle
of rock, or some party of pleasure banqueting on the
turf in the fretwork of shade and sunshine. But, in
the days of William the Third, Killiecrankie was men-
tioned with horror by the peaceful and industrious in-
habitants of the Perthshire lowlands. It was deemed
the most perilous of all those dark ravines through
which the marauders of the hills were wont to sally
forth. The sound, so musical to modem ears, of the
river brawling round the mossy rocks and among the
smooth pebbles, the dark masses of crag and verdure
worthy of the pencil of Wilson, the fantastic peaks
VOL. ni. A A
854 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, bathed, at sunrise and sunset, with light rich as that
^"^' which glows on the canvass of Claude, suggested to our
i^*S9. ancestors thoughts of murderous ambuscades and of
bodies stripped, gashed, and abandoned to the birds of
prey. The only path was narrow and rugged : a horse
could with difficulty be led up : two men could hardly
walk abreast ; and, in some places, the way ran so close
by the precipice that the traveller had great need of a
steady eye and foot. Many years later, the first Duke
of Athol constructed a road up which it was just pos-
sible to drag his coach. But even that road was so
steep and so strait that a handful of resolute men
might have defended it against an army * ; nor did any
Saxon consider a visit to Killiecrankie as a pleasure,
till experience had taught the English Government that
the weapons by which the Highlanders could be most
eflFectually subdued were the pickaxe and the spade.
The war The country which lay just above this pass was now
^"^'n'in "* *^® theatre of a war such as the Highlands had not
the High- often witnessed. Men wearing the same tartan, and
attached to the same lord, were arrayed against each
other. The name of the absent chief was used, with
some show of reason, on both sides. Ballenach, at the
head of a body of vassals who considered him as the
representative of the Marquess, occupied Blair Castle-
Murray, with twelve hundred followers, appeared before
the waJls and demanded to be admitted into the man-
sion of his family, the mansion which would one day
be his own. The garrison refiised to open the gates.
Messages were sent off by the besiegers to Edinburgh,
and by the besieged to Lochaber.f In both places the
tidings produced great agitation. Mackay and Dundee
agreed in thinking that the crisis required prompt and
strenuous exertion. On the fate of Blair Castle pro-
bably depended the fate of all Athol. On the fate of
* Memoirs of Sir Ewan Cameron. f Mackay 's Memoirs.
WILLIAM AKD MARY. 355
Athol might depend the fate of Scotland. Mackay has- chap.
tened northward, and ordered his troops to assemble in ^"^'
the low country of Perthshire. Some of them were 1^89.
quartered at such a distance that they did not arrive in
time. He soon, however, had with him the three Scotch
regiments which had served in Holland, and which bore
the names of their Colonels, Mackay himself, Balfour,
and Ramsay. There was also a gallant regiment of
infimtry from England, then called Hastings's, but now
known as the thirteenth of the line. With these old
troops were joined two regiments newly levied in the
Lowlands. One of them was commanded by Lord
Eenmore ; the other, which had been raised on the Bor-
der, and which is still styled the King's own Borderers,
by Lord Leven. Two troops of horse, Lord Annan-
dale's and Lord Belhaven's, probably made up the army
to the number of above three thousand men. Belha-
ven rode at the head of his troop : but Annandale, the
most facdouB of all Montgomery's followers, preferred
the Club and the Parliament House to the field.*
Dundee, meanwhile, had summoned all the clans
which acknowledged his commission to assemble for
an expedition into Athol. His exertions were strenu-
ously seconded by Lochiel. The fiery crosses were sent
again in all haste through Appin and Ardnamurchan,
up Glemnore, and along Loch Leven. But the call
was so imexpected, and the time allowed was so short,
that the muster was not a very full one. The whole
number of broadswords seems to have been under
three thousand. With this force, such as it was,
Dundee set forth. On his march he was joined by
succours which had just arrived from Ulster. They
consisted of little more than three hundred Irish foot,
ill armed, ill clothed, and ill disciplined. Their com-
mander was an officer named Cannon, who had seen
* Mackay's Memoirs.
A A 2
856 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, service in the Netherlands, and who might perhaps
, have acquitted himself well in a subordinate post and
3689. in a regular army, but who was altogether unequal to
the part now assigned to him.* He had already loitered
among the Hebrides so long that some ships which had
been sent with him, and which were laden with stores,
had been taken by English cruisers. He and his sol-
diers had with difficulty escaped the same fate. In-
competent as he was, he bore a commission which gave
him military rank in Scotland next to Dundee.
The disappointment was severe. In truth James
would have done better to withhold all assistance from
the Highlanders than to mock them by sending them,
instead of the well appointed army which they had
asked and expected, a rabble contemptible in numbers
and appearance. It was now evident that whatever
was done for his cause in Scotland must be done by
Scottish hands.f
While Mackay from one side, and Dundee from the
other, were advancing towards Blair Castle, important
events had taken place there. Murray's adherents soon
began to waver in their fidelity to him. They had an
old antipathy to Whigs ; for they considered the name
of Whig as synonymous with the name of Campbell.
They saw arrayed against them a large number of their
kinsmen, commanded by a gentleman who was sup-
posed to possess the confidence of the Marquess. The
besieging army therefore melted rapidly away. Many
returned home on the plea that, as their neighbourhood
was about to be the seat of war, they must place their
families ajid cattle in security. Others more ingenu-
ously declared that they would not fight in such a
quarrel. One large body went to a brook, filled their
bonnets with water, drank a health to King James, and
then dispersed.^ Their zeal for King James, however,
♦ Van Odyck to the Greffier of f Memoirs of Sir Ewan Cameron,
the States General, Aug. ^, I689. % Balcarras's Memoirs.
WILLIAM AND MAEY. ^ 357
did not induce them to join the standard of his general, chap.
They lurked among the rocks and thickets which over- ^'^'
hang the Garry, in the hope that there would soon be 1689.
a battle, and that, whatever might be the event, there
would be fugitives and corpses to plunder.
Murray was in a strait. His force had dwindled to
three or four hundred men : even in those men he could
put little trust; and the Macdonalds and Camerons
were advancing fast. He therefore raised the siege of
Blair Castle, and retired with a few followers into the
defile of Edlliecrankie. There he was soon joined by a
detachment of two hundred fiisileers whom Mackay had
sent forward to secure the pass. The main body of the
Lowland army speedily followed.*
Early in the morning of Saturday the twenty^seventh
of July, Dundee arrived at Blair Castle. There he
learned that Mackay's troops were already in the ravine
of Eilliecrankie. It was necessary to come to a prompt
decision. A council of war was held. The Saxon offi-
cers were generally against hazarding a battle. The
Celtic chiefe were of a different opinion. Glengarry
and Lochiel were now both of a mind. " Fight, my
Lord,** said Lochiel with his usual energy; "fight im-
mediately: fight, if you have only one to three. Our
men are in heart. Their only fear is that the enemy
should escape. Give them their way; and be assured
that they will either perish or gain a complete victory.
But if you restrain them, if you force them to remain
on the defensive, I answer for nothing. K we do not
fight, we had better break up and retire to our moun-
tains."t
Dundee's countenance brightened. " You hear, gen-
tlemen," he said to his Lowland officers ; " you hear
the opinion of one who understands Highland war bet-
ter than any of us." No voice was raised on the other
* Madurr's Short Relation^ dated f Memoirs of Sir Ewan Came*
Aug. 17. 1689. ron.
A A 3
858 . HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Bide. It was determined to fight; and the confede-
1 rated clans in high spirits set forward to encounter the
1689. enemy.
The enemy meanwhile had made his way up the
pass. The ascent had been long and toilsome: for
even the foot had to climb by twos and threes; and
the baggage horses, twelve hundred in number, could
mount only one at a time. No wheeled carriage had
ever been tugged up that arduous path. The head of
the column had emerged and was on the table land,
while the rearguard was still in the plain below. At
length the passage was eflFected; and the troops found
themselves in a valley of no great extent. Their right
was flanked by a rising ground, their left by the Garry.
Wearied with the morning's work, they threw themselves
on the grass to take some rest and refreshment.
Early in the afternoon, they were roused by an alarm
that the Highlanders were approaching. Regiment
after regiment started up and got into order. In a little
while the summit of an ascent which was about a musket
shot before them was covered with bonnets and plaids.
Dundee rode forward for the purpose of surveying the
force with which he was to contend, and then drew up
his own men with as much skill as their peculiar cha-
racter permitted him to exert. It was desirable to keep
the clans distinct. Each tribe, large or small, formed
a column separated from the next column by a wide in-
terval. One of these battalions might contain seven
hundred men, while another consisted of only a hun-
dred and twenty. Lochiel had represented that it was
impossible to mix men of different tribes without de-
stroying all that constituted the peculiar strength of a
Highland army.*
On the right, close to the Garry, were the Macleans.
Next to them were Cannon and his Irish foot. Then
came the Macdonalds of Clanronald, commanded by the
* Memoirs of Sir Ewan Cameron ; Mackay's Memoirs.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 359
guardian of their young prince. On the left were other chap.
bands of Macdonalds. At the head of one large bat- z^"''
talion towered the stately form of Glengarry, who bore 1C89.
in his hand the royal standard of King James the
Seventh.* Still ftirther to the left were the cavalry, a
small squadron consisting of some Jacobite gentlemen
who had fled from the Lowlands to the mountains and
of about forty of Dundee's old troopers. The horses
had been ill fed and ill tended among the Grampians,
and looked miserably lean and feeble. Beyond them
was Lochiel with his Camerons. On the extreme left,
the men of Sky were marshalled by Macdonald of
Sleat.t
In the Highlands, as in all countries where war has
not become a science, men thought it the most important
duty of a commander to set an example of personal
courage and of bodily exertion. Lochiel was especially
renowned for his physical prowess. His clansmen
looked big with pride when they related how he had
himself broken hostile ranks and hewn down tall war-
riors. He probably owed quite as much of his influence
to these achievements as to the high qualities which, if
fortune had placed him in the English Parliament or at
the French court, would have made him one of the fore-
most men of his age. He had the sense however to
perceive how erroneous was the notion which his coun-
trymen had formed. He knew that to give and to take
blows was not the business of a general. He knew
with how much difficulty Dundee had been able to
keep together, during a few days, an army composed
of several clans; and he knew that what Dundee had
e£fected with difficulty Cannon would not be able to
effect at all. The life on which so much depended
most not be sacrificed to a barbarous prejudice. Lo-
chiel therefore adjured Dundee not to run into any
unnecessary danger. " Your Lordship's business," he
* Doii£^*i Baronage of Scotland. f Memoirs of Sir Ewan Cameron.
A A 4
360 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, said, " is to overlook every thing, and to issue your com-
^"' mands. Our business is to execute those commands
1689. bravely and promptly." Dundee answered with calm
magnanimity that there was much weight in what his
friend Sir Ewan had urged, but that no general could
eflfcct any thing great without possessing the confidence
of his men. " I must establish my character for cou-
rage. Your people expect to see their leaders in the
thickest of the battle ; and to day they shall see me
there. I promise you, on my honour, that in future
fights I will take more care of myself."
Meanwhile a fire of musketry was kept up on both
sides, but more skilfully and more steadily by the re-
gular soldiers than by the mountaineers. The space
between the armies was one cloud of smoke. Not a few
Highlanders dropped; and the clans grew impatient.
The sun however was low in the west before Dundee
gave the order to prepare for action. His men raised a
great shout. The enemy, probably exhausted by the
toil of the day, returned a feeble and wavering cheer.
" We shall do it now," said Lochiel : " that is not the
cry of men who are going to win." He had walked
through all his ranks, had addressed a few words to
every Cameron, and had taken from every Cameron a
promise to conquer or die.*
It was past seven o'clock. Dundee gave the word.
The Highlanders dropped their plaids. The few who
were so luxurious as to wear rude socks of untanned
hide spumed them away. It was long remembered in
Lochaber that Lochiel took off what probably was the
only pair of shoes in his clan, and charged barefoot at
the head of his men. The whole line advanced firing.
The enemy returned the fire and did much execution.
When only a small space was left between the armies,
the Highlanders suddenly flung away their firelocks,
drew their broadswords, and rushed forward with a
* Memoirs of Sir £wan Cameron.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 861
fearful yell. The Lowlanders prepared to receive the chap.
shock; but this was then a long and awkward process;
and the soldiers were still fiimbling with the muzzles of i^*®^-
their guns and the handles of their bayonets when the
whole flood of Macleans, Macdonalds, and Camerons
came down. In two minutes the battle was lost and won.
The ranks of Balfour's regiment broke. He was cloven
down while struggling in the press. Ramsay's men
turned their backs and dropped their arms. Mackay's
own foot were swept away by the furious onset of the
Camerons. His brother and nephew exerted themselves
in vain to rally the men. The former was laid dead on
the ground by a stroke from a claymore. The latter,
with eight wounds on his body, made his way through
the tumult and carnage to his uncle's side. Even in
thiit extremity Mackay retained all his selfpossession.
He had stiU one hope. A charge of horse might reco-
ver the day; for of horse the bravest Highlanders were
supposed to stand in awe. But he called on the horse
in vain. Belhaven indeed behaved like a gallant gen-
tleman : but his troopers, appalled by the rout of the
in&ntry, galloped off in disorder: Annandale's men
followed: all was over; and the mingled torrent of red-
coats and tartans went raving down the valley to the
gorge of EiUiecrankie.
Mackay, accompanied by one trusty servant, spurred
bravely through the thickest of the claymores and tar-
gets, and reached a point from which he had a view of
the field. His whole army had disappeared, with the
exception of some Borderers whom Leven had kept
together, and of Hastings's regiment, which had poured
a murderous fire into the Celtic ranks, and which still
kept unbroken order. All the men that could be col-
lected were only a few hundreds. The general made
haste to lead them across the Grarry, and, having put
that river between them and the enemy, paused for a
moment to moditate on his situation.
362 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. He could hardly understand how the conquerors
"^' could be so unwise as to allow him even that moment
1689. for deliberation. They might with ease have killed or
taken all who were with him before the night closed
in. But the energy of the Celtic warriors had spent
itself in one fiirious rush and one short struggle.
The pass was choked by the twelve hundred beasts of
burden which carried the provisions and baggage of
the vanquished army. Such a booty was irffesistibly
tempting to men who were impelled to war quite as
much by the desire of rapine as by the desire of glory.
It is probable that few even of the chiefs were disposed
to leave so rich a prize for the sake of King James.
Dundee himself might at that moment have been unable
to persuade his followers to quit the heaps of spoil, and
to complete the great work of the day ; and Dundee
was no more.
Death of At the beginning of the action he had taken his place
in front of his little band of cavalry. He bade them
follow him, and rode forward. But it seemed to be
decreed that, on that day, the Lowland Scotch should
in both armies appear to disadvantage. The horse he-
sitated. Dundee turned round, stood up in his stirrups,
and, waving his hat, invited them to come on. As he
lifted his arm, his cuirass rose, and exposed the lower
part of his left side. A musket ball struck him ; his
horse sprang forward and plunged into a cloud of smoke
and dust, which hid from both armies the fall of the
victorious general. A person named Johnstone was near
him and caught him as he sank down from the saddle.
" How goes the day?" said Dundee. "Well for King
James;" answered Johnstone: "but I am sony for
Your Lordship." " If it is well for him," answered the
dying man, "it matters the less for me." He never
spoke again ; but when, half an hour later. Lord Dun-
fermline and some other friends came to the spot, they
thought that they could still discern some faint remains
Dundee.
WILLIAM AND MAKT. 363
of life. The body, wrapped in two plaids, was carried chap.
to the Castle of Blair.^ ^"^
Mackay, who was ignorant of Dundee's fate, and well i^9.
acquainted with Dundee's skill and activity, expected Sf**^*^
to be instantly and hotly pursued, and had very little ex-
pectation of being able to save even the scanty remains
of the vanquished army. He could not retreat by the
pass : for the Highlanders were already there. He there-
fore resolved to push across the mountains towards the
valley of the Tay. He soon overtook two or three hun-
dred of his runaways who had taken the same road.
Most of them belonged to Ramsay's regiment, and must
have seen service. But they were unarmed : they
were utterly bewildered by the recent disaster ; and the
general could find among them no remains either of
martial discipline or of martial spirit. His situation was
one which must have severely tried the firmest nerves.
Night had set in : he was in a desert : he had no guide :
a victorious enemy was, in all human probability, on
his track ; and he had to provide for the safety of a
crowd of men who had lost both head and heart. He
had just sufTered a defeat of all defeats the most painful
and humiliating. His domestic feelings had been not
less severely wounded than his professional feelings.
One dear tinsman had just been struck dead before his
eyes. Another, bleeding from many wounds, moved
feebly at his side. But the unfortunate general's cou-
rage was sustained by a firm faith in God, and a high
sense of duty to the state. In the midst of misery
* As to the battle, see Mackay's the battle. I need not saj that it
Memoin, Letters, and Short Relation; is as impudent a forgery as Fingal.
die Memdn of Dundee; Memoirs The author of the Memoirs of
of Sir Ewn Cameron; Nisbet's and Dundee says that Lord Leven was
Osbnme's depositions in the Appen- scared by the sight of the Highland
dix to the Act. Pari, of July 14. weapons, and set the example of
l6ga See aho the account of the flight. This is a spiteful falsehood,
battle in one of Burt's Letters. That Leven behaved remarkably well
MaqihenQn printed a letter from is proved by Mackay's Letters, Me-
Dundee to James, dated the day after moirs, and Short Rdation.
364 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, and disgrace, lie still held his head nobly erect, and
^^"' found fortitude, not only for himself, but for all around
1089. him. His first care was to be sure of his road. A
solitary light which twinkled through the darkness
guided hiTYi to a small hovel. The inmates spoke no
tongue but the Gaelic, and were at first scared by
the appearance of uniforms and arms. But Mackay's
gentle manner removed their apprehension : their lan-
guage had been familiar to him in childhood ; and he
retained enough of it to communicate with them. By
their directions, and by the help of a pocket map, in
which the routes through that wild country were
roughly laid down, he was able to find his way. He
marched all night. When day broke his task was more
difficult than ever. Light increased the terror of his
companions. Hastings's men and Leven's men indeed
still behaved themselves like soldiers. But the fugitives
from Kamsay's were a mere rabble. They had flung
away their muskets. The broadswords from which
they had fled were ever in their eyes. Every fresh
object caused a fresh panic. A company of herdsmen
in plaids driving cattle was magnified by imagination
into a host of Celtic warriors. Some of the runaways
left the main body and fled to the hills, where their
cowardice met with a proper punishment. They were
killed for their coats and shoes ; and their naked car-
casses were left for a prey to the eagles of Ben Lawers.
The desertion would have been much greater, had not
Mackay and his officers, pistol in hand, threatened to
blow out the brains of any man whom they caught
attempting to steal ofi^
At length the weary fugitives came in sight of Weems
Castle. The proprietor of the mansion was a friend to
the new government, and extended to them such hos-
pitality as was in his power. His stores of oatmeal
were brought out : kine were slaughtered ; and a rude
and hasty meal was set before the numerous guests.
WILLIAM AND MART. 865
Thus refreshed, they again set forth, and marched all chap.
day over bog, moor, and mountain. Thinly inhabited ^"^
as the country was, they could plainly see that the 1^89.
report of their disaster had already spread far, and that
the population was every where in a state of great
excitement. Late at night they reached Castle Drum-
mond, which was held for King William by a small
garrison; and, on the following day, they proceeded
with less difficulty to Stirling.*
The tidings of their defeat had outrun them. All Effect of
Scotland was in a ferment. The disaster had indeed ^*xU{|^t
been great : but it was exaggerated by the wild hopes crankie.
of one party and by the wild fears of the other. It
was at first believed that the whole army of King
William had perished; that Mackay himself had &llen;
that Dundee, at the head of a great host of barbarians,
flushed with victory and impatient for spoil, had already
descended from the hills; that he was master of the
whole country beyond the Forth ; that Fife was up to
join him; that in three days he would be at Stirling;
that in a week he would be at Holyrood. Messengers
were sent to urge a regiment which lay in Northum-
berland to hasten across the border. Others carried
to London earnest entreaties that His Majesty would
instantly send every soldier that could be spared, nay,
that he would come himself to save his northern king-
dom. The £Bu^ions of the Parliament House, awe- The Scot-
struck by the common danger, forgot to wrangle. Cour- uamenT
tiers and malecontents with one voice implored the »^°'»™«^
Lord High Commissioner to close the session, and to
dismiss them from a place where their deliberations
might soon be interrupted by the mountaineers. It was
seriously considered whether it might not be expedient
to abandon Edinburgh, to send the numerous state
prisoners who were in the Castle and the Tolbooth on
* Mackay*! Memoirs. Life of General Hugh Mackay by J. Mackay
of Rockfleld.
866 HISTOEY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, board of a man of war which lay off Leith, and to
^"^ transfer the seat of government to Glasgow.
1689. The news of Dimdee's victory was every where
speedily followed by the news of his death; and it is
a strong proof of the extent and vigour of his fSetculties,
that his death seems every where to have been regarded
as a complete setoff against his victory. Hamilton, before
he adjourned the Estates, informed them that he had
good tidings for them ; that Dundee was certainly dead ;
and that therefore the rebels had on the whole sustained
a defeat. In several letters written at that conjuncture
by able and experienced politicians a similar opinion
is expressed. The messenger who rode with the news
of the battle to the English Court was fast followed
by another who carried a despatch for the King, and,
not finding His Majesty at Saint James's, galloped to
Hampton Court. Nobody in the capital ventured to
break the seal ; but fortimately, after the letter had been
closed, some friendly hand had hastily written on the
outside a few words of comfort: "Dundee is killed.
Mackay has got to Stirling : " and these words quieted
the minds of the Londoners.*
From the pass of Killiecrankie the Highlanders had
retired, proud of their victory, and laden with spoil, to
the Castle of Blair. They boasted that the field of bat-
tle was covered with heaps of the Saxon soldiers, and
that the appearance of the corpses bore ample testi-
mony to the power of a good Gaelic broadsword in a
good Graelic right hand. Heads were found cloven down
to the throat, and sculls struck clean off just above the
ears. The conquerors however had bought their vic-
tory dear. While they were advancing, they had been
much galled by the musketry of the enemy; and^ even
after the decisive charge, Hastings's Englishmen and
* Letter of the Extraordinary and a letter of the same date from
Ambassadors to the Greffier of the Van Odyck, who was at Hampton
States General, August ^. 1 689; Court.
WILLIAM AND MARY, 867
iK>me of Leven's borderers had continued to keep up a chap.
steady fire. A hundred and twenty Camerons had been ^'
slain : the loss of the Macdonalds had been still greater; i^S9*
and several gentlemen of birth and note had fallen.*
Dundee was buried in the church of Blair Athol:
but no monument was erected over his grave; and the
church itself has long disappeared. A rude stone on
the field of battle marks, if local tradition can be trusted,
the place where he fell,f During the last three months
of his life he had approved himself a great warrior and
politician; and his name is therefore mentioned with
respect by that large class of persons who think that
there is no excess of wickedness for which courage and
ability do not atone.
It is curious that the two most remarkable battles
that perhaps were ever gained by irregular over regular
troops should have been fought in the same week; the
battle of Killiecrankie, and the battle of Newton Butler.
In both battles the success of the irregular troops was
singularly rapid and complete. In both battles the
panic of the regular troops, in spite of the conspicuous
example of courage set by their generals, was singu-
larly disgracefiil. It ought also to be noted that, of
these extraordinary victories, one was gained by Celts
over Saxons, and the other by Saxons over Celts. The
victory of EiUiecrankie indeed, though neither more
splendid nor more important than the victory of Newton
Butler, is fer more widely renowned ; and the reason
is evident. The Anglosaxon and the Celt have been
reconciled in Scotland, and have never been reconciled
in Ireland. In Scotland all the great actions of both
races are thrown into a common stock, and are considered
as making up the glory which belongs to the whole
country. So completely has the old antipathy been
* Memoirs of Sir Ewan Came- more than a hundred and twenty
rem ; Memoin of Dundee. years old. The stone was pointed
f TIm tradition is certainly much out to Bart.
868 msTORY OF England.
CHAP, extinguished that nothing is more usual than to hear
1 a Lowlander talk with complacency and even with pride
d6S9. of the most humiliating defeat that his ancestors ever
underwent. It would be difficult to name any eminent
man in whom national feeling and clannish feeling were
stronger than in Sir Walter Scott. Yet when Sir Wal-
ter Scott mentioned Eilliecrankie he seemed utterly
to forget that he was a Saxon, that he was of the same
blood and of the same speech with Ramsay's foot and
Annandale's horse. His heart swelled with triumph
when he related how his own kindred had fled like hares
before a smaller number of warriors of a different breed
and of a different tongue.
In Ireland the feud remains imhealed. The name of
Newton Butler, insultingly repeated by a minority, is
hateful to the great majority of the population. K a
monument were set up on the field of battle, it would
probably be defaced: if a festival were held in Cork or
Waterford on the anniversary of the battle, it would
probably be interrupted by violence. The most illus-
trious Irish poet of our time would have thought it
treason to his country to sing the praises of the con-
querors. One of the most learned and diligent Irish
archaeologists of our time has laboured, not indeed very
successfully, to prove that the event of the day was
decided by a mere accident from which the Englishry
could derive no glory. We cannot wonder that the
victory of the Highlanders should be more celebrated
than the victory of the Enniskilleners, when we con-
sider that the victory of the Highlanders is matter of
boast to all Scotland, and that the victory of the Ennis-
killeners is matter of shame to three fourths of Ireland.
As far as the great interests of the State were con-
cerned, it mattered not at all whether the battle of
KiUiecrankie were lost or won. It is very improbable
that even Dundee, if he had survived the most glorious
day of his life, could have surmounted those difficulties
WILLIAM AKD MABT. 369
which sprang firom the peculiar nature of his army, chap.
and which would have increased tenfold as soon as the ^"^'
war was transferred to the Lowlands, It is certain that 1689.
his successor was altogether unequal to the task. Du-
ring a day or two, indeed, the new general might flatter
himself that all would go well. His army was rapidly The High-
swollen to near double the number o£ claymores that J^JnfoS
Dundee had commanded. The Stewarts of Appin, who,
though fiill of zeal, had not been able to come up in
time for the battle, were among the first who arrived.
Several clans, which had hitherto waited to see which
side was the stronger, were now eager to descend on
the Lowlands under the standard of King James the
Seventh. The Grants indeed continued to bear true alle-
giance to William and Mary ; and the Mackintoshes were
kept neutral by unconquerable aversion to Keppoch.
But Macphersons, Farquharsons, and Frasers came in
crowds to the camp at Blair. The hesitation of the
Athol men was at an end. Many of them had lurked,
during the fight, among the crags and birch trees of
Killiecrankie, and, as soon as the event of the day was
decided, had emerged firom those hiding places to strip
and butcher the fiigitives who tried to escape by the
pass. The Robertsons, a Gaelic race, though bearing a
Saxon name, gave in at this conjuncture their adhesion
to the cause of the exiled king. Their chief Alexander,
who took his appellation from his lordship of Struan,
was a very young man and a student at the University
of Saint Andrew's. He had there acquired a smattering
of letters, and had been initiated much more deeply
into Tory politics. He now joined the Highland army,
and continued, through a long life, to be constant to the
Jacobite cause. His part, however, in public alBTairs
was so insignificant that his name would not now be-
remembered, if he had not left a volume of poems, always
yery stupid and oft«n very profligate. Had this book
been manufactured in Grub Street, it would scarcely
VOL. m. B B
370 raSTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, have been honoured with a quarter of a line in the
XIII •
L Dunciad. But it attracted some notice on account of
1689- the situation of the •writer. For, a hundred and twenty
years ago, an eclogue or a lampoon written by a High-
land chief was a literary portent.*
But, though the numerical strength of Cannon's forces
was increasing, their efficiency was diminishing. Every
new tribe which joined the camp brought with it some
new cause of dissension. In the hour of peril, the most
arrogant and mutinous spirits will often submit to the
guidance of superior genius. Yet, even in the hour of
peril, and even to the genius of Dundee, the Celtic chie&
had* yielded but a precarious and imperfect obedience.
To restrain them, when intoxicated with success and
confident of their strength, would probably have been
too hard a task even for him, as it had been, in the pre-
cedinff generation, too hard a task for Montrose. The new
J did nothh>g bat hedtate «,d blunder. One of
his first acts was to send a large body of men, chiefly
Robertsons, down into the low country for the purpose
of collecting provisions. He seems to have supposed
that this detachment would without difliculty occupy
Perth. But Mackay had already restored order among
the remains of his army : he had assembled round him
some troops which had not shared in the disgrace of the
late defeat ; and he was again ready for action. Cruel
as his sufferings had been, he had wisely and magnani-
mously resolved not to punish what was past. To dis-
tinguish between degrees of guilt was not easy. To
decimate the guilty would have been to commit a fright-
ful massacre. His habitual piety too led him to con-
sider the unexampled panic which had seized his soldiers
* See the History prefixed to the evidence which is in the Appendix
poems of Alexander Robertson. In to the Act. Pari. Scot of July 14.
this history he is represented lis hav- I69O, that he came in on tlw follow-
ing joined before the battle of Killie- ing day.
crankie. But it appears from the
WILLIAM AND MARY. 371
as a proof rather of the divine displeasure than of their chap.
cowardice. He acknowledged with heroic humility that ^^^
the singular firmness which he had himself displayed in 1689.
the midst of the confusion and havoc was not his own,
and that he might well, but for the support of a higher
power, have behaved as pusiUanimously as any of the
wretched runaways who had thrown away their wea-
pons and implored quarter in vain from the barbaroua
marauders of Athol. His dependence on heaven did
not, however, prevent him from applying himself vigor-
ously to the work of providing, as far as human pru-
dence could provide, against the recurrence of such a
calamity as that which he had just experienced. The
immediate cause of his defeat was the difficulty of fixing
bayonets. The firelock of the Highlander was quite
distinct from the weapon which he used in close fight.
He discharged his shot, threw away his gun, and fell
on with his sword. This was the work of a moment.
It took the regular musketeer two or three minutes to
alter his mbsile weapon into a weapon with which he
could encounter an enemy hand to hand ; and during
these two or three minutes the event of the battle of
Killiecrankie had been decided. Mackay therefore or-
dered all his bayonets to be so formed that they might
be screwed upon the barrel without stopping it up, and
that his men might be able to receive a charge the very
instant after firing.*
As soon as he learned that a detachment of the Gaelic skirmish
army was advancing towards Perth, he hastened to jo^iJ^n.^.
meet them at the head of a body of dragoons who had
Bot been in the battle, and whose spirit was therefore
imbroken. On Wednesday the thirty first of July,
only four days after his defeat, he fell in with the Ro-
bertsons near Saint Johnston's, attacked them, routed
ihem^ killed a hundred and twenty of them, and took
* Mackay 'a Memoire.
DB 2
372 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, thirty prisoners, with the loss of only a single soldier.*
1 This skirmish produced an eflfect quite out of proportion
1689. to the number of the combatants or of the slain. The
reputation of the Celtic arms went down almost as fast
as it had risen. During two or three days it had been
every where imagined that those arms were invincible.
There was now a reaction. It was perceived that what
had happened at Eilliecrankie was an exception to ordi-
nary rules, and that the Highlanders were not, except
in very peculiar circumstances, a match for good re-
gular soldiers.
Disorders Meanwhile the disorders of Cannon's camp went on
Hi^and ii^crcasing. He called a council of war to consider what
»™7- course it would be advisable to take. But as soon as
the council had met, a preliminary question was raised.
Who were entitled to be consulted ? The army was
ahnost exclusively a Highland army. The recent vic-
tory had been won exclusively by Highland warriors.
Great chiefs, who had brought six or seven hundred
fighting men into the field, did not think it fair that
they should be outvoted by gentlemen from Ireland and
from the low country, who bore indeed King James's
commission, and were called Colonels and Captains, but
who were Colonels without regiments and Captains
without companies. Lochiel spoke strongly in behalf
of the class to which he belonged : but Cannon decided
that the votes of the Saxon oflicers should be reckoned.f
It was next considered what was to be the plan of the
campaign. Lochiel was for advancing, for marching
towards Mackay wherever Mackay might be, and for
giving battle again. It can hardly be supposed that
success had so turned the head of the wise chief of the
Camerons as to make him insensible of the danger of
the course which he reconunended. But he probably
conceived that nothing but a choice between dangers
* Mackay's Memoirs ; Memoirs t Memoirs of Sir Ewan Cameron,
of Sir £wan Cameron.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 373
was left to him. His notion was that vigorous action chap.
o^
XIIL
was necessary to the very being of a Highland army, and
that the coalition of clans would last only while they 1^89.
were impatiently pushing forward from battlefield to
battlefield. He was again overruled. All his hopes of
success were now at an end. His pride was severely
wounded. He had submitted to the ascendency of a
great captain : but he cared as little as any Whig for a
royal commission. He had been wiUing to be the right
hand of Dundee : but he would not be ordered about
by Cannon* He quitted the camp, and retired to Loch-
aber. He indeed directed his clan to remain. But the
clan, deprived of the leader whom it adored^ and aware
that he had withdrawn himself in ill humour, was no
longer the same terrible column which had a few days
before kept so well the vow to perish or to conquer.
Macdonald of Sleat, whose forces exceeded in number
those of any other of the confederate chiefs, followed
Lochiel's example and returned to Sky.*
Mackay's arrangements were by this time complete ; Macka.v;8
and he had little doubt that, if the rebels came down to ^^rf^"'
attack him, the regular army would retrieve the honour ^ *^e
which had been lost at Killiecrankie. His chief diflBi- ministers.
culties arose from the unwise interference of the mi-
nisters of the Crown at Edinburgh with matters which
ought to have been left to his direction. The truth
seems to be that they, after the ordinary fashion of men
who, having no military experience, sit in judgment on
military operations, considered success as the only test
of the ability of a commander. Whoever wins a battle
is, in the estimation of such persons, a great general :
whoever is beaten is a bad general ; and no general
had ever been more completely beaten than Mackay.
William, on the other hand, continued to place entire
confidence in his unfortunate lieutenant. To the dispa-
* Memoirs of Sir Ewan Cameron.
B B 3
37i HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, raging remarks of critics who had never seen a skirmish,
- Portland replied, by his master's orders, that Mackay
1689. ^as perfectly trustworthy, that he was brave, that he
understood war better than any other officer in Scot-
land, and that it was much to be regretted that any
prejudice should exist against so good a man and so
good a soldier. *
The Ca- The unjust contempt with which the Scotch Privy
stafk.n*^t Councillors regarded Mackay led them into a great error
Dunkeid. which might well have caused a great disaster. The
Cameronian regiment was sent to garrison Dunkeid.
Of this arrangement Mackay altogether disapproved.
He knew that at Dunkeid these troops would be near
the enemy; that they would be far from all assistance;
that they would be in an open town; that they would
be surrounded by a hostile population ; that they were
very imperfectly disciplined, though doubtless brave and
zealous; that they were regarded by the whole Jacobite
party throughout Scotland with peculiar malevolence;
and that in all probability some great effort would be
made to disgrace and destroy them.f
The General's opinion was disregarded ; and the
Cameronians occupied the post assigned to them. It
soon appeared that his forebodings were just. The
inhabitants of the country round Dunkeid furnished
Cannon with intelligence, and urged him to make a
bold push. The peasantry of Athol, impatient for spoil,
came in great numbers to swell his army. The regi-
ment hourly expected to be attacked, and became dis-
contented and turbulent. The men, intrepid, indeed,
both from constitution and from enthusiasm, but not
yet broken to habits of military submission, expostu-
lated with Cleland, who commanded them. They had,
they imagined, been recklessly, if not perfidiously, sent
• See Portland's Letters to Mel- t Mackay's Memoirs ; Memoirs
ville of April 22. and May 15. I69O, of Sir £wan Cameron,
in the Leven and Melvillu Papers.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 875
to certain destruction. They were protected by no chap.
Tamparts : they had a very scanty stock of ammunition : •
they were hemmed in by enemies. An officer might 16^9.
mount and gallop beyond reach of danger in an hour;
but the private soldier must stay and be butchered.
" Neither I," said Cleland, " nor any of my officers will,
in any extremity, abandon you. Bring out my horse,
all our horses; they shall be shot dead." These words
produced a complete change of feeling. The men an-
swered that the horses should not be shot, that they
wanted no pledge from their brave Colonel except his
word, and that they would run the last hazard with
him. They kept their promise well. The Puritan blood
waa now tiboroughly up ; and what that blood was when
it was up had been proved on many fields of battle.
That night the regiment passed under arms. On the The Hifrh-
moming of the following day, the twenty first of August, uck^he*^'
all the hills round Dunkeld were alive with bonnets J^^®"^ .
and plaids. Cannon's army was much larger than that are re-
which Dundee had commanded. More than a thousand ^"^*^
horses laden with baggage accompanied his march. Both
the horses and baggage were probably part of the booty
of Killiecrankie. The whole number of Highlanders was
estimated by those who saw them at from four to five
thousand men. They came furiously on. The out*
posts of the Cameronians were speedily driven in. The
assailants came pouring on every side into the streets.
The church, however, held out obstinately. But the
greater part of the regiment made its stand behind a
wall which surrounded a house belonging to the Marquess
of Athol. This wall, which had two or three days
before been hastily repaired with timber and loose
stones, the soldiers defended desperately with musket,
pike, and halbert. Their bullets were soon spent; but
some of the men were employed in cutting lead from
the roof of the Marquess's house and shaping it into
slugs. Meanwhile all the neighbouring houses were
B B 4
876 msTORY OF England.
CHAP, crowded firom top to bottom with Highlanders, who kept
1 up a galling fire from the windows. Cleland, while
1689. encouraging his men, was shot dead. The command
devolved on Major Henderson. In another minute
Henderson fell pierced with three mortal wounds. His
place was supplied by Captain Mimro, and the con-
test went on with uniminished fury. A jmrty of the
Cameronians sallied forth, set fire to the houses from
which the £a.tal shots had come, and turned the keys in
the doors. In one single dwelling sixteen of the enemy
were burnt alive. Those who were in the fight described
it as a terrible initiation for recruits. Half the town was
blazing; and with the incessant roar of the guns were
mingled the piercing shrieks of wretches perishing in
the flames. The struggle lasted four hours. By that
time the Cameronians were reduced nearly to their last
flask of powder ; but their spirit never flagged. " The
enemy will soon carry the wall. Be it so. We will
retreat into the house : we will defend it to the last ; and,
if they force their way into it, we will bum it over
their heads and our own," But, while they were revolv-
ing these desperate projects, they observed that the fiiry
of the assault slackened. Soon the Highlanders began
to fall back: disorder visibly spread among them; and
whole bands began to march off to the hills. It was in
vain that their general ordered them to return to the
attack. Perseverance was not one of their military
virtues. The Cameronians meanwhile, with shouts of
defiance, invited Amalek and Moab to come back and
to try another chance with the chosen people. But
these exhortations had as little effect as those of Can-
non. In a short time the whole Gaelic army was in
fiill retreat towards Blair. Then the drums struck
up : the victorious Puritans threw their caps into the
air, raised, with one voice, a psalm of triumph and
thanksgiving, and waved their colours, colours which
were on that day unfurled for the first time in the
WILLIAM AND MARY. 377
face of an enemy, but which have since been proudly chap.
borne in every quarter of the world, and which are now 1
embellished with the Sphinx and the Dragon, emblems 1^89.
of brave actions achieved in Egypt and in China.*
The Cameronians had good reason to be joyful and Dissolution
thankful; for they had finished the war. In the rebel HigUand
camp all was discord and dejection. The Highlanders anny.
blamed Cannon: Cannon blamed the Highlanders; and
the host which had been the terror of Scotland meltedfast
away. The confederate chiefs signed an association by
which they declared themselves faithful subjects of King
James, and bound themselves to meet again at a Aiture
time. Having gone through this form, — for it was no
more, — they departed, each to his home. Cannon and
his Irishmen retired to the Isle of Mull. The Lowlanders
who had followed Dundee to the mountains shifted for
themselves as they best could. On the twenty fourth
of August, exactly four weeks after the GaeKc army
had won the battle of Eilliecrankie, that army ceased to
exist. It ceased to exist, as the army of Montrose had,
more than forty years earlier, ceased to exist, not in
consequence of any great blow from without, but by
a natural dissolution, the effect of internal malforma-
tion. AU the fruits of victory were gathered by the
vanquished. The Castle of Blair, which had been the
immediate object of the contest, opened its gates to Mac-
kay; and a chain of military posts, extending north-
ward as &r as Inverness, protected the cultivators of
the plains against the predatory inroads of the moun-
taineers.
During the autumn the government was much more intrigues
annoyed by the Whigs of the low country, than by the ciub*:
* Exact Narrative of the Conflict Reference to those Actions; Letter of
at Dankeld between the Earl of Lieutenant Blackader to his brother^
Angus's R^ment and the Rebels^ dated Dunkeld, Aug. 21. 1689;
collected from several Officers of that Faithful Contendings Displayed ;
Regiment who were Actors in or Eye- Minute of the Scotch Privy Council
witnesses of all that's here narrated in of Aug. 28.^ quoted by Mr. Burton,
378 HISTOBY OF ENGLAiro.
CHAP. Jacobites of the hills. The Club, which had, in the late
1 session of Parliament, attempted to turn the kingdom
1689. into an oligarchical republic, and which had induced
Lowlands!* the Estatcs to refuse supplies and to stop the admini-
stration of justice, continued to sit during the recess,
and harassed the mmisters of the Crown by systematic
agitation. The organization of this body, contemptible
as it may appear to the generation which has seen the
Roman Uatholic Association and the League against the
Com Laws, was then thought marvellous and formidable.
The leaders of the confederacy boasted that they would
force the King to do them right. They got up petitions
and addresses, tried to inflame the populace by means
of the press and the pulpit, employed emissaries among
the soldiers, and talked of bringing up a large body of
Covenanters from the west to overawe the Privy Coun-
cil. Li spite of every artifice, however, the ferm^it of
the public mind gradually subsided. The Government,
after some hesitation, ventured to open the Courts of Jus-
tice which the Estates had closed. The Lords of Session
appointed by the King took their seats; and Sir James
Dalrymple presided. The Club attempted to induce the
advocates to absent themselves from the bar, and en-
tertained some hope that the mob would pull the judges
from the bench. But it speedily became clear that there
was much more likely to be a scarcity of fees than of
lawyers to take them : the common people of Edinburgh
were well pleased to see again a tribunal associated in
their minds with the dignity and prosperity of their
city; and by many signs it appeared that the false and
greedy faction which had commanded a majority of the
legislature did not command a majority of the nation.*
* The history of Scotland during this autumn will be best studied in
the Leven and Mehilie Papers.
WILLIAM AND MARY, 379
CHAPTER XIV.
Twramr foub hours before the war m Scotland was chap.
brought to a close by the discomfiture of the Celtic ^^^'
army at Dunkeld, the Parliament broke up at West- 1689-
minster. The Houses had sate eyer since January pispates
without a recess. The Commons, who were cooped up Sh*p]^^
in a narrow space, had suffered severely jfrom heat and liament
discomfort; and the health of many members had given
way. The fruit however had not been proportioned to
the toiL The last three months of the session iiad been
almost entirely wasted in disputes, which have left no
trace in the Statute Book. The progress of salutary
laws had been impeded, sometimes by bickerings between
the Whigs and the Tories, and sometimes by bickerings
between the Lords and the Commons.
The Revolution had scarcely been accomplished
when it appeared that the supporters of the Exclusion
Bin had not forgotten what ^ey had suffered during
the ascendency of their enemies, and were bent on
obtaining both reparation and revenge. Even before
the throne was filled, the Lords appointed a committee
to examine into the truth of the frightful stories which
had been circulated concerning the death of Essex.
The committee, which consisted of zealous Whigs, con-
tinued its inquiries till all reasonable men were con-
yinced that he had fallen by his own hand, and till his
wife, his brother, and his most intimate friends were
desirous that the investigation should be carried no
further.* Atonement was made, without any opposition
* See the Lords* Journals of the London Gazettes of July 91. and
Feb. 5. l68|y and of many subse- August 4. and 7. I69O, in which
quent days; Braddon's pamphlet, Lady Essex and Burnet publicly
entitled the Earl of Essex's Memory contradicted Braddon.
and Honour Vindicated^ l6'gO ; and
382
HISTORY OF ENGLAND
CHAP.
XIV.
1689.
Other at-
tainders
reversed.
Case of
Samuel
Johnson*
forced to sit down, after declaring that he meant only
to clear himself from the charge of having exceeded
the limits of his professional duty; that he disclaimed
all intention of attacking the memory of Lord RusseU ;
and that he should sincerely rejoice at the reversing
of the attainder. Before the House rose the bill was
read a second time, and would have been instantly
read a third time and passed, had not some additions
and omissions been proposed, which would, it was
thought, make the reparation more complete. The
amendments were prepared with great expedition: the
Lords agreed to them ; and the King gladly gave his
assent.*
This biU was soon followed by three other bills which
annulled three wicked and iirfamous judgments, the
judgment against Sidney, the judgment against Cor-
nish, and the judgment against Alice Lisle.f
Some living Whigs obtained without difficulty redress
for injuries which they had suffered in the late reign.
The sentence of Samuel Johnson was taken into consi-
deration by the House of Conunons. It was resolved
that the scourging which he had undergone was cruel,
and that his degradation was of no legal effect. The
latter proposition admitted of no dispute : for he had
been degraded by the prelates who had been appointed
to govern the diocese of London during Compton's
suspension. Compton had been suspended by a decree
of the High Conmiission; and the decrees of the High
Commission were universally acknowledged to be nulh-
ties. Johnson had therefore been stripped of his robe by
persons who had no jurisdiction over him. The Conunons
requested the King to compensate the sufferer by some
ecclesiastical preferment. J William, however, found that
♦ Grey's Debates, March l68|. in the Statute Book; bat the Acts
I The Acts which reversed the at- will be found in Howell's Collection
tainders of Russell, Sidney^ Cornish, of State Trials.
and Alice Lisle were private Acta. t Cominons* Joumalsy Jane 24v
Only the titles thereforr are printed I689.
WILLIAM AND MAB7. 383
he could not, without great inconvenience, grant this chap
request. For Johnson, though brave, honest and reli- ^^^'
gious, had always been rash, mutinous and quarrel- 1689.
some; and, since he had endured for his opinions a mar-
tjrrdom more terrible than death, the infirmities of his
temper and understanding had increased to such a
degree that he was as disagreeable to Low Churchmen
as to High Churchmen. Like too many other men,
who are not to be turned firom the path of right by
pleasure, by lucre or by danger, he mistook the im-
pulses of his pride and resentment for the monitions of
conscience, and deceived himself into a belief that, in
treating ficiends and foes with indiscriminate insolence
and asperity, he was merely showing his Christian faith-
fulness and courage. Burnet, by exhorting him to pa-
tience and forgiveness of injuries, made him a mortal
enemy. " Tell His Lordship," said the inflexible priest,
"to mind his own business, and to let me look after
mine."* It soon began to be whispered that Johnson
was mad. He accused Burnet of being the author of the
report, and avenged himself by writing libels so violent
that they strongly confirmed the imputation which they
were meant to refute. The King, therefore, thought it
better to give out of his own revenue a liberal compen-
sation for the wrongs which the Commons had brought
to his notice than to place an eccentric and irritable
man in a situation of dignity and public trust. John-
son was gratified with a present of a thousand pounds,
and a pension of three hundred a year for two lives.
His son was also provided for in the public service.f
While the Commons were considering the case of Case of
Johnson, the Lords were scrutinising with severity ^^'
the proceedings which had, in the late reign, been
* Johnaoa tellfl this story himself f Some Memorials of the Re-
in his strange pamphlet entitled, Terend Samuel Johnson^ prefixed to
Notes upon the Phoenix Edition of the folio edition of his works, 1710
the Pastoral Letter, 1694.
384
HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP.
XIV.
1689.
Case of
Gates.
instituted against one of their own order, the Earl of
Devonshire. The judges who had passed sentence on
him were strictly inteirrogated ; and a resolution was
passed declaring that in his case the privileges of the
peerage had been infringed, and that the Court of
King's Bench, in punishing a hasty blow by a fine of
thirty thousand pounds, had violated common justice
and the Great Charter.*
In the cases which have been mentioned, all parties
seem to have agreed in thinking that some public
reparation was due. But the fiercest passions both of
Whigs and Tories were soon roused by the noisy claims
of a wretch whose sufferings, great as they might seem,
had been trifling when compared with his crimes.
Gates had come back, like a ghost from the place of
punishment, to haunt the spots which had been polluted
by his guilt. The three years and a half which fol-
lowed his scourging he had passed in one of the cells
of Newgate, except when on certain days, the anni-
versaries of his peijuries, he had been brought forth and
set on the pillory. He was still, however, regarded by
many fanatics as a martyr; and it was said that they
were able so far to corrupt his keepers that, in spite of
positive orders from the government, his sufferings
were mitigated by many indulgences. While offenders,
who, compared with him, were innocent, grew lean on
the prison allowance, his cheer was mended by turkeys
and chines, capons and sucking pigs, venison pasties
and hampers of claret, the offerings of zealous Pro-
testants.f When James had fled from Whitehall, and
when London was in confiision, it was moved, in the
council of Lords which had provisionally assumed the
direction of affairs, that Gates should be set at liberty.
The motion was rejected J: but the gaolers, not know-
• Lords' Journals, May 15. I689.
f North's Examen, 224. North's
evidence is confirmed by several con-
temporary squibs in prose and verse.
See also the ccjcoik /SporoXo/yov^
mi.
X Halifax MS. in the British
Museum.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 385
ing whom to obey in that time of anarchy, and desiring . chap.
to conciliate a man who had once been, and might ^^^'
perhaps again be, a terrible enemy, allowed their pri- 1689.
soner to go freely about the town.* His uneven legs
and his hideous face, made more hideous by the
shearing which his ears had undergone, were now
again seen every day in Westminster Hall and the
Court of Requests.f He fastened himself on his old
patrons, and, in that drawl which he affected as a mark
of gentility, gave them the history of his wrongs and
of his hopes. It was impossible, he said, that now,
when the good cause was triumphant, the discoverer of
the plot could be overlooked. " Charles gave me nine
hundred pounds a year. Sure William will give me
more."J
In a few weeks he brought his sentence before the
House of Lords by a writ of error. This is a species of
appeal which raises no question of fact. The Lords,
wWle sitting judicially on the writ of error, were not
competent to examine whether the verdict which pro-
nounced Oates guilty was or was not according to the
evidence. All that they had to consider was whether,
the verdict being supposed to be according to the evi-
dence, the judgment was legal. But it would have
been difficult even for a tribunal composed of veteran
magbtrates, and was almost impossible for an assembly
of noblemen who were all strongly biassed on one side or
on the other, and among whom there was at that time
• Epiitle Dedicatory to Oates's **WitiioM, ye HUls, ye Johnsona, Scota,
«S.^«/ a»^,\.^l, Shebbeares;
€iKUfy JiaaiXucfi. ^^^ ^^ ^^ . ^r some of you have
f In a baUad of the time are the ears."
foUowii^ lines: j North's Examen, 224. 254.
••Com* liiteii, yt Whig^ to my pitifid North says " six hundred a year."
AB^that have 6a«, when the Doctor ?«* ^ *»»? **>^^n *^« }^^fi^^ «""]
luBnoDe." from the impudent petition which
These lines must have been in Oates addressed to the Commons,
Maion*a head when he wrote the ^^^7 25. I689. See the Jour-
coupkt — nals.
VOL. in. c c
386 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, not a single person whose mind had been disciplined by
L the study of jurisprudence, to look steadily at the mere
1689. point of law, abstracted from the special circumstances
of the case. In the view of one party, a party which
even among the Whig peers was probably a minority,
the appellant was a man who had rendered inestimable
services to the cause of liberty and religion, and who
had been requited by long confinement, by degrading
exposure, and by torture not to be thought of without
a shudder. The majority of the House more justly re-
garded him as the falsest, the most malignant and the
most impudent being that had ever disgraced the human
form. The sight of that brazen forehead, the accents of
that lying tongue, deprived them of aU mastery over them-
selves. Many of them doubtless remembered with shame
and remorse that they had been his dupes, and that, on
the very last occasion on which he had stood before them,
he had by perjury induced them to shed the blood of
one of their own illustrious order. It was not to be
expected that a crowd of gentlemen under the influence
of feelings like these would act with the cold impartiality
of a court of justice. Before they came to any decision
on the legal question which Titus had brought before
them, they picked a succession of quarrels with him.
He had published a paper magnifying his merits and
his sufferings. The Lords found out some pretence for
calling this publication a breach of privilege, and sent
him to the Marshalsea. He petitioned to be released;
but an objection was raised to his petition. He had
described himself as a Doctor of Divinity ; and their
lordships refused to acknowledge him as such. He was
brought to their bar, and asked where he had graduated.
He answered, " At the university of Salamanca." This
was no new instance of his mendacity and effrontery.
His Salamanca degree had bieen, during many years,
a favourite theme of all the Tory satirists from Dry-
den downwards; and even on the Continent the Sala-
I
WILLIAM AND MART. 887
manca Doctor was a nickname in ordinary use.* The chap
Lords, in their hatred of Gates, so far forgot their own L
dignity as to treat this ridiculous matter seriously. I689.
They ordered him to efface from his petition the words,
" Doctor of Divinity." He replied that he could not in
conscience do it; and he was accordingly sent back to
gaoLf
These preliminary proceedings indicated not ob-
scurely what the fate of the writ of error would be.
The counsel for Gates had been heard. No counsel
appeared against him. The Judges were required to
give their opinions. Nine of them were in attendance ;
and among the nine were the Chiefs of the three Courts
of Common Law. The unanimous answer of these
grave, learned and upright magistrates was that the
Court of King^s Bench was not competent to degrade a
priest from his sacred office, or to pass a sentence of
perpetual imprisonment; and that therefore the judg-
ment against Gates was contrary to law, aad ought to
be reversed. The Lords should undoubtedly have con-
sidered themselves as bound by this opinion. That
they knew Gates to be the worst of men was nothing to
the purpose. To them, sitting as a court of justice,
he ought to have been merely a John of Styles or a
John of Nokes. But their indignation was violently
excited. Their habits were not those which fit men
for the discharge of judicial duties. The debate turned
almost entirely on matters to which no allusion ought
to have been made. Not a single peer ventured to
affirm that the judgment was legal : but much was
said about the odious character of the appellant, about
the impudent accusation which he had brought against
Catharine of Braganza, and about the evil consequences
which might follow if so bad a man were capable of
* Van Citten, in his despatches f Lords' Journals, May SO.
to the States General^ uses this I689.
nickname quite gravely.
c c 2
388 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, being a witness. " There is only one way," oaid the
^^^' Lord President, " in which I can consent to reverse the
1689. fellow's sentence. He has been whipped fix)m Aldgate
to Tyburn. He ought to be whipped from Tyburn
back to Aldgate." The question was put. Twenty
three peers voted for reversing the judgment; thirty
five for affirming it.*
This decision produced a great sensation, and not
without reason. A question was now raised which
might justly excite the anxiety of every man in the
kingdom. That question was whether the highest
tribunal, the tribunal on which, in the last resort,
depended the most precious interests of every English
subject, was at liberty to decide judicial questions on
other than judicial grounds, and to withhold from a
suitor what was admitted to be his legal right, on
account of the depravity of his moral character. That
the supreme Court of Appeal ought not to be suffered
to exercise arbitrary power, under the forms of ordi-
nary justice, was strongly felt by the ablest men in the
House of Commons, and by none more strongly than by
Somers. With him, and with those who reasoned like
him, were, on this occasion, allied many weak and hot-
headed zealots who still regarded Gates as a public
benefactor, and who imagined that to question the
existence of the Popish plot was to question the truth
of the Protestant religion. On the very morning after
the decision of the Peers had been pronounced, keen
reflections were thrown, in the House of Conmions,
on the justice of their lordships. Three days later, the
subject was brought forward by a Whig Privy Coimcillor,
Sir Robert Howard, member for Castle Rising. He
was one of the Berkshire branch of his noble family, a
branch which enjoyed, in that age, the unenviable dis-
tinction of being wonderfully fertile of bad rhymers.
* Lords' Journals^ May 31. 1689; £xan)en, 2^4; Nardssus LuttreD's
Commons' Journals^ Aug. 2. ; North's Diary.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 389
The poetry of the Berkshire Howards was the jest of chap.
three generations of satirists. The mirth began with
the first representation of the Rehearsal, and continued ^^^9
down to the last edition of the Dunciad.* But Sir
Robert, in spite of his bad verses, and of some foibles
and vanities which had caused him to be brought on
the stage under the name of Sir Positive Atall, had in
parliament the weight which a stanch party man, of
ample fortune, of illustrious name, of ready utterance,
and of resolute spirit, can scarcely fail to possess.f
When he rose to call the attention of the Commons to
the case of Gates, some Tories, animated by the same
passions which had prevailed in the other House, re-
ceived him with loud hisses. In spite of this most
unparliamentary insult, he persevered; and it soon
appeared that the majority was with him. Some orators
extolled the patriotism and courage of Gates : others
dwelt much on a prevailing rumour, that the solicitors
who were employ^ against him on behalf of the Crown
had distributed large sums of money among the jury-
men. These were topics on which there was much
difference of opinion. But that the sentence was illegal
was a proposition which admitted of no dispute. The
most eminent lawyers in the House of Commons de-
clared that, on this point, they entirely concurred in
the opinion given by the Judges in the House of Lords.
Those who had hissed when the subject was introduced,
were so effectually cowed that they did not venture to
demand a division ; and a bill annulling the sentence
was brought in, without any opposition. J
* Sir Robert was the original ward Howard, the author of the
hero of the Rehearsal, and was called British Princes.
Bilboa. In the remodelled Dunciad, f Key to the Rehearsal ; Shad-
Pope inserted the lines — well's Sullen Lovers ; Pepys, May
"And highborn Howard, more majestic 5. 8. l66S ; Evelyn, Feb. l6.
•ire, 168$.
^q*2irJ*^ "^ ^°*"^^ completes the j'orey's Debates and Commons'
n • u- i.t^ f I 1 1.^ J Journals, June 4. and 1 1. I689.
Popes highborn Howard was Ed-
00 3
390 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. The Lords were in an embarrassing situation. To
^^^' retract was not pleasant. To engage in a contest with
1689. the Lower House, on a question on which that House
was clearly in the right, and was backed at once by
the opinions of the sages of the law, and by the passions
of the populace, might be dangerous. It was thought
expedient to take a middle course. An address was
presented to the King, requesting him to pardon
Gates.* But this concession only made bad worse.
Titus had, like every other human being, a right to
justice : but he was not a proper object of mercy. K
the judgment against him was illegal, it ought to have
been reversed. If it was legal, there was no ground
for remitting any part of it. The Commons, very
properly, persisted, passed their bill, and sent it up to
the Peers. Of this bill the only objectionable part was
the preamble, which asserted, not only that the judg-
ment was illegal, a proposition which appeared on the
face of the record to be true, but also that the verdict
was corrupt, a proposition which, whether true or false,
was not proved by any evidence at all.
The Lords were in a great strait. They knew that
they were in the wrong. Yet they were determined
not to proclaim, in their legislative capacity, that they
had, in their judicial capacity, been guilty of injustice.
They again tried a middle course. The preamble was
softened down : a clause was added which provided that
Gates should still remain incapable of being a witness ;
and the bill thus altered was returned to the Commons.
The Commons were not satisfied. They rejected the
amendments, and demanded a free conference. Two
eminent Tories, Rochester and Nottingham, took their
seats in the Painted Chamber as managers for the Lords.
With them was joined Burnet, whose well known hatred
of Popery was likely to give weight to what he might
say on such an occasion. Somers was the chief orator
* Lords' Journals, June 6. l689«
WILLIAM AND MARY. 391
on the other side ; and to his pen we owe a singularly chap.
lucid and interesting abstract of the debate. ^^^'
The Lords frankly owned that the judgment of the 1C89.
Court of King^s Bench could not be defended. They
knew it to be illegal, and had known it to be so even
when they affirmed it. But they had acted for the
best. They accused Gates of bringing an impudently
false accusation against Queen Catherine : they men-
tioned other instances of his villany ; and they asked
whether such a man ought still to be capable of giv-
ing testiiiiony in a court of justice. The only excuse
which, in their opinion, could be made for him was,
that he was insane ; and in truth, the incredible inso-
lence and absurdity of his behaviour when he was last
before them seemed to warrant the belief that his brain
had been turned, and that he was not to be trusted
with the lives of other men. The Lords could not
therefore degrade themselves by expressly rescinding
what they had done ; nor could they consent to pro-
nounce the verdict corrupt on no better evidence than
common report.
The reply was complete and triumphant. " Gates is
now the smallest part of the question. He has. Your
Lordships say, falsely accused the Queen Dowager
and other innocent persons. Be it so. This bill gives
him no indemnity. We are quite willing that, if he is
guilly, he shall be punished. But for him, and for all
Englishmen, we demand that punishment shall be regu-
lated by law, and not by the arbitrary discretion of any
tribunal. We demand that, when a writ of error is
before Your Lordships, you shall give judgment on it
according to the known customs and statutes of the
realm. We deny that you have any right, on such
occasions, to take into consideration the moral cha-
racter of a plaintiff or the political effect of a decision.
It is acknowledged by yourselves that you have, merely
))ecau8e you thought ill of this man, affirmed a judg-
« 0 4
392 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, ment which you knew to be illegal. Against this as-
XIV • • o o
L sumption of arbitrary power the Commons protest ;
1689. and they hope that you will now redeem what you
must feel to be an error. Your Lordships intimate a
suspicion that Gates is mad. That a man is mad may
be a very good reason for not punishing him at all.
But how it can be a reason for inflicting on him a
punishment which would be illegal even if he were
sane, the Commons do not comprehend. Your Lord-
ships think that you should not be justified in calling
a verdict corrupt which has not been legally proved to
be so. Suflfer us to remind you that you have two
distinct functions to perform. You are judges; and
you are legislators. When you judge, your duty is
strictly to foUow the law. When you legislate, you
may properly take facts fix)m common fame. You
. invert this rule. You are lax in the wrong place, and
scrupulous in the wrong place. As judges, you break
through the law for the sake of a supposed convenience.
As legislators, you will not admit any fact without
such technical proof as it is rarely possible for legis-
lators to obtain."*
This reasoning was not and could not be answered.
The Commons were evidently flushed with their victory
in the argument, and proud of the appearance which
Somers had made in the Painted Chamber. They par-
ticularly charged him to see that the report which
he had made of the conference was accurately entered
in the Journals. The Lords very wisely abstained
from inserting in their records an account of a debate
in which they had been so signally discomfited. But,
though conscious of their fault and ashamed of it, they
could not be brought to do public penance by owning,
in the preamble of the Act, that they had been guilty of
injustice. The minority was, however, strong. The
* Commons' Journals, Aug. 2. 1689; Dutch Ambassadors Extraor-
dinary to the States General, ^^
WILLIAM AND MARY. 393
resolution to adhere was carried by only twelve votes, chap.
of which ten were proxies. * Twenty one Peers pro- -^^^'
tested. The biU dropped. Two Masters in Chancery 1^89.
were sent to announce to the Commons the final re-
solution of the Peers. The Commons thought this
proceeding unjustifiable in substance and uncourteous
in form. They determined to remonstrate ; and Somers
drew up an excellent manifesto, in which the vile name
of Gates was scarcely mentioned, and in which the
Upper House was with great earnestness and gravity
e^diorted to treat judicial questions judicially, and not,
under pretence of administering law, to make law.f
The wretched man, who had now a second time thrown
the political world into confusion, received a pardon, and
was set at liberty. His friends in the Lower House
moved an address to the Throne, requesting that a pen-
sion sufficient for his support might be granted to him. J
He was consequently allowed about three hundred a
year, a sum which he thought unworthy of his ac-
ceptance, and which he took with the savage snarl of
disappointed greediness.
From the dS^pute about Gates sprang another dispute. Bin of
which might have produced very serious consequences. ^^^^^^
The instrument wldch had declared William and Mary
King and Queen was a revolutionary instrument. It
had been drawn up by an assembly unknown to the
ordinary law, and had never received the royal sanction.
It was evidently desirable that this great contract be-
tween the governors and the governed, this titledeed
by which the King held his throne and the people their
liberties, should be put into a strictly regular form.
The Declaration of Rights was therefore turned into a
Bill of Rights ; and the Bill of Rights speedily passed
the Commons ; but in the Lords difficulties arose.
♦ Lords' Journals, July 30. iGsp; f See the Commons* Journals of
Narcissus Lnttrell's Diary ; Claren- July 31. and August 13. I689.
don's Diary^ July 81. 1689* t Commons* Journals, Aug. 20.
894 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. The Declaration had settled the crown, first on
L William and Mary jointly, then on the survivor of
3689. the two, then on Mary's posterity, then on Anne and
her posterity, and, lastly, on the posterity of William
by any other wife than Mary. The Bill had been
drawn in exact conformity with the Declaration. Who
was to succeed if Mary, Anne, and William should all
die without posterity, was left in uncertainty. Yet the
event for which no provision was made was far fi*om
improbable. Indeed it really came to pass. William
had never had a child. Anne had repeatedly been a
mother, but had no child living. It would not be very
strange if, in a few months, disease, war, or treason
should remove all those who stood in the entail. In
what state would the country then be left ? To whom
would allegiance be due ? The bill indeed contained a
clause which excluded Papists from the throne. But
would such a clause supply the place of a clause desig-
nating the successor by name ? What if the next heir
should be a prince of the House of Savoy not three
months old ? It would be absurd to call such an
infant a Papist. Was he then to be proclaimed King ?
Or was the crown to be in abeyance till he came
to an age at which he might be capable of choosing
a religion ? Might not the most honest and the most
intelligent men be in doubt whether they ought to
regard him as their Sovereign ? And to whom could
they look for a solution of this doubt ? Parliament
there would be none : for the Parliament would expire
with the prince who had convoked it. There would
be mere anarchy, anarchy which might end in the
destruction of the monarchy, or in the destruction of
public liberty. For these weighty reasons, Burnet, at
William's suggestion, proposed in the House of Lords
that the crown should, failing heirs of His Majesty's
body, be entailed oh an undoubted Protestant, Sophia,
Puchess of Brunswick Lunenburg, granddaughter of
WILLIAM AND MABY. 895
James the First, and daughter of Elizabeth, Queen of chap.
Bohemia. .^
The Lords unanimously assented to this amendment : 1689.
but the Commons unanimously rejected it. The cause of
the rejection no contemporary writer has satisfactorily
explained. One Whig historian talks of the machina-
tions of the republicans, another of the machinations of
the Jacobites. But it is quite certain that four fifths of
the representatives of the people were neither Jacobites
nor republicans. Yet not a single voice was raised
in the Lower House in favour of the clause which in
the Upper House had been carried by acclamation.*
The most probable explanation seems to be that the
gross injustice which had been committed in the case
of Oates had irritated the Commons to such a degree
that they were glad of an opportunity to quarrel with
the Peers. A conference was held. Neither assembly
would give way. While the dispute was hottest, an
event took place which, it might have been thought,
would have restored harmony. Anne gave birth to
a son. The child was baptized at Hampton Court
with great pomp, and with many signs of public joy.
William was one of the sponsors. The other was the
accomplished Dorset, whose roof had given shelter to
the Princess in her distress. The King bestowed his
x>wn name on his godson, and announced to the splendid
circle assembled roimd the font that the little William
was henceforth to be called Duke of Gloucester.f The
birth of this child had greatly diminished the risk
against which the Lords had thought it necessary to
* Oldmixon accoiea the Jacobites, But we learn from the Journals
Burnet the republicans. Though (June I9. I689) that it was re-
Bnmet took a prominent part in the jected nemine contradicente. The
discnsslon of this question, his account Dutch Ambassadors describe it as
of what passed is grossly inaccurate. " een propositie 'twelck geen ingressie
He says that the clause was warmly schynt te sullen vinden."
debated In the Commons, and that t London Gazette, Aug. 1. 1689 ;
Hampden spoke strongly for it. Narcissus Luttrell's Diary.
396 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, guard. They might therefore have retracted with a
L good grace. But their pride had been wounded by the
1689. severity with which their decision on Oates's writ of
error had been censured in the Painted Chamber.
They had been plainly told across the table that they
were unjust judges; and the imputation was not the
less irritating because they were conscious that it was
deserved. They refused to make any concession ; and
the Bill of Rights was suffered to drop.*
Di8pQte« But the most exciting question of this long and
STo nn- s*^"^y session was, what punishment should be inflicted
denmity. OH thosc men who had, during the interval between the
dissolution of the Oxford Parliament and the Revo-
lution, been the advisers or the tools of Charles and
James. It was happy for England that, at this crisis,
a prince who belonged to neither of her factions, who
loved neither, who hated neither, and who, for the ac-
complishment of a great design, wished to make use of
both, was the moderator between them.
The two parties were now in a position closely
resembling that in which they had been twenty eight
years before. The party indeed which had then be^n
undermost was now uppermost: but the analogy be-
tween the situations is one of the most perfect that
can be found in history. Both the Restoration and
the Revolution were accomplished by coalitions. At
the Restoration,* those politicians who were peculiarly
jealous for liberty assisted to reestablioh monarchy :
at the Revolution those politicians who were pecu-
liarly zealous for monarchy assisted to vindicate liberty.
The Cavalier would, at the former conjuncture, have
been able to effect nothing without the help of Pu-
ritans who had fought for the Covenant ; nor would
the Whig, at the latter conjuncture, have offered a suc-
cessful resistance to arbitrary power, had he not been
•The Listory of this Bill may be traced in the Journals of the
two Houses^ and in Grey's Debates.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 397
backed by men who had a very short time before con- chap.
demned resistance to arbitrary power as a deadly sin. ^^^'
Conspicuous among those by whom, in 1660, the royal iCsg.
fiamily was brought back, were Hollis, who had in the
days of the tyranny of Charles the First held down the
Speaker in the chair by main force, while Black Kod
knocked for admission in vain; Ingoldsby, whose name
was subscribed to the memorable death warrant; and
Prynne, whose ears Laud had cut oflP, and who, in
return, had borne the chief part in cutting off Laud's
head. Among the seven who, in 1688, signed the
invitation to William, were Compton, who had long
enforced the duty of obeying Nero; Danby, who had
been impeached for endeavouring to establish military
despotism; and Lumley, whose bloodhoimds had tracked
Monmouth to that sad last hiding place among the fern.
Both in 1660 and in 1688, while the fate of the nation
still hung in the balance, forgiveness was exchanged
between the hostile factions. On both occasions the
reconciliation, which had seemed to be cordial in the
hour of danger, proved false and hollow in the hour of
triumph. As soon as Charles the Second was at White-
hall, the Cavalier forgot the good service recently done
by the Presbyterians, and remembered only their old
offences. As soon as William was King, too many of
the Whigs began to demand vengeance for all that they
had, in the days of the Rye House Plot, suffered at the
hands of the Jories. On both occasions the Sovereign
found it difficult to save the vanquished party from
the fury of his triumphant supporters ; and on both
occasions those whom he had disappointed of their re-
venge murmured bitterly against the government which
had been so weak and ungrateful as to protect its foes
against its friends.
So early as the twenty fifth of March, William called
the attention of the Commons to the expediency of
quieting the public mind by an amnesty. He expressed
898 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, his hope that a bill of general pardon and oblivion
L would be as speedily as possible presented for his
i6*«9. sanction, and that no exceptions would be made, except
such as were absolutely necessary for the vindication
of public justice and for the safety of the state. The
Gonunons unanimously agreed to thank him for this
instance of his paternal kindness: but they suffered
many weeks to pass without taking any step towards
the accomplishment of his wish. When at length the
subject was resumed, it was resumed in such a manner
as plainly showed that the majority had no real intention
of putting an end to the suspense which embittered the
lives of all those Tories who were conscious that, in
their zeal for prerogative, they had sometimes over-
stepped the exact line traced by law. Twelve catego-
ries were framed, some of which were so extensive as
to include tens of thousands of delinquents; and the
House resolved that, under every one of these catego-
ries, some exceptions should be made. Then came the
examination into the cases of individuals. Numerous
culprits and witnesses were summoned to the bar. The
debates were long and sharp ; and it soon became evi-
dent that the work was interminable. The summer
glided away: the autumn was approaching: the session
could not last much longer; and of the twelve distinct
inquisitions, which the Commons had resolved to insti-
tute, only three had been brought to a close. It was
necessary to let the bill drop for that year.*
Last days Among the many offenders whose names were men-
of Jeffreyg. ^ioned in the course of these inquiries, was one who
stood alone and imapproached in guilt and infamy,
and whom Whigs and Tories were equally willing to
leave to the extreme rigour of the law. On that ter-
rible day which was succeeded by the Irish Night, the
* See Grey's Debates^ and the be found in the Journals of the 23d
Commons' Journals from March to and 29th of May and of the 8th of
July. The twelve categories will June.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 899
roar of a great city disappointed of its revenge had chap.
followed JeflFreys to the drawbridge of the Tower. His ^^^'
imprisonment was not strictly legal: but he at first ^^^S-
accepted with thanks and blessings the protection which
those dark walls, made famous by so many crimes and
sorrows, afforded him against the fury of the multi-
tude.* Soon, however, he became sensible that his
life was still in imminent peril. For a time he flat-
tered himself with the hope that a writ of Habeas
Corpus would liberate him from his confinement, and
that he should be able to steal away to some foreign
country, and to hide himself with part of his ill gotten
wealth from the detestation of mankind : but, tiU the
government was settled, there was no Court competent
to grant a writ of Habeas Corpus ; and, as soon as the
government had been settled, the Habeas Corpus Act
was suspended.f Whether the legal guilt of murder
could be brought home to Jeffreys may be doubted.
But he was morally guilty of so many murders that, if
there had been no other way of reaching his life, a retro-
spective Act of Attainder would have been clamorously
demanded by the whole nation. A disposition to triumph
over the fallen has never been one of the besetting sins
of Englishmen : but the hatred of which Jeffreys was the
object was without a parallel in our history, and par-
took but too largely of the savageness of his own nature.
The people, where he was concerned, were as cruel as
himself, and exulted in his misery as he had been accus-
tomed to exult in the misery of convicts listening to the
sentence of death, and of families clad in mourning.
The rabble congregated before his deserted mansion in
Duke Street, and read on the door, with shouts of
laughter, the bills which announced the sale of his
property. Even delicate women, who had tears for
* Halifax MS. in the Britiah Mu« Lord Jeffreys ; Finch's speech in
aeum. Grey's Debates^ March I. ]68|.
t The Life and Death of George
400 lUSTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, highwaymen and housebreakers, breathed nothing but
L vengeance against him. The lampoons on him which
1689. were hawked about the town were distinguished by an
atrocity rare even in those days. Hanging would be
too mild a death for him : a grave under the gibbet too
respectable a resting place : he ought to be whipped to
death at the cart's tail : he ought to be tortured like an
Indian: he ought to be devoured alive. The street
poets portioned out all his joints with cannibal ferocity,
and computed how many pounds of steaks might be cut
from his well fattened carcass. Nay, the rage of his
enemies was such that, in language seldom heard in
England, they proclaimed their wish that he might go
to the place of wailing and gnashing of teeth, to the
worm that never dies, to the fire that is never quenched.
They exhorted him to hang himself in his garters, and
to cut his throat with his razor. They put up horrible
prayers that he might not be able to repent, that he
might die the same hardhearted, wicked Jefeeys that
he had lived.* His spirit, as mean in adversity as inso-
lent and inhuman in prosperity, sank down under the
load of public abhorrence. His constitution, originally
bad, and much impaired by intemperance, was com-
pletely broken by distress and anxiety. He was tor-
mented by a cruel internal disease, which the most
skilful surgeons of that age were seldom able to relieve.
One solace was left to him, brandy. Even when he
had causes to try and councils to attend, he had seldom
gone to bed sober. Now, when he had nothing to oc-
cupy his mind save terrible recollections and terrible
* See, among many other pieces, fession made in the time of his
JefTreys's Elegy, the Letter to the sickness in the Tower; Hickerin-
Lord Chancellor exposing to him gill's Ceremonymonger ; a broad-
the sentiments of the people, the side entitled *' O rare show ! O
£legy on Dangerfield, Dangerfield*s rare sight ! O strange monster !
Ghost to Jeffreys, the Humble Pe- The like not in Europe ! To be
tition of Widows and fatherless seen near Tower Hill, a few doors
Children in the West, the Lord beyond the Lion's den."
Chancellor's Discovery and Con.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 401
forebodings, he abandoned himself without reserve to chap.
his favourite vice. Many believed him to be bent on ^^^'
shortening his life by excess. He thought it better, i^«9-
they said, to go off in a drunken fit than to be hacked
by Ketch, or torn limb from limb by the populace.
Once he was roused from a state of abject despondency
by an agreeable sensation, speedily followed by a mor-
tifying disappointment. A parcel had been left for
him at the Tower. It appeared to be a barrel of Col-
chester oysters, his favourite dainties. He was greatly
moved: for there are moments when those who least
deserve affection are pleased to think that they inspire
it. "Thank God," he exclaimed, "I have still some
friends left." He opened the barrel ; and from among
a heap of shells out tumbled a stout halter.*
It does not appear that one of the flatterers or
buffoons whom he had enriched out of the plunder of
his victims came to comfort him in the day of trouble.
But he was not left in utter solitude. John Tutchin,
whom he had sentenced to be flogged every fortnight
for seven years, made his way into the Tower, and
presented himself before the fallen oppressor. Poor
Jeffreys, humbled to the dust, behaved with abject
civility, and called for wine. " I am glad, sir," he said,
"to see you." "And I am glad," answered the re-
sentftil Whig, "to see Your Lordship in this place."
" I served my master," said Jeffreys : " I was bound in
conscience to do so." " Where was your conscience,"
said Tutchin, " when you passed that sentence on me
at Dorchester ?" " It was set down in my instructions,"
ans¥rered Jeffreys, fawningly, " that I was to show no
mercy to men like you, men of parts and courage.
When I went back to court I was reprimanded for my
lenity." f Even Tutchin, acrimonious as was his nature,
and great as were his wrongs, seems to have been a
* Life and Demth of George Lord t Tutchin himself gives this
Jeffreys. narrative in the Bloody Assizes,
VOL. m P D
402 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, little mollified by the pitiable spectacle which he had
L at first contemplated with vindictive pleasure. He
1689. always denied the truth of the report that he was the
person who sent the Colchester barrel to the Tower.
A more benevolent man, John Sharp, the excellent
Dean of Norwich, forced himself to visit the prisoner.
It was a painfiil task : but Sharp had been treated by
Jefireys, in old times, as kindly as it was in the nature
of Jeffreys to treat any body, and had once or twice
been able, by patiently waiting till the storm of curses
and invectives had spent itself, and by dexterously
seizing the moment of good humour, to obtain for
unhappy families some mitigation of their sufferings.
The prisoner was surprised and pleased. " What," he
said, " dare you own me now ? " It was in vain, how-
ever, that the amiable divine tried to give salutary pain
to that seared conscience. Jeffreys, instead of acknow-
ledging his guilt, exclaimed vehemently against the
injustice of mankind. " People call me a murderer for
doing what at the time was applauded by some who
are now high in public favour. They call me a drunkard
because I take punch to relieve me in my agony." He
would not admit that, as President of the High Com-
mission, he had done any thing that deserved reproach.
His colleagues, he said, were the real criminals ; and
now they threw all the blame on him. He spoke with
peculiar asperity of Sprat, who had undoubtedly been
the most humane and moderate member of the board.
It soon became clear that the wicked judge was
fast sinking under the weight of bodUy and mental
suffering. Doctor John Scott, prebendary of Saint
Paul's, a clergjnnan of great sanctity, and author of
the Christian Life, a treatise once widely renowned, was
summoned, probably on the recommendation of his in-
timate friend Sharp, to the bedside of the dying man.
It was in vain, however, that Scott spoke, as Sharp had
already sooken, of the hideous butcheries of Dorchester
WILLIAM AND MARY.
4t03
and Taunton. To the last Jeffreys continued to repeat
that those who thought him cruel did not know what
his orders were, that he deserved praise instead of
blame, and that his clemency had drawn on him the
extreme displeasure of his master.*
Disease, assisted by strong drink and by misery, did
its work fast. The patient's stomach rejected all
nourishment. He d^vindled in a few weeks from a
portly and even corpulent man to a skeleton. On the
eighteenth of April he died, in the forty first year of
his age. He had been Chief Justice of the King's
Bench at thirty five, and Lord Chancellor at thirty
seven. In the whole history of the English bar there
is no other instance of so rapid an elevation, or of so
terrible a fall. The emaciated corpse was laid, with
all privacy, next to the corpse of Monmouth in the
chapel of the Tower.f
The fall of this man, once so great and so much
CHAP.
XIV.
1689.
* See the Life of Archbishop
Sharp by his son. What passed
between Scott and Jeffreys was re-
lated by Scott to Sir Joseph Jekyl.
See Tindal*s History ; £chard^ iii.
9S2. Echard*8 informant, who is
not named^ bat who seems to have
had good opportunities of knowing
the tmth^ said that Jeffreys died,
not, as the Tulgar believed, of drink^
but of the stone. The distinction
seems to be of little importance. It
is certain that Jeffreys was grossly
intemperate; and his malady was
one which intemperance notoriously
tends to aggravate.
f See a Full and True Account of
the Death of George Lord Jeffreys,
licensed on the day of his death.
The wretched Le Noble was never
weary of repeating that Jeffreys
was poisoned by the usurper. I
will give a short passage as a spe-
cimen of the calumnies of which
William was the ebjecL '* II en-
voys," says Pasquin, '^cefin ragoDt
de champignons au Chancelier Jef-
freys, prisonnier dans la Tour, qui
les trouva du meme goust, et du
meme assaisonnement que furent
les demiera dont Agrippine regala
le bon-homme Claudius son epoux,
et que Neron appella depuis la
viande des Dieux." Marforio asks :
'* Le Chancelier est done mort dans
la Tour?" Pasquin answers: ''II
estoit trop ffdMe k son Roi legitime,
et trop habile dans les loix du roy-
aume, pour ^chapper a TUsurpateur
qu*il ne vouloit point reconnoistre.
Guillemot prit soin de faire publier
que ce malheureux prisonnier estoit
attaque d'une fievre maligne : mais,
k parler franchement, il vivroit peut-
estre encore, s'il n'avoit rien mange
que de la main de ses anciens cui-
siniers." — Le Festin de Guillemot,
1689. Dangeau (May 7.) mentions
a report that Jeffreys had poisoned
himself.
D 2
404 mSTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, dreaded, the horror with which he was regarded by
L all the respectable members of his own party, the
1689. mamier in which the least respectable members of that
The Whigs party renounced fellowship with him in his distress,
tuMhe*"^ and threw on him the whole blame of crimes which they
King. had encouraged him to commit, ought to have been a
lesson to those intemperate friends of liberty who were
clamouring for a new proscription. But it was a les-
son which too many of them disregarded. The King
had, at the very commencement of his reign, displeased
them by appointing a few Tories and Trimmers to high
offices; and the discontent excited by these appoint-
ments had been inflamed by his attempt to obtain a
general amnesty for the vanquished. He was in truth
not a man to be popular with the vindictive zealots of
any faction. For among his peculiarities was a certain
ungracious humanity which rarely conciliated his foes,
which often provoked his adherents, but in which he
doggedly persisted, without troubling himself either
about the thanklessness of those whom he had saved
from destruction, or about the rage of those whom he
had disappointed of their revenge. Some of the Whigs
now spoke of him as bitterly as they had ever spoken
of either of his uncles. He was a Stuart after all, and
was not a Stuart for nothing. Like the rest of the
race, he loved arbitrary power. In Holland, he had
succeeded in making himself, under the forms of a re-
publican polity, scarcely less absolute than the old he-
reditary Counts had been. In consequence of a strange
combination of circumstances, his interest had, during
a short time, coincided with the interest of the English
people : but though he had been a deliverer by acci-
dent, he was a despot by nature. He had no sympsr
thy with the just resentments of the Whigs. He had
objects in view which the Whigs would not willingly
suffer any Sovereign to attain. He knew that the
Tories were the only tools for his purpose. He had
WILLIAM AND MABY. 405
therefore, from the moment at which he took his seat chap.
on the throne, favoured them unduly. He was now try- ^^^'
ing to procure an indemnity for those very delinquents ^6S9.
whom he had, a few months before, described in his
Declaration as deserving of exemplary punishment.
In November he had told the world that the crimes in
which these men had borne a part had made it the
duty of subjects to violate their oath of allegiance, of
soldiers to desert their standards, of children to make
war on their parents. With what consistency then
could he recommend that such crimes should be covered
by a general oblivion ? And was there not too much
reason to fear that he wished to save the agents of
tyranny from the fate which they merited, in the hope
that, at some future time, they might serve him as
unscrupulously as they had served his father in law? ♦
Of the members of the House of Commons who were intem-
animated by these feelings, the fiercest and most auda- ho^^^ °'
clous was Howe. He went so far on one occasion as to
move that an inquiry should be instituted into the pro-
ceedings of the Parliament of 1685, and that some note
of infamy should be put on all who, in that Parliament,
had voted with the Court. This absurd and mis-
chievous motion was discoimtenanced by all the most
respectable Whigs, and strongly opposed by Birch and
Maynard.f Howe was forced to give way : but he was
a man whom no check could abash ; and he was en-
couraged by the applause of many hotheaded members
of his party, who were far from foreseeing that he would,
after having been the most rancorous and unprincipled
* Among the namenms pieces in 1^^ *U the flU by <mr whole nuse de-
which tbe maleoontent Whigs vented j^ th^their fuU accompliahment might
their anger, none u more canons find:
than the poem entitled the Ghost "I^ thou that art decreed this point to
of Chaita the Swond. Charles ad- whidT^i have laboured for theee four-
dresses WiUiam thns : More year."
'^•SdSi^*^"^*^'''*'^*^*^*^ t Grey's Debates, June 12.
To fiU the msssnre of the Stuart's reign, I689.
D D 3
406 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, of Whigs, become, at no distant time, the most ran
L corous and unprincipled of Tories.
1689. This quickwitted, restless and malignant politician,
cl^ar" th<>^gh himself occupying a lucrative place in the royal
then. household, declaimed, day after day, against the man-
ner in which the great offices of state were filled ; and
his declamations were echoed, in tones somewhat less
sharp and vehement, by other orators. No man, they
said, who had been a minister of Charies or of James
ought to be a minister of William. The first attack
was directed against the Lord President Caermarthen.
Howe moved that an address should be presented to
the King, requesting that all persons who had ever
been impeached by the Commons might be dismissed
from His Majesty's counsels and presence. The de-
bate on this motion was repeatedly adjourned. While
the event was doubtful, William sent Dykvelt to ex-
postulate with Howe. Howe was obdurate. He was
what is vulgarly called a disinterested man ; that is
to say, he valued money less than the pleasure of
venting his spleen and of making a sensation. " I am
doing the King a service," he said : " I am rescuing
him from false friends : and, as to my place, that shall
never be a gag to prevent me from speaking my mind."
The motion was made, but completely failed. In truth
the proposition, that mere accusation, never prosecuted
to conviction, ought to be considered as a decisive
proof of guilt, was shocking to natural justice. The
faults of Caermarthen had doubtless been great ; but
they had been exaggerated by party spirit, had been
expiated by severe sufiering, and had been redeemed
by recent and eminent services. At the time when he
raised the great county of York in arms against Po-
pery and tyranny, he had been assured by some of the
most eminent Whigs that all old quarrels were for-
gotten. Howe indeed maintained that the civilities
which had passed in the moment of peril signified no-
WILLIAM AND MARY. 407
thing. " When a viper is on my hand," he said, " I chap.
am very tender of him ; but, as soon as I have him on L
the ground, I set my foot on him and crush him." ^^^9.
The Lord President, however, was so strongly supported
that, after a discussion which lasted three days, his
enemies did not venture to take the sense of the House
on the motion against him. In the course of the
debate a grave constitutional question was incidentally
raised. This question was whether a pardon could be
pleaded in bar of a parliamentary impeachment. The
CJomjnons resolved, without a division, that a pardon
could not be so pleaded.*
The next attack was made on Halifax. He was in a Attack on
much more invidious position than Caermarthen, who ^*^*^'
had, under pretence of ill health, withdrawn himself
almost entirely from business. Halifax was generally
regarded as the chief adviser of the Crown, and was in
an especial manner held responsible for all the faults
which had been committed with respect to Ireland.
The evils which had brought that kingdom to ruin
might, it was said, have been averted by timely pre-
caution, or remedied by vigorous exertion. But the
government had foreseen nothing: it had done little;
and that little had been done neither at the right time
nor in the right way. Negotiation had been employed
instead of troops, when a few troops might have sufficed.
A few troops had been sent when many were needed.
The troops that had been sent had been ill equipped
and iU commanded. Such, the vehement Whigs ex-
claimed, were the natural fruits of that great error
which King William had committed on the first day
of his reign. He had placed in Tories and Trimmers a
confidence which they did not deserve. He had, in a
peculiar manner, entrusted the direction of Irish affairs
to the Trimmer of Trimmers, to a man whose abiUty
* See Commons* Journals^ and Grey's Detuites, June 1. 3. and 4. 1689 ;
Life of William, 1704.
p D 4
408 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. . nobody disputed, but who was not firmly attached to
L the new government, who, indeed, was incapable of
1689. being firmly attached to any government, who had
always halted between two opinions, and who, till the
moment of the flight of James, had not given up the
hope that the discontents of the nation might be qui-
eted without a change of dynasty. Howe, on twenty
occasions, designated Halifax as the cause of all the
calamities of the country. Monmouth held similar
language in the House of Lords. Though First Lord of
the Treasury, he paid no attention to financial business,
for which he was altogether unfit, and of which he had
very soon become weary. His whole heart was in the
work of persecuting the Tories. He plainly told the
King that nobody who was not a Whig ought to be
employed in the public service. William's answer was
cool and determined. " I have done as much for your
friends as I can do without danger to the state; and I
will do no more."* The only efiect of this reprimand
was to make Monmouth more factious than ever.
Against Halifax especially he intrigued and harangued
with indefatigable animosity. The other Whig Lords of
the Treasury, Delamere and Capel, were scarcely less
eager to drive the Lord Privy Seal from office ; and per-
sonal jealousy and antipathy impelled the Lord President
to conspire with his own accusers against his rival.
What foundation there may have been for the impu-
tations thrown at this time on Halifax cannot now be
fully ascertained. His enemies, though they interro-
gated numerous witnesses, and though they obtained
William's reluctant permission to inspect the minutes
of the Privy Council, could find no evidence which
would support a definite charge.f But it was un-
* Burnet MS. HarL 6584.; Council^ see the Commons' Journali
Avaux to De Croissy, June |$. of June 22. and 28.^ and of July 5.
I6S9. 5. 13. and I6.
t As to the minutes of the Privy
WILLIAM AND MABY. 409
deniable that the Lord Privy Seal had acted as mi- chap.
nister for Ireland, and that Ireland was all but lost. 1,
It is unnecessary, and indeed absurd, to suppose, as i^^^-
many Whigs supposed, that his administration was
unsuccessful because he did not wish it to be successful.
The truth seems to be that the difficulties of the situa-
tion were great, and that he, with all his ingenuity and
eloquence, was ill qualified to cope with those difficul-
ties. The whole machinery of government was out of
joint; and he was not the man to set it right. What
was wanted was not what he had in large measure, wit,
taste, amplitude of comprehension, subtlety in drawing
distinctions ; but what he had not, prompt decision, in-
defatigable energy, and stubborn resolution. His mind
was at best of too soft a temper for such work as
he had now to do, and had been recently made softer
by severe affliction. He had lost two sons in less than
twelve months. A letter is still extant, in which he
at this time complained to his honoured friend Lady
Russell of the desolation of his hearth and of the cruel
ingratitude of the Whigs. We possess, also, the answer,
in which she gently exhorted him to seek for consolation
where she had found it under trials not less severe
than lis.*
The first attack on him was made in the Upper
House. Some Whig Lords, among whom the wayward
and petulant First Lord of the Treasury was con-
spicuous, proposed that the Kinjg should be requested
to appoint a new Speaker. The friends of Halifax
moved and carried the previous question.f About
three weeks later his persecutors moved, in a Com-
• The letter of Halifax to Lady 10. 1689, and a letter from London
Russell is dated on the 23d of July dated July ^, and transmitted by
]689» about a fortnight after the Croissy to Avaux. Don Pedro de
attack on him in the Lords^ and Ronquillo mentions this attack of
aboat a week before the attack on the Whig Lords on Halifax in a
him in the Commons. despatch of which I cannot make
t See the Lords' Journals of July out the date.
410
mSTOBY OF ENGLAIH).
CHAP.
XIV.
1689.
Prepara-
tions for a
campaign
in Irelimd.
mlltee of the whole House of Commons, a resolution
which imputed to him no particular' crime either of
omission or of commission, but simply declared it to be
advisable that he should be dismissed &om the service
of the Crown. The debate was warm. Moderate poli-
ticians of both parties were imwilling to put a stigma
on a man, not indeed faultless, but distinguished both
by his abilities and by his amiable qualities. His ac-
cusers saw that they could not carry their point, and
tried to escape from a decision which was certain to be
adverse to them, by proposing that the Chairman should
report progress. But their tactics were disconcerted by
the judicious and spirited conduct of Lord Eland, now
the Marquess's only son. " My father has not deserved,"
said the young nobleman, " to be thus trifled with. K
you think him culpable, say so. He will at once sub-
mit to your verdict. Dismission from Court has no
terrors for him. He is raised, by the goodness of God,
above the necessity of looking to office for the means
of supporting his rank." The Committee divided, and
Halifax was absolved by a majority of fourteen.*
Had the division been postponed a few hours, the
majority would probably have been much greater. The
Commons voted under the impression that London-
♦ This was on Saturday the 3d of
August. As the division was in
Committee^ the numbers do not appear
in the Journals. Clarendon, in his
Diary, says that the majority was
eleven. But Narcissus Luttrell, Old-
mixon^ and Tindal agree in putting
it at fourteen. Most of the little
information which I have been able
to find about the debate is contained
in a despatch of Don Pedro de Ron-
quillo. ** Se resolvio/ he says, ** que
el sabado, en comity de toda la casa,
se tratasse del estado de la nacion
para representarle al Rey. Empe-
rose por acusar al Marques de Oli-
fax ; y reconociendo sus emulos que
no tenian partido bastante, quisieron
remitir para otro dia esta modon:
pero el Conde de Elan, primoge-
nito del Marques de Olitax, miem-
bro de la casa, les dijo que su padre
no era hombre para andar pelote-
ando con el, y que se tubiesse culpa
lo acabasen de castigar, que el no
havia menester estar en la corte para
portarse conforme d su estado, pues
Dios le havia dado abundamente
para poderlo hazer; con que por
pluralidad de voces vencio an par-
tido." I suspect that Lord Eland
meant to sneer at the poverty of
some of his father's peraecutora, and
at the greediness of othen.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 411
deny had fallen, and that all Ireland was lo^. Scarcely chap.
had the House risen when a courier arrived with ^'^'
news that the boom on the Foyle had been broken. He 1689.
was speedily followed by a second, who announced
the raising of the siege, and by a third who brought
the tidings of the battle of Ne^vton Butler. Hope
and exultation succeeded to discontent and dismay.*
Ulster was safe ; and it was confidently expected that
Schomberg would speedily reconquer Leinster, Con-
naught, and Munster. He was now ready to set out.
The port of Chester was the place from which he
was to take his departure. The army which he was
to command had assembled there; and the Dee was
crowded with men of war and transports. Unfortu-
nately almost all those English soldiers who had seen
war had been sent to Flanders. The bulk of the
force destined for Ireland consisted of men just taken
from the plough and the threshing floor. There was,
however, an excellent brigade of Dutch troops under
the command of an experienced officer, the Count of
Solmes. Four regiments, one of cavalry and three
of infantry, had been formed out of the French refu-
gees, many of whom had borne arms with credit. No
person did more to promote the raising of these regi-
ments than the Marquess of Ruvigny. He had been
during many years an eminently faithful and useful
servant of the French government. So highly was his
merit appreciated at Versailles that he had been so-
licited to accept indulgences which scarcely any other
heretic could by any solicitation obtain. Had he chosen
to remidn in his native country, he and his household
would have been permitted to worship God privately ac-
cording to their own forms. But Ruvigny rejected all
offers, cast in his lot with his brethren, and, at upwards
of eighty years of age, quitted Versailles, where he might
* This change of feeling, imme- motion for remoying Halifax, is no-
diately following the debate on the ticed by Ronquillo.
412 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, still have been a favourite, for a modest dwelling at
L Greenwich. That dwelling was, during the last months
1689. of his life, the resort of all that was most distinguished
among his fellow exiles. His abilities, his experience
and his munificent kindness, made him the undisputed
chief of the refugees. He was at the same time Imlf an
Englishman : for his sister had been Coimtess of South-
ampton, and he was imcle of Lady Russell. He was
long past the time of action. But his two sons, both
men of eminent courage, devoted their swords to the
service of William. The younger son, who bore the
name of Caillemote, was appointed colonel of one of the
Huguenot regiments of foot. The two other regiments
of foot were commanded by LaMelloniere and Cambon,
officers of high reputation. The regiment of horse
was raised by Schomberg himself, and bore his name.
Ruvigny lived just long enough to see these arrange-
ments complete.*
Sehom- The general to whom the direction of the expedition
^^*^" against Ireland was confided had wonderfully succeeded
in obtaining the affection and esteem of the English
nation. He had been made a Duke, a Knight of the
Garter, and Master of the Ordnance : he was now placed
at the head of an army : and yet his elevation excited
none of that jealousy which showed itself as often as
any mark of royal favour was bestowed on Bentinck, on
Zulestein, or on Auverquerque. Schomberg's military
skill was imiversally acknowledged. He was regarded
by all Protestants as a confessor who had endured every
thing short of martyrdom for the truth. For his re-
ligion he had resigned a splendid income, had laid
down the truncheon of a Marshal of France, and had,
at near eighty years of age, begun the world again as
♦ As to Ruvigny, see Saint fbgeeof thenameof Dumont This
Simon's Memoirs of the year 1697; narrative, which is in manuscript,
Burnet, i. 366, There is some in- and which I shall occasionally quote
teresting information ahout Ruvigny as the Dumont MS., was kindly lent
and about the Huguenot regiments in to me by the Dean of Ossory.
a narrative written by a French re-
WILLIAM AND MARY. 413
a needy soldier of fortune. As he had no connection chap.
XIV
with the United Provinces, and had never belonged to 1
the little Court of the Hague, the preference given to ^^'^S-
him over English captains was justly ascribed, not to
national or personal partiality, but to his virtues and
his abilities. His deportment differed widely from that
of the other foreigners who had just been created
English peers. They, with many respectable qualities,
were, in tastes, manners, and predilections, Dutchmen,
and could not catch the tone of the society to which
they had been transferred. He was a citizen of the
world, had travelled over all Europe, had commanded
armies on the Meuse, on the Ebro, and on the Tagus,
had shone in the splendid circle of Versailles, and had
been in high favour at the court of Berlin. He had
often been taken by French noblemen for a French
nobleman. He had passed some time in England,
spoke English remarkably well, accommodated himself
easily to English manners, and was often seen walking
in the park with English companions. In youth his
habits had been temperate ; and his temperance had
its proper reward, a singularly green and vigorous old
age. At fourscore he retained a strong relish for in-
nocent pleasures : he conversed with great courtesy
and sprightliness ; nothing could be in better taste
than his equipages and his table ; and every comet of
cavalry envied the grace and dignity with which the
veteran appeared in Hyde Park on his charger at the
head of his regiment.* The House of Commons had,
with general approbation, compensated his losses and
rewarded his services by a grant of a hundred thou-
sand pounds. Before he set out for Ireland, he re-
quested permission to express his gratitude for this
magnificent present. A chair was set for him within
the bar. He took his seat there with the mace at his
* See tbe Abr^^ de la Vie de Dohoa^ and the note of Saint Simon
Frederic Due de Schomberg by Ln- on Dangeau's Journal, July SO.
itLUCj, 1690, the Memoirs of Count 1(J9(X
414 niSTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, right hand, rose, and in a few graceful words returned
1 his thanks and took his leave. The Speaker replied
1^89. that the Commons could never forget the obligation
under which they already lay to His Grace, that they
saw him with pleasure at the head of an English
army, that they felt entire confidence in his zeal and
ability, and that, at whatever distance he might be, he
would always be in a peculiar manner an object of their
care. The precedent set on this interesting occasion
was followed with the utmost minuteness, a hundred
and twenty five years later, on an occasion more interest-
ing still. Exactly on the same spot on which, in July
1689, Schomberg had acknowledged the liberality of the
nation, a chair was set, in July 1814, for a still more
illustrious warrior, who came to return thanks for a still
more splendid mark of public gratitude. Few things
illustrate more strikingly the peculiar character of the
English government and people than the circumstance
that the House of Commons, a popular assembly, should,
even in a moment of joyous enthusiasm, have adhered
to ancient forms with the punctilious accuracy of a
College of Heralds; that the sitting and rising, the co-
vering and the uncovering, should have been regulated
by exactly the same etiquette in the nineteenth century
as in the seventeenth ; and that the same mace which
had been held at the right hand of Schomberg should
have been held in the same position at the right hand
of Wellington.*
Recess of On the twentieth of August the Parliament, hav-
Suiient. ^^S ^^^^ constantly engaged in business during seven
months, broke up, by the royal command, for a short
recess. The same Gazette which announced that the
Houses had ceased to sit announced that Schomberg
had landed in Ireland.f
* See the Commons* Journals of f Journals of the Lords and
July 16. 1689, and of July 1. Commons, Aug. 20. 1 689; Lon-
1814. don Gazette^ Aug. 22.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 415
During the three weeks which preceded his landing, chap.
the dismay and confusion at Dublin Castle had been L
extreme. Disaster had followed disaster so fast that 1^89.
the mind of James, never very firm, had been com- f^^l
pletely prostrated. He had learned first that London- Advice of
derry had been relieved; then that one of his armies
had been beaten by the Enniskilleners; then that an-
other of his armies was retreating, or rather flying,
from Ulster, reduced in numbers and broken in spirit;
then that Shgo, the key of Connaught, had been aban-
doned to the Englishiy. He had found it impossible
to subdue the colonists, even when they were left almost
unaided. He might therefore well doubt whether it
would be possible for him to contend against them when
they were backed by an English army, under the com-
mand of the greatest general living? The unhappy
prince seemed, during some days, to be sunk in de-
spondency. On Avaux the dsiiger produced a very
different effect. Now, he thought, was the time to turn
the war between the English and the Irish into a war
of extirpation, and to make it impossible that the two
nations could ever be imited under one government.
With this view, he coolly submitted to the King a pro-
position of almost incredible atrocity. There must be
a Saint Bartholomew. A pretext would easily be found.
No doubt, when Schomberg was known to be in Ire-
land, there would be some excitement in those southern
towns of which the population was chiefly English. Any
disturbance, wherever it might take place, would fur-
nish an excuse for a general massacre of the Protestants
of Leinster, Munster, and Connaught.* As the King
did not at first express any horror at this suggestion f ,
• '' J'estoig d'avis qu', apres que gen^ralement" — Avaux, ^^
la descent^ seroit faite, si on appre- 1 689.
noit que des Protestans ae fussent f '' Le Roy d*Angleterre m'avoit
aonleyei en qndquea endroits du ^cout^ auez paisiblement la pre-
Tojaume^ on fit main basse sur tous mi^e fois que je luy avois propose
\4
416 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, the Envoy, a few days later, renewed the subject, and
!• pressed His Miyesty to give the necessary orders. Then
i^S9. James, with a warmth which did him honour, declared
that nothing should induce him to commit such a crime.
" These people are my subjects ; and I cannot be so
cruel as to cut their throats while they live peaceably
under my government." "There is nothing cruel,"
answered the callous diplomatist, " in what I recom-
mend. Your Majesty ought to consider that mercy to
Protestants is cruelty to Catholics." James, however,
was not to be moved; and Avaux retired in very bad
humour. His belief was that the King's professions of
humanity were hypocritical, and that, if the orders for
the butchery were not given, they were not given only
because His Majesty was confident that the Catholics
all over the country would fall on the Protestants with-
out waiting for orders.* But Avaux was entirely mis-
taken. That he should have supposed James to be as
profoundly immoral as himself is not strange. But it
is strange that so able a man should have forgotten
that James and himself had quite different objects in
view. The object of the Ambassador's politics was
to make the separation between England and Ireland
eternal. The object of the King's politics was to unite
England and Ireland under his own sceptre; and he
could not but be aware that, if there should be a ge-
neral massacre of the Protestants of three provinces,
and he should be suspected of having authorised it or
of having connived at it, there would in a fortnight be
not a Jacobite left even at Oxford.f
ce qua y avoit k faire centre les . • . auh. 27. ^„„-^.„aj
ProlUtans/'-Avaux, Aug. tV , + Lewis -g^, repnmtniW
♦ Avaux, Aug. t\. He says, '' Je ^vaux, though much too genUy, for
m'imagine qu'U est persuade que, Propoang to butcher the whole Pro-
quoiqu'il ne donne point d'ordre sur ^es^*"' population of Ldnster, Con-
ceU, U plupart des CathoUques de n»"g^^' ^^^ Munster. « Je n'ap-
la campagne se jetteront sur les prouye pas cependant la proponUon
Protestans." ^^^ ^^^^ faites de fane main basae
WILLIAM AND MART. 417
Just at this time the prospects of James, which had chap.
seemed hopelessly dark, began to brighten. The danger '
which had unnerved him had roused the Irish people. ^^^9-
They had, six months before, risen up as one man against
the Saxons. The army which Tyrconnel had formed
was, in proportion to the population from which it was
taken, the largest that Europe had ever seen. But that
army had sustained a long succession of defeats and dis-
graces, unredeemed by a single brilliant achievement. It
was the fashion, both in England and on the Continent,
to ascribe those defeats and disgraces to the pusillanimity
of the Irish race.* That this was a great error is suffi-
ciently proved by the history of every war which has
been carried on in any part of Christendom during five
generations. The raw material out of which a good
army may be formed existed in great abundance among
the Irish. Avaux informed his government that they
were a remarkably handsome, tall, and well made race ;
that they were personally brave ; that they were sincerely
attached to the cause for which they were in arms;
that they were violently exasperated against the colo-
nists. After extolling their strength and spirit, he
proceeded to explain why it was that, with all their
strength and spirit, they were constantly beaten. It
was vain, he said, to imagine that bodily prowess, ani-
mal courage, or patriotic enthusiasm would, in the day
of battle, supply the place of discipline. The infantry
were Dl armed and ill trained. They were suffered
to pillage wherever they went. They had contracted
tar tons les ProtestanB da royaume, armez et soutenua de toutes les
da moment qa', en quelque endroit forces d*AngIeterre."
que ee idt, ila se aeront souleyez: * Ronquillo, Aug. -^.^ speaking
ety outre que la punition d*une infi • of the siege of Londonderry, ex-
ult^ d'inuooena pour peu de coupables presses his astonishment "que una
ne seroit paa juste, d'ailleurs les re- plaza sin fortificazion y sin gentes
pr^taillei oontre les Catholiques se- de guerra aya hecho una defensa
roient d'autint plus dangereuses, que tan gloriosa, y que los sitiadores al
let premieit, se trouveront mieux contrario ayan sido tan poltroneo,"
VOL. III. E E
418 niSTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, all the habits of banditti. There was among them
^^^' scarcely one oflBicer capable of showing them their duty.
J 689. Their colonels were generally men of good family, but
men who had never seen service. The capt^s were
butchers, tailors, shoemakers. Hardly one of them
troubled himself about the comforts, the accoutrements,
or the drilling of those over whom he was placed. The
dragoons were little better than the infantry. But the
horse were, with some exceptions, excellent. Almost
aU the Irish gentlemen who had any military experi-
ence held commissions in the cavalry; and, by the ex-
ertions of these officers, some regiments had been raised
and disciplined which Avaux pronounced equal to any
that he had ever seen. It was therefore evident that
the inefficiency of the foot and of the dragoons was to
be ascribed to the vices, not of the Irish character, but
of the Irish administration.*
The events which took place in the autumn of 1689
sufficiently proved that the ill fated race, which enemies
and allies generally agreed in regarding with unjust
* This account of the Irish army lent tout ce qu ils trouvent en che-
is compiled from numerous letters min." " Quoiqu*il soit vrai que
written by Avaux to Lewis and to les soldats paroissent fort r^lui
Lewis's ministers. I will quote a a bien faire, et qu'ils soient fort
few of the most remarkable pas- animez contre les rebelles, n^ant-
sages. '' Les plus beaux hommes^" moins il ne suffit pas de cela pour
Avaux says of the Irish, *' qu'on combattre Les officiers subal-
peut voir. II n'y en a presque point ternes sont mauvais, et, k la reserte
au dessous de cinq pieds cinq a six d'un tres petit nombre^ il n*y en
pouces." It will be remembered a point qui ayt soin des soldat;,
that the French foot is longer than des armes, et de la discipline." " On
ours. *' lis sont tr^s bien faits: a beaucoup plus de confiance en
mais il ne sont ny disciplinez ny la cavalerie, dont la plus grande
armez, et de surplus sont de grands partie est assez bonne." Avaux
voleurs " '* La plupart de ces re- mentions several regiments of hone
gimens «ont levez par des gentils- with particular praise. Of two of
hommes qui n ont jamais este k these he says, '* On ne peut voir de
I'arm^e. Ce sont des tailleurs^ des meilleur regiment.** The correct
bouchers^ des cordonniers, qui ont ness of the opinion which he had
forme les compagnies et qui en sont formed both of the infantry and of
les Capitaines." '< Jamais troupes the cavalry was^ after his departure
n*ont march^ comme font celles-cy. from Ireland^ signally proved at the
lis Yont comme des bandits^ et pil- Boyne.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 419
contempt, had, together with the faults inseparable from chap.
poverty, ignorance, and superstition, some fine qua- ^^^'
lities which have not always been found in more pro- i689.
sperous and more enlightened communities. The evil
tidings which terrified and bewildered James stirred
the whole population of the southern provinces like the
peal of a trumpet sounding to battle. That Ulster
was lost, that the English were coming, that the death
grapple between the two hostile nations was at hand,
was proclaimed from all the altars of three and twenty
counties. One last chance was left ; and, if that chance
failed, nothing remained but the despotic, the mer-
ciless, rule of the Saxon colony and of the heretical
church. The Roman Catholic priest who had just
taken possession o^ the glebe house and the chancel,
the Roman Catholic squire who had just been carried
back on the shoulders of the shouting tenantry into the
hall of his fathers, would be driven forth to live on
such alms as peasants, themselves oppressed and miser-
able, could spare. A new confiscation would complete
the work of the Act of Settlement ; and the followers of
William would seize whatever the followers of Crom-
well had spared. These apprehensions produced such
an outbreak of patriotic and religious enthusiasm as
deferred for a time the inevitable day of subjugation.
Avaux was amazed by the energy which, in circum-
stances so trying, the Irish displayed. It was indeed
the wild and unsteady energy of a half barbarous
people : it was transient : it was often misdirected :
but, though transient and misdirected, it did wonders.
The French Ambassador was forced to own that those
officers of whose incompetency and inactivity he had so
often complained had suddenly shaken off their lethargy.
Recruits came in by thousands. The ranks which had
been thinned under the walls of Londonderry were soon
again full to overflowing. Great efforts were made to
arm and clothe the troops; and, in the short space of
B E 2
420 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, a fortnight^ every thing presented a new and cheeriog
^^^' aspect.*
1689. The Irish required of the King, in return for their
Dismission strcHUous exertioHS in his cause, one concession which
was by no means agreeable to him. The unpopular-
ity of Melfort had become such, that his person was
scarcely safe. He had no friend to speak a word in his
favour. The French hated him. In every letter which
arrived at Dublin from England or from Scotland, he
was described as the evil genius of the House of Stu-
art. It was necessary for his own sake to dismiss him.
An honourable pretext was found. He was ordered
to repair to Versailles, to represent there the state of
affairs in Ireland, and to implore the French govern-
ment to send over without delay six or seven thousand
veteran infantry. He laid down the seals ; and they were,
to the great delight of the Irish, put into the hands of
an Irishman, Sir Richard Nagle, who had made himself
conspicuous as Attorney General and Speaker of the
House of Commons. Melfort took his departure under
cover of the night : for the rage of the populace against
him was such that he could not without danger show
himself in the streets of Dublin by day. On the fol-
lowing morning James left his capital in the opposite
direction to encounter Schombcrg.f
Schomberg Schombcrg had landed in Antrim. The force which
uLter"^ he had brought with him did not exceed ten thousand
* I will quote a passage or two en si bon estat : mais my Lord
from the despatches written at this Tyrconnel et tons les Irlandais ont
time by Avaux. On September t^. travaill^ avec tant d'cmpresaement
he says: *< De quelque coste qu'on <1^'®" ^'««* ™" ^" esUt de deffcnse."
se tournat^ on ne pouvoit rien t Avaux, Aug. j^. ^^' ^ ' '^^ ^ ;
prevoir que de de'sagre'able. Mais Life of James, ii. 373. ; Melfort'i
dans cette extr^mite chacun s'est vindication of himself among the
c'vertue. Les officiers out fait leurs Naime Papers. Avaux says : " II
recrues avec beaucoup de diligence^" pourra partir ce soir a la nuit : cir
Three days later he says : " II y a je vois bien qu'il apprehende qull
quinze jours que nous n'csp^rions ne sera pas sur pour luy de partir
guere de pouvoir mettre les choses en plein jour.**
WILLIAM AND liAUY. 421
men. But he expected to be loined by the armed chap.
• XIV
colonists and by the regiments which were under 1
Ejrke's command. The coffeehouse politicians of Lon- 1689-
don fully expected that such a general with such an
army would speedily reconquer the island. Unhap-
pily it soon appeared that the means which had been
furnished to him were altogether inadequate to the
work which he had to perform : of the greater part of
these means he was speedily deprived by a succession
of unforeseen calamities; and the whole campaign was
merely a long struggle maintained by his prudence and
resolution against the utmost spite of fortune.
He marched first to Carrickfergus. That town was Camck-
held for James by two regiments of infantry. Schom- t^S!
berg battered the walls; and the Irish, after holding
out a week, capitulated. He promised that they should
depart unharmed; but he found it no easy matter to
keep his word. The people of the town and neighbour-
hood were generally Protestants of Scottish extraction.
They had suffered much during the short ascendency of
the native race; and what they had suffered they were
now eager to retaliate. They assembled in great mul-
titudes, exclaiming that the capitulation was nothing to
them, and that they would be revenged. They soon
proceeded fix)m words to blows. The Irish, disanned,
stripped, and hustled, clung for protection to the
English officers and soldiers. Schomberg with diffi-
culty prevented a massacre by spurring, pistol in hand,
through the throng of the enraged colonists.*
From Carrickfergus Schomberg proceeded to Lis-
bum, and thence, through towns left without an inha-
bitant, and over plains on which not a cow, nor a
sheep, nor a stack of com was to be seen, to Loughbrick-
land. Here he was joined by three regiments of Ennis-
♦ Story's Imptnial History of l689; Nihell's Journal, printed in
the Win of Ireknd, l693 ; Life of 1689, and reprinted by Macpher-
Jameiy iu 374. ; A?aux, Sept. /y. son.
E E 3
422 HISTORY OF ENGLAND,
CHAP, killeners, whose dress, horses, and arms looked strange
1, to eyes accustomed to the pomp of reviews, but who in
1689, natural courage were inferior to no troops in the world,
and who had, during months of constant watching and
skirmishing, acquired many of the essential qualities of
soldiers.*
Schomberg Schombcrg continued to advance towards Dublin
iiito*Lcin- through a desert. The few Irish troops which re-
*^'- mained in the south of Ulster retreated before him,
destroying as they retreated. Newry, once a well built
and thriving Protestant borough, he found a heap of
smoking ashes. Carlingford too had perished. The
spot where the town had once stood was marked only
by the massy remains of the old Norman castle. Those
who ventured to wander from the camp reported that
the country, as far as they could explore it, was a
wilderness. There were cabins, but no inmates : there
was rich pasture, but neither flock nor herd : there were
cornfields; but the harvest lay on the ground soaked
with rain.f
T^^E"«- AVhile Schomberg was advancing through a vast
Irish solitude, the Irish forces were rapidly assembling
cISJp near ^^^ cvery quarter. On the tenth of September the
each other, royal Standard of James was imfurled on the tower of
Drogheda ; and beneath it were soon collected twenty
thousand fighting men, the infantry generally bad, the
cavalry generally good, but both infantry and cavalry
full of zeal for their country and their religion. J The
troops were attended as usual by a great multitude of
camp followers, armed with scythes, half pikes, and
skeans. By this time Schomberg liad reached Dun-
dalk. The distance between the two armies was not
more than a long day's march. It was therefore
* Story's Impartial History. and James agree in estimating the
t Ibid. Irish army at about twenty thou-
} Avaux, Sep. ^J. l689\ Story's sand men. Sec also Dangeau, Oct.
Impartial History ; LifeofJames^ 28. 1 689.
ii. S77> 378. Orig. Mem. Story
WILLIAM AND MARY. 423
generally expected that the fate of the island would chap.
speedily be decided by a pitched battle. L
In both camps, all who did not understand war were ^^^^'
eager to fight ; and, in both camps, the few who had
a high reputation for military science were against
fighting. Neither Eosen nor Schomberg wished to put
every thing on a cast. Each of them knew intimately
the defects of his own army ; and neither of them was
fully aware of the defects of the other's army. Rosen
was certain that the Irish infantry were worse equipped,
worse officered, and worse drilled, than any infantry
that he had ever seen from the Gulf of Bothnia to the
Atlantic; and he supposed that the English troops
were well trained, and were, as they doubtless ought to
have been, amply provided with every thing necessary
to their efficiency. Numbers, he rightly judged, would
avail little against a great superiority of arms and
discipline. He therefore advised James to fall back,
and even to abandon Dublin to the enemy, rather
than hazard a battle the loss of which would be the
loss of all. Athlone was the best place in the kingdom
for a determined stand. The passage of the Shannon
might be defended till the succours which Melfort had
been charged to solicit came from France ; and those
succours would change the whole character of the war.
But the Irish, with Tyrconnel at their head, were
unanimous against retreating. The blood of the whole
nation was up. James was pleased with the enthu-
siasm of his subjects, and positively declared that he
would not disgrace himself by leaving his capital to the
invaders without a blow.*
In a few days it became clear that Schomberg had Schomberg
determined not to fight. His reasons were weighty, ba^k.^*
He had some good Dutch and French troops. The
EnniskiUeners who had joined him had served a military
apprenticeship, though not in a very regular manner,
♦ Life of Jame«, ii. 377, 378. Orig. Mem.
E K 4r
nat
424 H^TOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. But the bulk of his army consisted of English peasants
^^' who had just left their cottages. His musketeers had
1689« still to learn how to load their pieces : his dragoons
Fraudg of had Still to leam how to manage their horses ; and these
Commfswl- inexperienced recruits were for the most part com-
manded by officers as inexperienced as themselves. His
troops were therefore not generally superior in disci-
pline to the Irish, and were in number far inferior.
Nay, he found that his men were almost as ill armed,
as ill lodged, as ill clad, as the Celts to whom they were
opposed. The wealth of the English nation and the
liberal votes of the English parliament had entitled him
to expect that he should be abundantly supplied with
all the munitions of war. But he was cruelly disap-
pointed. The administration had, ever since the death
of Oliver, been constantly becoming more and more
imbecile, more and more corrupt ; and now the Revo-
lution reaped what the Restoration had sown. A crowd
of negligent or ravenous functionaries, formed under
Charles and James, plundered, starved, and poisoned the
armies and fleets of William. Of these men the most
important was Henry Shales, who, in the late reign,
had been Commissary General to the camp at Houns-
low. It is difficult to blame the new government for
continuing to employ him : for, in his own department,
his experience far surpassed that of any other English-
man. Unfortunately, in the same school in wliicli he
had acquired his experience, he had learned the whole
art of peculation. The beef and brandy which he fur-
nished were so bad that the soldiers turned from them
with loathing : the tents were rotten : the clothing was
scanty : the muskets broke in the handling. Great
numbers of shoes were set down to the account of the
government : but, two months after the Treasury had
paid the bill, the shoes had not arrived in Ireland. The
means of transporting baggage and artillery were almost
entirely wanting. An ample number of horses had
WILLIAM AND MARY. 425
been purchased in England with the public money, and chap.
had been sent to the banks of the Dee. But Shales had ^'^y
let them out for harvest work to the farmers of Cheshire, 1689.
had pocketed the hire, and had left the troops in Ulster
to get on as they best might.* Schomberg thought
that, if he should, with an ill trained and ill appointed
army, risk a battle against a superior force, he might
not improbably be defeated ; and he knew that a defeat
might be followed by the loss of one kingdom, perhaps
by the loss of three kingdoms. He therefore made up
his mind to stand on the defensive till his men had
been disciplined, and till reinforcements and supplies
should arrive.
He entrenched himself near Dundalk in such a manner
that he could not be forced to fight against his will.
James, emboldened by the caution of his adversary, and
disregarding the advice of Rosen, advanced to Ardee,
appeared at the head of the whole Irish army before the
English lines, drew up horse, foot and artillery, in
order of battle, and displayed his banner. The English
were impatient to fall on. But their general had made
up his mind, and was not to be moved by the bravadoes
of the enemy or by the murmurs of his own soldiers.
During some weeks he remained secure within his
defences, while the Irish lay a few miles oflF. He set
himself assiduously to drill those new levies which
formed the greater part of his army. He ordered the
musketeers to be constantly exercised in firing, some-
times at marks and sometimes by platoons ; and, from
the way in which they at first acquitted themselves, it
plainly appeared that he had judged wisely in not lead-
ing them out to battle. It was found that not one in
four of the English soldiers could manage his piece
at all; and whoever succeeded in discharging it, no
* See Grey's Debates^ Not. Z6, between a Lord Lieutenant and one
Stly S8. 16899 and the Dialogue of his deputies, I692.
426 HISTORY 07 ENGLAKP.
CHAP, matter in what direction, thought that he had performed
L a great feat.
1689. While the Duke was thus employed, the Irish eyed
^mSSrX^ his camp without daring to attack it. But within that
French camp sooH appeared two evils more terrible than the
thTE^gUsh foe, treason and pestilence. Among the best troops
service. under his command were the French exiles. And now
a grave doubt arose touching their fidelity. The real
Huguenot refugee indeed might safely be trusted. The
dislike with which the most zealous English Protestant
regarded the House of Bourbon and the Church of
Rome was a lukewarm feeling when compared with
that inextinguishable hatred which glowed in the bosom
of the persecuted, dragooned, expatriated Calvinist of
Languedoc. The Irish had already remarked that the
French heretic neither gave nor took quarter.* Now,
however, it was found that with those emigrants who
had sacrificed every thing for the reformed religion
were intermingled emigrants of a very different sort,
deserters who had run away from their standards in
the Low Countries, and had coloured their crime by
pretending that they were Protestants, and that their
conscience would not suffer them to fight for the perse-
cutor of their Church. Some of these men, hoping that
by a second treason they might obtain both pardon and
reward, opened a correspondence with Avaux. The
letters were intercepted ; and a formidable plot was
brought to light. It appeared that, if Schomberg had
been weak enough to yield to the importunity of those
who wished him to give battle, several French companies
would, in the heat of the action, have fired on the
English, and gone over to the enemy. Such a defection
might weU have produced a general panic in a. better
♦ Nihell's Journal. A French que lea Anglois, et tuent force
officer, in a lelter to Avaux, written Catholiques pour avoir fait r^sis-
soon i^ter Schomberg*8 landing, says, tanoe."
^' Leu Huguenots font plus de mal
WILLIAM AND MARY 427
army than that which was encamped under Dundalk. chap.
It was necessary to be severe. Six of the conspirators L
were hanged. Two hundred of their accomplices were ^6^9'
sent in irons to England. Even after this winnowing,
the refugees were long regarded by the rest of the army
^vith unjust but not unnatural suspicion. During some
days indeed there was great reason to fear that the
enemy would be entertained with a bloody fight between
the English soldiers and their French alUes.*
A few hours before the execution of the chief con- Pestilence
spirators, a general muster of the army was held ; and lUi'^a^r^yf'
it was observed that the ranks of the English battalions
looked thin. From the first day of the campaign, there
had been much sickness among the recruits : but it
was not till the time of the equinox that the mortal-
ity became alarming. The autumnal rains of Ireland
are usually heavy ;^ and this year they were heavier
than usual. The whole country was deluged ; and the
Duke's camp became a marsh. The Enniskillen men
were seasoned to the climate. The Dutch were accus-
tomed to live in a country which, as a wit of that age
said, draws fifty feet of water. They kept their huts
dry and clean ; and they had experienced and careful
officers who did not sufifer them to omit any precau-
tion. But the peasants of Yorkshire and Derbyshire
had neither constitutions prepared to resist the perni-
cious influence, nor skill to protect themselves against
it. The bad provisions furnished by the Commissariat
aggravated the maladies generated by the air. Reme-
dies were almost entirely wanting. The surgeons were
few. The medicine chests contained little more than
lint and plaisters for wounds. The English sickened
and died by hundreds. Even those who were not
* Story; Narratiye trannnitted was in the camp before Dundalk,
byAvauxtoSeignelay, ^^^1689; <he«'e » in his MS. no mention of
London Gazette, Oct. iW l689. the conspiracy among the French.
It is curious that, though Dumont
i28 HISTOEY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, smitten by the pestilence were unnerved and dejected,
^^' and, instead of putting forth the energy which is the
1689. heritage of our race, awaited their fate with the helpless
apathy of Asiatics. It was in vain that Schomberg
tried to teach them to improve their habitations, and to
cover the wet earth on which they lay with a thick
carpet of fern. Exertion had become more dreadful to
them than death. It was not to be expected that men
who would not help themselves should help each other.
Nobody asked and nobody showed compassion. Famili-
arity with ghastly spectacles produced a hardheartedness
and a desperate impiety, of which an example will not
easily be found even in the history of infectious diseases.
The moans of the sick were drowned by the blasphemy
and ribaldry of their comrades. Sometimes, seated on
the body of a wretch who had died in the morning,
might be seen a wretch destined to die before night,
cursing, singing loose songs, and swallowing usque-
baugh to the health of the devil. When the corpses
were taken away to be buried the survivors grumbled.
A dead man, they said, was a good screen and a good
stool. Why, when there was so abundant a supply of
such useful articles of furniture, were people to be ex-
posed to the cold air and forced to crouch on the moist
ground?*
Many of the sick were sent by the English vessels
which lay off the coast to Belfast, where a great hospital
had been prepared. But scarce half of them lived to
the end of the voyage. More than one ship lay long in
the bay of Carrickfergus heaped with carcasses, and
exhaling the stench of death, without a living man on
board.f
* Story's Impartial History ; Du- and prose. See particularly a Satire
mont MS. The profaneness and entitled Reformation of Manners^
dissoluteness of the camp during the part ii.
sickness are mentioned in many con- f Story*s Impartial History,
temporary pamphlets both in verse
WILLIAM AND MARY. 429-
The Irish army suffered much less. The keme of chap.
. XIV
Munster or Coimaught was quite as well off in the 1
camp as if he had been in his own mud cabin inha- i^^S-
ling the vapours of his own quagmire. He naturally
exulted in the distress of the Saxon heretics, and flat-
tered himself that they would be destroyed without a
blow. He heard with delight the guns pealing all day
over the graves of the EngUsh officers, till at length the
funerals became too numerous to be celebrated with
military pomp, and the mournful sounds were succeeded
by a silence more moumftil stUl.
The superiority of force was now so decidedly on the
side of James that he could safely venture to detach
five regiments from his army, and to send them into
Connaught. Sarsfield commanded them. He did not,
indeed, stand so high as he deserved in the royal esti-
mation. The King, with an air of intellectual superi-
ority which must have made Avaux and Rosen bite
their lips, pronounced him a brave fellow, but very
scantily supplied with brains. It was not without great
difficulty that the Ambassador prevailed on His Majesty
to raise the best officer in the Irish army to the rank of
Brigadier. Sarsfield now fully vindicated the favour-
able opinion which his French patrons had formed of
•him. He dislodged the English from Sligo; and he
effectually secured Galway, which had been in consi-
derable danger.*
No attack, however, was made on the English en-
trenchments before Dundalk. In the midst of diffi-
culties and disasters hourly multiplying, the great
qualities of Schomberg appeared hourly more and more
conspicuous. Not in the full tide of success, not on
the field of Montes Claros, not under the walls of
Maastricht, had he so well deserved the admiration of
mankind. His resolution never gave way. His pru-
* Avaux, Oct ff. Not. ^1689; James^ ii. 382, 383. Orig. Mem.;
Story *8 Impaitial History ; Life of Nihell's Journal.
430 HisTOur OF England.
CHAP, dence never slept. His temper, in spite of manifold
L vexations and provocations, was always cheerful and
1689. serene. The eflfective men under his command, even if
all were reckoned as effective who were not stretched on
the earth hy fever, did not now exceed five thousand.
These were hardly equal to their ordinary duty ; and
yet it was necessary to harass them with double duty.
Nevertheless so masterly were the old man's dispo-
sitions that with this small force he faced during several
weeks twenty thousand troops who were accompanied
The Eng. by a multitude of armed banditti. At length early in
iiSh"*^ November the Irish dispersed, and went to winter
amies go quarters. The Duke then broke up his camp and re-
quartere. tired iuto Ulster. Just as the remains of his army
were about to move, a rumour spread that the enemy
was approaching in great force. Had this rumour been
true, the danger would have been extreme. But the
English regiments, though they had been reduced to a
third part of their complement, and though the men
who were in best health were hardly able to shoulder
arms, showed a strange joy and alacrity at the pros-
pect of battle, and swore that the Papists should pay
for all the misery of the last month. " We English,"
Schomberg said, identifying himself goodhumouredly
with the people of the country which had adopted him,
" we English have stomach enough for fighting. It is
a pity that we are not as fond of some other parts of a
soldier's business."
The alarm proved false : the Duke's army departed
unmolested: but the highway along which he retired
presented a piteous and hideous spectacle. A long train
of waggons laden with the sick jolted over the rugged
pavement. At every jolt some wretched man gave up
the ghost. The corpse was flung out and left unburied
to the foxes and crows. The whole number of those
who died, in the camp at Dundalk, in the hospital at
Belfast, on the road, and on the sea, amounted to above
WILLIAM AND MARY. 431
six thousand. The survivors were quartered for the ^^J^'
winter in the towns and villages of Ulster. The general ^
fixed his head quarters at Lisbum.* ^^®^'
His conduct was variously judged. Wise and candid Varions
men said that he had surpassed himself, and that there about""'
was no other captain in Europe who, with raw troops, ^^ Tcon-
with ignorant officers, with scanty stores, having to duct
contend at once against a hostile army of greatly supe-
rior force, against a villanous commissariat, against a
nest of traitors in his own camp, and against a disease
more murderous than the sword, would have brought
the campaign to a close without the loss of a flag or a
gun. On the other hand, many of those newly com-
missioned majors and captains, whose helplessness had
increased all his perplexities, and who had not one qua-
lification for their posts except personal courage, grum-
bled at the skill and patience which had saved them
from destruction. Their complaints were echoed on the
other side of Saint George's Channel. Some of the mur-
muring, though unjust, was excusable. The parents, who
had sent a gallant lad, in his first uniform, to fight his
way to glory, might be pardoned if, when they learned
that he had died on a wisp of straw without medical at-
tendance, and had been buried in a swamp without any
Christian or military ceremony, their affliction made
them hasty and unreasonable. But with the cry of
bereaved families was mingled another cry much less
respectable. All the hearers and tellers of news abused
the general who furnished them with so little news to
hear and to tell. For men of that sort are so greedy
* Story's Impartial History ; constantly said to be in good condi-
Scbomber^s Despatches ; Niheli's tion. In the absurd drama entitled
Journal, and James's Life ; Burnet, the Royal Voyage, which was acted
ii. 20. ; Dangeau's journal during for the amusement of the rabble of
this autumn; the Narrative sent by London in iGSQ* the Irish are re-
Avauz to Seignelay, and the Du- presentetl as attacking some of the
mont MS. The lying of the Lon- sick English. The English put the
don Gaiette is monstrous. Through assailants to the rout, and then drop
the whole tntumn the troops are down dead.
432 HISTORY OF BNGLAKD.
CHAP, after excitement that they far more readily for^ve a
^^^' commander who loses a battle than a commander who
lOsg. declines one. The politicians, who delivered their ora-
cles from the thickest cloud of tobacco smoke at Garro-
way's, confidently asked, without knowing any thing,
either of war in general, or of Irish war in particular,
why Schomberg did not fight. They could not venture
to say that he did not understand his calling. No doubt
he had been an excellent officer : but he was very old.
He seemed to bear his years well : but his faculties were
not what they had been: his memory was failing; and
it was well known that he sometimes forgot in the af-
ternoon what he had done in the morning. It may
be doubted whether there ever existed a human being
whose mind was quite as firmly toned at eighty as at
forty. But that Schomberg's intellectual powers had
been little impaired by years is sufficiently proved by
his despatches, which are still extant, and which are
models of official writing, terse, perspicuous, full of im-
portant facts and weighty reasons, compressed into the
smallest possible number of words. In those despatches
he sometimes alluded, not angrily, but with calm dis-
dain, to the censures thrown upon his conduct by shallow
babblers, who, never having seen any military operation
more important than the relieving of the guard at
Whitehall, imagined that the easiest thing in the world
was to gain great victories in any situation and against
any odds, and by sturdy patriots who were convinced
that one English carter or thresher, who had not yet
learned how to load a gun or port a pike, was a match
for any five musketeers of King Lewis's household.*
Maritime Unsatisfactory as had been the results of the cam-
paign in Ireland, the results of the maritime operations
of the year were more unsatisfactory still. It had been
confidently expected that, on the sea, England, allied
with Holland, would have been far more than a match
* See his despatches in the appendix to Dalrymple*s Memoirs.
affiurs.
WILLIAM AND MARY, 433
for the power of Lewis: but every thing went wrong, chap
Herbert had, after the unimportant skirmish of Bantry ^^^'
Bay, returned with his squadron to Portsmouth. There 1^89.
he found that he had not lost the good opinion either
of the public or of the government. The House of
Commons thanked him for his services ; and he received
signal marks of the favour of the Crown. He had not
been at the coronation, and had therefore missed his
share of the rewards which, at the time of that solem-
nity, had been distributed among the chief agents in
the Revolution. The omission was now repaired; and
he was created Earl of Torrington. The King went
down to Portsmouth, dined on board of the AdmiraVs
flag ship, expressed the fullest confidence in the valour
and loyalty of the navy, knighted two gallant captains,
Cloudesley Shovel and John Ashby, and ordered a
donative to be divided among the seamen.*
We cannot justly blame William for having a high Maiadmi-
opinion of Torrington. For Torrington was generally ©f T?ifJ?ng-
regarded as one of the bravest and most skilful officers ^^
in the navy. He had been promoted to the rank of
Rear Admiral of England by James, who, if be under-
stood any thing, understood maritime afiairs. That
place and other lucrative places Torrington had re-
linquished when he foimd that he could retain them
only by submitting to be a tool of the Jesuitical cabal.
No man had taken a more active, a more hazardous, or
a more useful part in efiecting the Revolution. It
seemed, therefore, that no man had fairer pretensions
to be put at the head of the naval administration.
Yet no man could be more unfit for such a post. His
morals had always been loose, so loose indeed that the
firmness with which in the late reign he had adhered
to his religion had excited much surprise. His glorious
disgrace indeed seemed to have produced a salutary eflfect
on his character. In poverty and exile he rose from a
* London Gazette, May 20. lG89.
VOL. m. F F
434 HISTOHT OF ENGLAlin).
CHAP, voluptuary into a hero. But, as soon as prosperity re-
^^' turned, the hero sank agam into a voluptuary ; and the
1689. lapse was deep and hopeless. The nerves of his mind,
which had been during a short time braced to a firm
tone, were now so much relaxed by vice that he was
utterly incapable of selfdenial or of strenuous exertion.
The vulgar courage of a foremast ntian he still retained.
But both as Admiral and as First Lord of the Ad-
miralty he was utterly inefficient. Month after month
the fleet which should have been the terror of the seas
lay in harbour while he was diverting himself in Lon-
don. The sailors, punning upon his new title, gave hiTn
the name of Lord Tarry-in-town. When he came on
shipboard he was accompanied by a bevy of courtesans.
There was scarcely an hour of the day or of the night
when he was not under the influence of claret. Being
insatiable of pleasure, he necessarily became insatiable of
wealth. Yet he loved flattery ahnost as much as either
wealth or pleasure. He had long been in the habit of
exacting the most abject homage from those who were
under his command. His flag ship was a little Ver-
sailles. He expected his captains to attend him to his
cabin when he went to bed, and to assemble every
morning at his levee. He even suffered them to dress
him. One of them combed his flowing wig ; another
stood ready with the embroidered coat. Under such
a chief there could be no discipline. His tars passed
their time in rioting among the rabble of Portsmouth.
Those officers who won his favour by servility and
adulation easily obtained leave of absence, and spent
weeks in London, revelling in taverns, scouring the
streets, or making love to the masked ladies in the pit
of the theatre. The victuallers soon found out with
whom they had to deal, and sent down to the fleet
casks of meat which dogs would not touch, and barrels
of beer which smelt worse than bilge water. Mean-
while the British Channel seemed to be abandoned
WILLIAM AND MARY. 435
to French rovers. Our merchantmen were boarded in chap.
sight of the ramparts of Plymouth. The sugar fleet ^^*
from the West Indies lost seven ships. The whole ^^89'
value of the prizes taken by the cruisers of the enemy
in the immediate neighbourhood of our island, while
Torrington was engaged with his bottle and his harem,
was estimated at six hundred thousand poimds. So diffi-
cult was it to obtain the convoy of a man of war, except
by giving immense bribes, that our traders were forced
to hire the services of Dutch privateers, and found these
foreign mercenaries much more useful and much less
greedy than the officers of our own royal navy.*
The only department with which no fault could be Continen-
found was the department of Foreign AflFairs. There ^ **^*^
William was his own minister ; and, where he was his
own minister, there were no delays, no blunders, no
jobs, no treasons. The difficulties with which he had
to contend were indeed great. Even at the Hague he
had to encounter an opposition which aU his wisdom
and firmness could, with the strenuous support of
Heinsius, scarcely overcome. The English were not
aware that, while they were murmuring at their Sove-
reign's partiality for the land of his birth, a strong
party in Holland was murmuring at his partiality for
the land of his adoption. The Dutch ambassadors at
Westminster complained that the terms of alliance
which he proposed were derogatory to the dignity and
prejudicial to the interests of the republic ; that wher-
ever the honour of the English flag was concerned,
he was punctilious and obstinate ; that he perempto-
rily insisted on an article which interdicted aU trade
with France, and which could not but be grievously
felt on the Exchange of Amsterdam ; that, when they
* Commwnf Jonnials, Not. 18. of the Bearbaiting, Refonnation of
S3. 1689; Oiey's Debates^ Nov. Manners, a Satire^ the Mock Mourn-
13, 14. 18. 28. 1689. See, among era, a Satire. See also Pepys's Di-
numeroiu pasqidnadei^ the Parable ary kept at Tangier, Oct. 15. I688.
p p 2
436 • HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, expressed a hope that the Navigation Act would be
^^' repealed, he burst out a laughing, and told them that
16*89. the thing was not to be thought of. He carried all
his points ; and a solemn contract was made by which
England and the Batavian federation boimd themselves
to stand firmly by each other agamst France, and not
to make peace except by mutual consent. But one of
the Dutch plenipotentiaries declared that he was afraid
of being one day held up to obloquy as a traitor for con-
ceding so much ; and the signature of another plainly
appeared to have been traced by a hand shaking with
emotion.*
Meanwhile under William's skilful management a
treaty of alliance had been concluded between the States
General and the Emperor. To that treaty Spain and
England gave in their adhesion; and thus the four
great powers which had long been bound together by
a friendly understanding were bound together by a
formal contract-!
But before that formal contract had been signed
and sealed, all the contracting parties were in arms.
Early in the year 1689 war was raging all over the
Continent from the Haemus to the Pyrenees. France,
attacked at once on every side, made on every side
a vigorous defence ; and her Turkish allies kept a
great German force fully employed in Servia and
Bulgaria. On the whole, the results of the military
operations of the summer were not unfavourable to
the confederates. Beyond the Danube, the Christians,
under Prince Lewis of Baden, gained a succession of
victories over the Mussulmans. In the passes of
RoussiUon, the French troops contended without any
♦ The beat account of these ne- kan." The treaties will be found
gotiations will be found in Wage- in Dumont's Corps Diplomatique,
naar^ Ixi. He had access to Witsen's They were signed in August 1689.
papers, and has quoted largely from t The treaty between the Enipe-
them. It was Witsen who signed ror and the States Greneral is dau*d
in violent agiution, '< zo als/' he May 12. I689. It will be found
aays, '^ myne beevende hand getuigen in Dumont's Corps Diplomatique.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 437
decisive advantage against the martial peasantry of chap.
Catalonia. One German army, led by the Elector L
of Bavaria, occupied the Archbishopric of Cologne. ^^^9*
Another was commanded by Charles, Duke of Lor-
raine, a sovereign who, driven from his own domi-
nions by the arms of France, had turned soldier of
fortune, and had, as such, obtained both distinction
and revenge. He marched against the devastators of
the Palatinate, forced them to retire behind the Rhine,
and, after a long siege, took the important and strongly
fortified city of Mentz.
Between the Sambre and the Meuse the French, com-
manded by Marshal Humieres, were opposed to the
Dutch, commanded by the Prince of Waldeck, an officer
who had long served the States Greneral with fidelity,
and ability, though not always with good fortune, and
who stood high in the estimation of William. Under
Waldeck's orders was Marlborough, to whom William
had confided an English brigade consisting of the best
regiments of the old army of James. Second to Marl-
borough in command, and second also in professional
skUl, was Thomas Talmash, a brave soldier, destined to
a fate never to be mentioned without shame and indigna-
tion. Between the army of Waldeck and the army of
Humieres no general action took place : but in a suc-
cession of combats the advantage was on the side of the
confederates. Of these combats the most important skinnUh
took place at Walcourt on the fifth of August. The coiut.^
French attacked an outpost defended by the English
brigade, were vigorously repulsed, and were forced to
retreat in confusion, abandoning a few field pieces to
the conquerors and leaving more than six hundred
corpses on the ground. Marlborough, on this as on every
siniilar occasion, acquitted himself like a valiant and
skilftd captain. The Coldstream Guards commanded by
Talmash, and the regiment which is now called the
sixteenth of the line, commanded by Colonel Robert
r F 3
488 HISTOBT OF ENGLAIO).
CHAP. Hodges, distinguished themselves highly. The Boyal
^ ' regiment too, which had a few months before set up the
1689. standard of rebellion at Ipswich, proved on this day that
William, in freely pardoning that great fault, had acted
not less wisely than generously. The testimony which
Waldeck in his despatch bore to the gaUant conduct of
the islanders was read with delight by their countrymen.
The fight indeed was no more than a skirmish : but it
was a sharp and bloody skirmish. There had within
living memory been no equally serious encoimter be-
tween the English and French ; and our ancestors were
naturally elated by finding that many years of inaction
and vassalage did not appear to have enervated the cou-
rage of the nation.*
imputa- The Jacobites however discovered in the events of
thrown on *^^ Campaign abundant matter for invective. Marl-
Mari- borough was, not without reason, the object of their
^^^ bitterest hatred. In his behaviour on a field of battle
malice itself could find little to censure : but there
were other parts of his conduct which presented a
fair mark for obloquy. Avarice is rarely the vice of
a young man : it is rarely the vice of a great man :
but Marlborough was one of the few who have, in the
bloom of youth, loved lucre more than wine or women,
and who have, at the height of greatness, loved lucre
more than power or fame. All the precious gifts
which nature had lavished on him he valued chiefly
for what they would fetch. At twenty he made money
of his beauty and his vigour. At sixty he made money
of his genius and his glory. The applauses which were
justly due to his conduct at Walcourt could not alto-
gether drown the voices of those who muttered that,
wherever a broad piece was to be saved or got, this
hero was a mere Euclio, a mere Harpagon ; that, though
♦ See the despatch of Waldeck First Regiment of Foot ; Dangeau,
in the London Gazette, Aug. 26. Aug. 28. ; Monthly Mercury, Sep-
1689; Historical Records of the tember I689.
WILLIAM AND MART. 439
ho drew a large allowance under pretence of keeping a chap,
public table, he never asked an officer to dinner ; that •^^'
his muster rolls were fraudulently made up ; that he 1689.
pocketed pay in the names of men who had long been
dead, of men who had been killed in his own sight four
years before at Sedgemoor; that there were twenty
such names in one troop ; that there were thirty six in
another. Nothing but the union of dauntless courage
and commanding powers of mind with a bland temper
and winning manners could have enabled him to gain
and keep, in spite of faults eminently unsoldierlike, the
good wiU of his soldiers.*
About the time at which the contending armies in Popeinno-
every part of Europe were going into winter quar- g^e^^
ters, a new Pontiff ascended the chair of Saint Peter. ^^/^V^:,t
Innocent the Eleventh was no more. His fate had
been strange indeed. His conscientious and fervent
attachment to the Church of which he was the head
had induced him, at one of the most critical conjunc-
tures in her history, to ally himself with her mortal
enemies. The news of his decease was received with
concern and alarm by Protestant princes and common-
wealths, and with joy and hope at Versailles and DubUn.
An extraordinary ambassador of high rank was in-
stantly despatched by Lewis to Rome. The French
garrison which had been placed in Avignon was with-
drawn. When the votes of the Conclave had been
united in favour of Peter Ottobuoni, an ancient Cardinal
who assumed the appellation of Alexander the Eighth,
the representative of France assisted at the installation,
bore up the cope of the new Pontiff, and put into the
hands of ffis Holiness a letter in which the most Chris-
tian King declared that he renounced the odious privi-
* See tbe Dear Bargain^ a Jaco- (Marlborough) to mention any other,
bite pamphlet clandestinely printed All are innocent comparatively, even
in 1690. '' I have not patience/' Kirke himself."
aays the writer, ''after this wretch
F F 4
44:0 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, lege of protecting robbers and assassins. Alexander
L pressed ike letter to his lips, embraced the bearer, and
1^9. talked with rapture of the near prospect of reconcilia-
tion. Lewis began to entertain a hope that the influ-
ence of the Vatican might be exerted to dissolve the
alliance between the House of Austria and the heretical
usurper of the English throne. James was even more
sanguine. He was foolish enough to expect that the
new Pope would give him money, and ordered Melfort,
who had now acquitted himself of his mis^n at Ver-
sailles, to hasten to Rome, and beg His Holiness to con-
tribute something towards the good work of upholding
pure religion in the British islands. But it soon ap-
peared that Alexander, though he might hold language
different from that of his predecessor, was determined
to follow in essentials his predecessor's policy. The
original cause of the quarrel between the Holy See and
Lewis was not removed. The King continued to ap-
point prdates : the Pope continued to refuse them in-
stitution ; and the consequence was that a fourth part
of the dioceses of France had bishops who were inca-
pable of performing any episcopal function.*
The High The Ajiglican Church was, at this time, not less dis-
oier^^ tracted than the Gallican Church. The first of August
^videdon jjad bccn fixed by Act of Parliament as the day be-
ofthe*^^ fore the close of which all beneficed clerg)m[ien and
^^^ all persons holding academical offices must, on pain
of suspension, swear allegiance to William and Mary.
During the earlier part of the summer, the Jacobites
hoped that the number of nonjurors would be so con-
siderable as seriously to alarm and embarrass the
Government. But this hope was disappointed. Few
indeed of the clergy were Whigs. Few were Tories of
* See the Mercuries for Septem- fort's Instructions, and his memo-
ber 16S9, and the four follow- rials to the Pope and the Cardinal of
ing months. See also Welwood's £ste^ are among the Naime Papers;
Mercurius Reformatus of Sept. 18. and some extracts have been printed
Sept 25. and Oct. 8. 1689. Mel- by Macpherson.
WILLIAM AND MAEY. 441
that moderate school which acknowledged, reluctantly chap.
and with reserve, that extreme abuses might sometimes ^^^'
justify a nation in resorting to extreme remedies. The 1689.
great majority of the profession still held the doctrine
of passive obedience : but that majority was now di-
vided into two sections. A question, which, before the
Revolution, had been mere matter of speculation, and
had therefore, though sometimes incidentally raised,
been, by most persons, very superficially considered, had
now become practically most important. The doctrine
of passive obedience being taken for granted, to whom
was that obedience due? While the hereditary right
and the possession were conjoined, there was no room
for doubt: but the hereditary right and the possession
were now separated. One prince, raised by the Revo-
lution, was reigning at Westminster, passing laws, ap-
pointing magistrates and prelates, sending forth armies
and fleets. His Judges decided causes. His Sheriflfs
arrested debtors and executed criminals. Justice, or-
der, property, would cease to exist, and society would
be resolved into chaos, but for his Great Seal. Another
prince, deposed by the Revolution, was living abroad.
He could exercise none of the powers and perform
none of the duties of a ruler, and could, as it seemed,
be restored only by means as violent as those by which
he had been displaced. To which of these two princes
did Christian men owe allegiance ?
To a large part of the clergy it appeared that the Arguments
plain letter of Scripture required them to submit to theoau!!?
the Sovereign who was in possession, without trou-
bling themselves about his title. The powers which
the Apostle, in the text most familiar to the Anglican
divines of liiat age, pronoimces to be ordained of God,
are not the powers that can be traced back to a legiti-
mate origin, but the powers that be. When Jesus was
asked whether the chosen people might lawfully give
tribute to Caesar, he replied by asking the questioners,
442 msTOBT OF England.
CHAP, not whetihter CsBsar could make out a pedigree derived
^^' from the old royal house of Judah, but whether the
1689. coin which they scrupled to pay into CsBsar's treasury
came from Caesar's itiint, in other words, whether Cae-
sar actually possessed the authority and performed the
frmctions of a ruler.
It is generally held, with much appearance of rea-
son, that the most trustworthy comment on the text of
the Gospels and Epistles is to be found in the practice
of the primitive Christians, when that practice can be
satis&ctorily ascertained ; and it so happened that the
times during which the Church is universally acknow-
ledged to have been in the highest state of purity were
times of frequent and violent political change. One at
least of the Apostles appears to have lived to see four
Emperors pulled down in little more than a year. Of
the martyrs of the third century a great proportion
must have been able to remember ten or twelve revo-
lutions. Those martyrs must have had occasion often
to consider what was their duty towards a prince just
raised to power by a successful insurrection. That
they were, one and aU, deterred by the fear of punish-
ment from doing what they thought right, is an im-
putation which no candid infidel would throw on them.
Yet, if there be any proposition which can with perfect
confidence be affirmed touching the early Christians,
it is this, that they never once refused obedience to
any actual ruler on account of the illegitimacy of his
title. At one time, indeed, the supreme power was
claimed by twenty or thirty competitors. Every pro-
vince from Britain to Egypt had its own Augustus.
All these pretenders could not be rightful Emperors.
Yet it does not appear that, in any place, the &ith{ul
had any scruple about submitting to the person who, in
that place, exercised the imperial functions. While the
Christian of Rome obeyed Aurelian, the Christian of
Lyons obeyed Tetricus, and the Christian of Palmyra
WILLIAM AND MAKY. 443
obeyed Zenobia. "Day and night," — such were the words chap.
which the great Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage, addressed L
to the representative of Valerian and Gallienus, — " day 1^89.
and night do we Christians pray to the one true God for
the safety of our Emperors." Yet those Emperors had a
few months before pulled down their predecessor -ZEmi-
lianus, who had puUed down his predecessor Gallus,
who had climbed to power on the ruins of the house of
his predecessor Decius, who had slain his predecessor
Philip, who had slain his predecessor Gordian. Was it
possible to believe that a saint, who had, in the short
space of thirteen or fourteen years, borne true allegiance
to this series of rebels and regicides, would have made a
schism in the Christian body rather than acknowledge
King William and Queen Mary? A himdred times
those Anglican divines who had taken the oaths chal-
lenged their more scrupulous brethren to cite a single
instance in which the primitive Church had refused
obedience to a successAil usurper; and a hundred times
the challenge was evaded. The nonjurors had little to
say on this head, except that precedents were of no
force when opposed to principles, a proposition which
came with but a bad grace from a school which had
always professed an ahnost superstitious reverence for
the authority of the Fathers.*
* See the Answer of a Nonjuror mer princes as he snggests, will he
to the Bishop of Sarum's challenge therefore say that their practice is
in the Appendix to the Life of Ket- to he a rule ? Ill things have been
tlewelL Among the Tanner M8S. done^ and very generally abetted^ by
in the Bodleian Library is a paper men of otherwise very orthodox
which^ as Bancroft thought it worth principles." The argument from
preserving, I venture to quote. The the practice of the primitive Chris-
writer^ a strong nonjuror, after try- tians is remarkably well put in a
ing to evade, by many pitiable tract entitled The Doctrine of Non-
shifts, the aigument drawn by a resistance or Passive Obedience No
more compliant divine from the Way concerned in the Controversies
practice of the primitive Church, now depending between the Wil-
proceeds dras : " Suppose the pri- liamites and the Jacobites, by a Lay
mitive Christians all along, ftom the Gentleman, of the Communion of
time of the very Apostles, had been the Church of England, as by Law
•a xcfudkts of their oaths by for- establish'd, I689.
44:4 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. To precedents drawn £pom later and more corrupt
1 times little respect was due. But, even in the history
1^89. of later and more corrupt times, the nonjurors could
not easily find any precedent that would serve their
purpose. In our own country many Kings, who had not
the hereditary right, had filled the throne : but it had
never been thought inconsistent with the duty of a
Christian to be a true liegeman to such Kings. The
usurpation of Henry the Fourth, the more odious
usurpation of Richard the Third, had produced no
schism in the Church. As soon as the usurper was
firm in his seat. Bishops had done homage to him for
their domains: Convocations had presented addresses
to him, and granted him supplies; nor had any casuist
ever pronounced that such submission to a prince in
possession was deadly sin.*
With the practice of the whole Christian world the
authoritative teaching of the Church of England ap-
peared to be in strict harmony. The Homily on WilM
Rebellion, a discourse which inculcates, in unmeasured
terms, the duty of obeying rulers, speaks of none but
actual rulers. Nay, the people are distinctly told in that
Homily that they are bound to obey, not oidy their legi-
timate prince, but any usurper whom God shall in anger
set over them for their sias. And surely it would be
the height of absurdity to say that we must accept sub-
missively such usurpers as God sends in anger, but must
pertinaciously withhold our obedience from usurpers
whom He sends in mercy. Grant that it was a crime to
* One of the most adulatory ad- England. For this representation
dresses ever voted by a Convocation no warrant can be found in Chaucer's
was to Richard the Third. It will Poem^ or any where else. Dryden
be found in Wilkins's Concilia. Dry- wished to write something that would
den^ in bis fine rifacimento of one of gall the clergy who had taken the
the finest passages in the Prologue to oaths^ and therefore attributed to a
the Canterbury Tales, represents the Roman Catholic priest of the four-
Good Parson as choosing to resign his teenth century a superstition which
benefice rather than acknowledge the originated among the Anglican priests
Duke of Lancaster to be King of of the seventeenth century.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 445
invite the Prince of Orange over, a crime to join him, a chap.
crime to make him King ; yet what was the whole his- ^^^'
tory of the Jewish nation and of the Christian Church 1689.
but a record of cases in which Providence had brought
good out of evil ? And what theologian would assert
that, in such cases, we ought, from abhorrence of the
evil, to reject the good ?
On these grounds a large body of divines, still as-
serting the doctrine that to resist the Sovereign must
always be sinful, conceived that William was now the
Sovereign whom it would be sinful to resist.
To these arguments the nonjurors replied that Saint Argument!
Paul must have meant by the powers that be the rightful S^/ng^the
powers that be; and that to put any other interpretation ^^^
on his words would be to outrage common sense, to dis-
honour religion, to give scandal to weak believers, to
give an occasion of triumph to scoffers. The feelings
of all mankind must be shocked by the proposition that,
as soon as a King, however clear his title, however wise
and good his administration, is expelled by traitors, all
his servants are bound to abandon him, and to range
themselves on the side of his enemies. In all ages and
nations, fidelity to a good cause in adversity had been
regarded as a virtue. In aU ages and nations, the poli-
tician whose practice was always to be on the side which
was uppermost had been despised. This new Toryism
was worse than Whiggism. To break through the ties
of allegiance because the Sovereign was a tyrant was
doubtless a very great sin : but it was a sin for which
specious names and pretexts might be found, and into
which a brave and generous man, not instructed in
divine truth and guarded by divine grace, might easily
fall. But to break through the ties of allegiance,
merely because the Sovereign was unfortunate, was
not only wicked, but dirty. Could any unbeliever
offer a greater insult to the Scriptures than by assert-
ing that the Scriptures had enjoined on Chrbtians
446 HISTORY OP ENGLAIO).
CHAP, as a sacred duty what the light of nature had taught
^^ ' heathens to regard as the last excess of baseness? In
1689. the Scriptures was to be found the history of a King of
Israel, cbiven from his palace by an unnatural son, and
compelled to fly beyond Jordan. David, like James,
had the right : Absalom, like William, had the posses*
sion. Would any student of the sacred writings dare
to affirm that the conduct of Shimei on that occasion
was proposed as a pattern to be imitated, and that Bar-
zillai, who loyally adhered to his fugitive master, was
resisting the ordmance of Gt)d, and receiving to himself
danmation? Would any true son of the Church of
England seriously affirm that a man who was a stre-
nuous royalist till after the battle of Naseby, who then
went over to the Parliament, who, as soon as the Parlia-
ment had been purged, became an obsequious servant
of the Rump, and who, as soon as the Rump had been
ejected, professed himself a faithftd subject of the Pro-
tector, was more deserving of the respect of Christian
men than the stout old Cavalier who bore true fealty to
Charles the First in prison and to Charles the Second
in exile, and who was ready to put lands, liberty, life,
in peril, rather than acknowledge, by word or act, the
authority of any of the upstart governments which,
during that evil time, obtained possession of a power
not legitimately theirs? And what distinction was
there between that case and the case which had now
arisen? That Cromwell had actually enjoyed as much
power as William, nay much more power than William,
was quite certain. That the power of William, as well
as the power of Cromwell, had an illegitimate origin, no
divine who held the doctrine of nonresistance would
dispute. How then was it possible for such a divine
to deny that obedience had been due to Cromwell, and
yet to affirm that it was due to William? To suppose
that there could be such inconsistency without dis-
honesty would be not charity but weakness. Those
WILLIAM AND MABY. 447
"who were determined to comply with the Act of Parlia- chap.
ment would do better to speak out, and to say, what ^^'
every body knew, that they complied simply to save i689.
their benefices. The motive was no doubt strong.
That a clergyman who was a husband and a father
should look forward with dread to the first of August
and the first of February was natural. But he would
do well to remember that, however terrible might be
the day of suspension and the day of deprivation, there
would assuredly come two other days more terrible still,
the day of death and the day of judgment.*
The swearing clergy, as they were called, were not
a little perplexed by this reasoning. Nothing embar-
rassed them more than the analogy which the nonjurors
were never weary of pointing out between the usurpa-
tion of Cromwell and the usurpation of William. For
there was in that age no High Churchman who would
not have thought himself reduced to an absurdity if he
had been reduced to the necessity of saying that the
Church had commanded her sons to obey Cromwell.
And yet it was impossible to prove that William was
more fiilly in possession of supreme power than Crom-
well had been. The swearers therefore avoided coming
to close quarters with the nonjurors on this point as
careftdly as the nonjurors avoided coining to close
quarters with the swearers on the question touching
thfi practice of the primitive Church.
The truth is that the theory of government which
had long been taught by the clergy was so absurd that
it could lead to nothing but absurdity. Whether the
priest who adhered to that theory swore or refused
to swear, he was alike unable to give a rational expla-
nation of his conduct. K he swore, he could vindicate
his swearing only by laying down propositions against
* See the defence of the profession Chichester^ made upon his deathbed
which the Right Reverend Father concerning passive obedience and
in God John Lake, Lord Bishop of the new oaths. I69O.
448 rasTORY OP England.
CHAP, whicli every honest heart instinctively revolts, only by
^^^' proclaiming that Christ had commanded the Church to
16*89. desert the righteous cause as soon as that cause ceased
to prosper, and to strengthen the hands of successfiil
villany against afflicted virtue. And yet, strong as
were the objections to this doctrine, the objections to
the doctrine of the nonjuror were, if possible, stronger
still. According to him, a Christian nation ought
always to be in a state of slavery or in a state of
anarchy. Something is to be said for the man who
sacrifices liberty to preserve order. Something is to
be said for the man who sacrifices order to preserve
liberty. For liberty and order are two of the greatest
blessings which a society can enjoy : and, when unfor-
tunately they appear to be incompatible, much indul-
gence is due to those who take either side. But the
nonjuror sacrificed, not liberty to order, not order to
liberty, but both liberty and order to a superstition as
stupid and degrading as the Egyptian worship of cats
and onions. While a particular person, differing from
other persons by the mere accident of birth, was on
the throne, though he might be a Nero, there was to be
no insubordination. When any other person was on
the throne, though he might be an Alfred, there was
to be no obedience. It mattered not how frantic and
wicked might be the administration of the dynasty
which had the hereditary title, or how wise and vir-
tuous might be the administration of a government
sprung from a revolution. Nor could any time of li-
mitation be pleaded against the claim of the expelled
family. The lapse of years, the lapse of ages, made no
change. To the end of the world. Christians were to
regulate their political conduct simply according to the
genealogy of their ruler. The year 1800, the year
1900, might find princes who derived their title from
the votes of the Convention reigning in peace and pro-
sperity. No matter : they would still be usurpers; and,
WILLIAM AND MARY. 449
if, in the twentieth or twenty first century, any person chap.
who could make out a better right by blood to the crown 1
should call on a late posterity to acknowledge him as ^6^9-
King, the call must be obeyed on peril of eternal per-
dition.
A Whig might well enjoy the thought that the con-
troversies which had arisen among his adversaries had
established the soundness of his own political creed.
The disputants who had long agreed in accusing him
of an impious error had now efiectually vindicated him,
and refuted one another. The High Churchman who
took the oaths had shown by irrefragable arguments
from the Gospels and the Epistles, from the uniform
practice of the primitive Church, and from the explicit
declarations of the Anglican Church, that Christians
were not in all cases bound to pay obedience to the
prince who had the hereditary title. The High Church-
man who would not take the oaths had shown as
satisfactorily that Christians were not in all cases
bound to pay obedience to the prince who was actu-
ally reigning. It followed that, to entitle a govern-
ment * to the allegiance of subjects, something was
necessary different from mere legitimacy, and different
also from mere possession. What that something was
the Whigs had no difficulty in pronouncing. In their
view, the end for which all governments had been
instituted wa* the happiness of society. While the
magistrate was, on the whole, notwithstanding some
faults, a minister for good. Reason taught mankind to
obey him ; and Religion, giving her solemn sanction to
the teaching of Reason, commanded mankind to revere
him as divinely commissioned. But if he proved to be
a minister for evil, on what grounds was he to be con-
sidered as divinely commissioned? The Tories who
swore had proved that he ought not to be so considered
on account of the origin of his power : the Tories who
wuold not swear had proved as clearly that he ought
VOL. III. G G
450 HISTOBY OF ENGLAliD.
CHAP, not to be SO considered on account of the existence of
^II his power.
1689. Some violent and acrimonious Whigs triumphed
ostentatiously and with merciless insolence over the
perplexed and divided priesthood. The nonjuror they
generally affected to regard with contemptuous pity as
a dull and perverse, but sincere, bigot, whose absurd
practice was in harmony with his absurd theory, and
who might plead, in excuse for the infatuation which
impelled him to ruin his country, that the same in-
fatuation had impelled him to ruin himself. They
reserved their sharpest taunts for those divines who,
having, in the days of the Exclusion BUI and the Rye
House Plot, been distinguished by zeal for the divine
and indefeasible right of the hereditary Sovereign, were
now ready to swear fealty to an usurper. Was this
then the real sense of all those sublime phrases which
had resounded during twenty nine years from innu-
merable pulpits? Had the thousands of clerg3nnen,
who had so loudly boasted of the unchangeable loyalty
of their order, really meant only that their loyalty
would remain unchangeable till the next change ot
fortune? It was idle, it was impudent in them to
pretend that their present conduct was consistent with
their former language. If any Reverend Doctor had
at length been convinced that he had been in the wrong,
he surely ought, by an open recantation, to make all the
amends now possible to the persecuted, the calumniated,
the murdered defenders of liberty. If he was still con-
vinced that his old opinions were sound, he ought man-
fully to cast in his lot with the nonjurors. Respect,
it was said, is due to him who ingenuously confesses
an error; respect is due to him who courageously suf-
fers for an error; but it is difficult to respect a mi-
nister of religion who, while asserting that he still
adheres to the principles of the Tories, saves his bene-
fice by taking an oath which can be honestly taken
only on the principles of the Whigs.
WILLIAM AND BiABY. 451
These reproaches, though perhaps not altogether un- chap.
just, were unseasonable. The wiser and more moderate ^^ '
Whigs, sensible that the throne of William could not 1689.
stand firm if it had not a wider basis than their own
party, abstained at this conjuncture from sneers and
invectives, and exerted themselves to remove the scru-
ples and to soothe the irritated feelings of the clergy.
The collective power of the rectors and vicars of Eng-
land was immense : and it was much better that they
should swear for the most flimsy reason that could he
devised by a sophist than they should not swear at all.
It soon became clear that the arguments for swearing, a great
backed as they were by some of the strongest motives S^^dCTgy ^
which can influence the human mind, had prevailed, take the
Above twenty nine thirtieths of the profession submitted
to the law. Most of the divines of the capital, who then
formed a separate class, and who were as much distin-
guished fix)m the rural clergy by liberality of sentiment
as by eloquence and learning, gave in their adhesion
to the government early, and with every sign of cordial
attachment. Eighty of them repaired together, in full
term, to Westminster Hall, and were there sworn. The
ceremony occupied so long a time that little else was
done that day in the Courts of Chancery and King's
Bench.* But in general the compliance was tardy,
sad and sullen. Many, no doubt, deliberately sacrificed
principle to interest. Conscience told them that they
were committing a sin. But they had not fortitude to
resign the parsonage, the garden, the glebe, and to go
forth without knowing where to find a meal or a roof
for themselves and their little ones. Many swore with
doubts and misgivings.f Some declared, at the moment
* London Gazette, June SO. 7^; the retractation drawn by him
1689; Narciasus Luttrell'a Diary, for a clergyman who had Uken the
<' The eminenteat men, " aaya oaths^ and who afterwarda repented
LuttreU. of having done ao.
f See in Kettlewell'a Life, iii.
QQ 2
45? HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, of taking the oath, that they did not mean to promise
^^^' that they would not submit to James, if he should ever
1689. be in a condition to demand their allegiance. * Some
clergymen in the north were, on the first of August^
going in a company to swear, when they were met on
the road by the news of the battle which had been
fought, four days before, in the pass of Ealliecrankie.
They immediately turned back, and did not again leave
their homes on the same errand till it was clear that
Dimdee's victory had made no change in the state of
public affairs.f Even of those whose understandings
were fully convinced that obedience was due to the ex-
isting government, very few kissed the book with the
heartiness with which they had formerly plighted their
faith to Charles and James. Still the thing was done.
Ten thousand clergymen had solemnly called heaven to
attest their promise that they would be true liegemen
to William ; and this promise, though it by no means
warranted him in expecting that they would strenuously
support him, had at least deprived them of a great part
of their power to injure him. They could not, without
entirely forfeiting that public respect on which their
influence depended, attack, except in an indirect and
timidly cautious manner, the throne of one whom they
had, in the presence of God, vowed to obey as their
King. Some of them, it is true, affected to read the
prayers for the new Sovereigns in a peculiar tone which
could not be misunderstood. J Others were guilty of
still grosser indecency. Thus, one wretch, just after
prayingfor William and Mary in the most solemn of-
fice of religion, took off a glass to their damnation.
Another, after performing divine service on a fast day
appointed by their authority, dined on a pigeon pie,
♦ See the account of Dr. Dove^i f The Anatomy of a Jacobite
conduct in Clarendon's Diary, and Tory, I69O.
the account of Dr. Marsh's conduct J Dialogue between a Whig and
in the Life of Kettlcwell. a Tory.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 453
and while he cut it up, uttered a wish that it was the chap.
usurper's heart. But such audacious wickedness was L
doubtless rare and was rather injurious to the Church 1^*89.
than to the government.*
Those clergymen and members of the Universities Jhenon-
who incurred the penalties of the law were about four ^^^^
hundred in number. Foremost in rank stood the Pri-
mate and six of his suffragans, Turner of Ely, Lloyd of
Norwich, Frampton of Gloucester, Lake of Chichester,
White of Peterborough, and Ken of Bath and Wells.
Thomas of Worcester would have made a seventh:
but he died three weeks before the day of suspension.
On his deathbed he adjured his clergy to be true to
the cause of hereditary right, and declared that those
divines who tried to make out that the oaths might be
taken without any departure from the loyal doctrines
of the Church of England seemed to him to reason
more Jesuitically than the Jesuits themselves.f
Ken, who, both in intellectual and in moral qualities. Ken.
ranked highest among the nonjuring prelates, hesitated
long. There were few clergymen who could have sub-
mitted to the. new government with a better grace.
For, in the times when nonresistance and passive obe-
dience were the favourite themes of his brethren, he
had scarcely ever alluded to politics in the pulpit. He
owned that the arguments in favour of swearing were
very strong. He went indeed so far as to say that his
scruples would be completely removed if he could be
convinced that James had entered into engagements for
ceding Ireland to the French King. It is evident there-
fore that the difference between Ken and the Whigs was
not a difference of principle. He thought, with them,
that misgovemment, carried to a certain point, justified
a transfer of allegiance, and doubted only whether the
misgovemment of James had been carried quite to that
* Nardssns LuttreirB Diary, f ^^^^ ^^ Kettlewell^ iii. 4.
Nor. 1691, Feb. 1692.
G o 3
454 HISTOBY OF BNGLA5D.
CHAP, point. Nay, the good Bishop actually began to prepare
^^^' a pastoral letter explaining his reasons for taking the
1689. oaths. But, before it was finished, he received inform-
ation which convinced him that Ireland had not been
made over to France : doubts came thick upon him : he
threw his unfinished letter into the fire, and implored
his less scrupulous friends not to urge him further. He
was sure, he said, that they had acted uprightly : he
was glad that they could do with a clear conscience
what he shrank from doing : he felt the force of their
reasoning : he was all but persuaded; and he was afraid
to listen longer lest he should be quite persuaded : for,
if he should comply, and his mis^vings should after-
wards return, he should be the most miserable of men.
Not for wealth, not for a palace, not for a peerage,
would he run the smallest risk of ever feeling the tor-
ments of remorse. It is a curious fact that, of the
seven nonjuring prelates, the only one whose name
carries with it much weight was on the point of swear-
ing, and was prevented from doing so, as he himself
acknowledged, not by the force of reason, but by a
morbid scrupulosity which he did not adyise others to
imitate.*
• See Turner'g Letter to Sancroft, asked his advice to their own itadies
dated on Ascension Day^ I689. The and prayers. Lady Russell's i
original is among the Tanner MSS. in tion and Ken*8 denial will be found
the Bodleian Library. But the letter to come nearly to the same thing,
will be found with much other curl- when we make those allowances
ous matter in the Life of Ken by a which ought to be made for situ-
Layman, lately published. See also ation and feeling, even in weighing
the Life of Kettlewell, iii. g5. ; the testimony of the most veracious
and Ken*s letter to Burnet^ dated witnesses. Ken, having at last de-
Oct. 5. 1689) in Hawkins's Life of termined to cast in his lot with the
Ken. " I am sure," Lady Russell nonjurors, naturally tried to vindi-
wrote to Dr. Fitzwilliam, '' the cate his consistency as far as he
Bishop of Bath and Wells excited honestly could. Lady Russell, wish-
others to comply, when he could ing to induce her friend to take the
not bring himself to do so, but re- oaths, naturally made as much of
joiced when others did." Ken de- Ken's disposition to compliance as
clared that he had advised nobody she honestly could. She went too
to take the oaths, and that his prac- far in using the word " excited."
tice had been to remit those who On the other hand, it it dear that
WILLIAM AND MABY.
455
Among the priests who refused the oaths were some chap.
men eminent in the learned worid, as grammarians, ^ ^V
chronologists, canonists, and antiquaries, and a very 16®9-
few who were distinguished by wit and eloquence : but
scarcely one can be named who was qualified to discuss
any large question of morals or politics, scarcely one
whose writings do not indicate either extreme feebleness
or extreme flightiness of mind. Those who distrust the
judgment of a Whig on this point will probably allow
some weight to the opinion which was expressed, many
years after the Revolution, by a philosopher of whom
the Tories are justly proud. Johnson, after passing in
review the celebrated divines who had thought it sinful
to swear allegiance to William the Third and George
the First, pronounced that, in the whole body of non-
jurors, there was one, and one only, who could reason.*
The nonjuror in whose favour Johnson made this Leslie,
exception was Charles Leslie. Leslie had, before the
Ken, by remitting those who con-
sulted him to their own studies and
prayers, gare them to understand
that, in his opinion, the oath was
lawful to those who, after a serious
inquiry, thought it lawful. If people
had asked him whether they might
lawfully commit perjury or adultery,
he would assuredly have told them,
not to conaider the point maturely
and to implore the divine direc-
tion, hut to abstain on peril of their
souls.
* See the conversation of June 9*
1784, in Boawell's Life of Johnson,
and the note. Boswell, with his
usual absurdity, is sure that John-
•on could not have recollected '' that
the seven bishops, so justly cele-
brated for their magnanimous le-
aistance to arbitrary power, were yet
nonjurors." Only five of the seven
were nonjurors; and anybody but
Boswell would have known that a
man mayretisi arbitrary power, and
yet not be a good reasoner. Nay,
the resistance which Sancroft and
the other nonjuring bishops offered
to arbitrary power, while they con-
tinued to hold the doctrine of non-
resistance, is the most decisive proof
that they were incapable of reason-
ing. It must be remembered that
they were prepared to take the whole
kingly power from James and to
bestow it on William, with the ti-
tle of Regent Their scruple was
merely about the word King.
I am surprised that Johnson
should have pronounced William
Law no reasoner. Law did indeed
fall into great errors ; but they were
errors against which logic affords no
security. In mere dialectical skill
he had very few superiors. That
he was more than once victorious
over Hoadley no candid Wliig will
deny. But Law did not belong to
the generation with which I have
now to do.
G G 4
466 HISTORY OF ENGLAJm.
CHAP. Revolution, been Chancellor of the diocese of Connor
L in Ireland. He had been forward in opposition to
1689. Tyrconnel ; had, as a justice of the peace for Monaghan,
refused to acknowledge a papist as Sheriff of that
county ; and had been so courageous as to send some
officers of the Irish army to prison for marauding.
But the doctrine of nonresistance, such as it had been
taught by Anglican divines in the days of the Rye
House Plot, was immovably fixed in his mind. When
the state of Ulster became such that a Protestant
who remained there could hardly avoid being either a
rebel or a martyr, Leslie fled to London. His abilities
and his connections were such that he might easily
have obtained high preferment in the Church of Eng-
land. But he took his place in the front rank of the
Jacobite body, and remained there stedfastly, through
all the dangers and vicissitudes of three and thirty
troubled years. Though constantly engaged in theolo-
gical controversy with Deists, Jews, Socinians, Presby-
terians, Papists, and Quakers, he found time to be one
of the most voluminous political writers of his age.
Of all the nonjuring clergy he was the best qualified to
discuss constitutional questions. For, before he had
taken orders, he had resided long in the Temple, and
had been studying English history and law, while most
of the other chiefs of the schism had been poring over
the Acts of Chalcedon, or seeking for wisdom in the
Targum of Onkelos.*
Sherlock. In 1689, howcver, Leslie was almost unknown in
England. Among the divines who incurred suspension
on the first of August in that year, the highest in popular
estimation was without dispute Doctor William Sherlock.
Perhaps no simple presbyter of the Church of England
has ever possessed a greater authority over his brethren
than belonged to Sherlock at the time of the Revolution.
He was not of the first rank among his contemporaries
• Ware's History of the Writers of Ireland^ continued by Harris.
WILLIAM AND MAEY. 457
as a scholar, as a preacher, as a writer on theology, or chap.
as a writer on politics : but in all the four characters ^ '
he had distinguished himself. The perspicuity and 1689,
liveliness of his style have been praised by Prior and
Addison. The facility and assiduity with which he
wrote are sufficiently proved by the bulk and the dates
of his works. There were indeed among the clergy
men of brighter genius and men of wider attainments :
but during a long period there was none who more
completely represented the order, none who, on all
subjects, spoke more precisely the sense of the Anglican
priesthood, without any taint of Latitudinarianism, of
Puritanism, or of Popery. He had, in the days of the
Exclusion Bill, when the power of the dissenters was
very great in Parliament and in the country, written
strongly against the sin of nonconformity. When the
Rye House Plot was detected, he had zealously defended
by tongue and pen the doctrine of nonresistance. His
services to the cause of episcopacy and monarchy were
so highly valued that he was made master of the Temple.
A pension was also bestowed on him by Charles : but
that pension James soon took away; for Sherlock,
though he held himself bound to pay passive obedi-
ence to the civil power, held himself equally bound to
combat religious errors, and was the keenest and most
laborious of that host of controversialists who, in the
day of peril, manfully defended the Protestant faith.
In little more than two years he published sixteen
treatises, some of them large books, against the high
pretensions of Rome. Not content with the easy vic-
tories which he gained over such feeble antagonists
as those who were quartered at Clerkenwell and the
Savoy, he had the courage to measure his strength with
no less a champion than Bossuet, and came out of the
conflict without discredit. Nevertheless Sherlock still
continued to maintain that no oppression could justify
Christians in resisting the kingly authority. When
458 mSTOBY OF englaitd.
CHAP, the Convention was about to meet, he strongly re-
L commended, in a tract which was considered as the
1689. manifesto of a large part ef the clergy, that James
should be invited to return on such conditions as might
secure the laws and religion of the nation.* The vote
which placed William and Mary on the throne filled
Sherlock with sorrow and anger. He is said to have
exclaimed that if the Convention was determined on
a revolution, the clergy would find forty thousand
good Churchmen to efiect a restoration.f Against the
new oaths he gave his opinion plainly and warmly.
He declared himself at a loss to understand how any
honest man could doubt that, by the powers that be,
Saint Paul meant legitimate powers and no others.
No name was in 1689 cited by the Jacobites so proudly
and fondly as that of Sherlock. Before the end of
1690 that name excited very different feelings.
Hickes. A few Other nonjurors ought to be particularly no-
ticed. High among them in rank was George Hickes,
Dean of Worcester. Of all the Englishmen of his time
he was the most versed in the old Teutonic languages ;
and his knowledge of the early Christian literature was
extensive. As to his capacity for political discussions,
it may be sufficient to say that his favourite argu-
ment for passive obedience was drawn from the story
of the Theban legion. He was the younger brother
of that unfortunate John Hickes who had been found
hidden in the malthouse of Alice Lisle. James had,
in spite of all solicitation, put both John Hickes and
Alice Lisle to death. Persons who did not know the
strength of the Dean's principles thought that he
might possibly feel some resentment on this account :
for he was of no gentle or forgiving temper, and could
retain during many years a bitter remembrance of small
* Letter to a member of the Con- nix Edition of Burnet's Pastoral
vcntion, 1689- Letter, I692.
f Johnson's Notes on the Phoe-
WILLIAM AND ACABT. 459
injuries. But he was strong in his religious and po- chap.
litical faith : he reflected that the suflferers were dis- ^^^'
scnters; and he submitted to the will of the Lord's 1689.
Anointed not only with patience but with complacency.
He became indeed a more loving subject than ever from
the time when his brother was hanged and his brother's
benefactress beheaded. While almost all other clergy-
men, appalled by the Declaration of Indulgence and by
the proceedings of the High Commission, were begin-
ning to think that they had pushed the doctrine of
nonresistance a little too far, he was writing a vindica-
tion of his dariing legend, and trying to convince the
troops at Hounslow that, if James should be pleased to
massacre them all, as Maximian had massacred the
Theban legion, for refusing to commit idolatry, it would
be their duty to pile their arms, and meekly to receive
the crown of martyrdom. To do Hickes justice, his
whole conduct after the Revolution proved that his
servility had sprung neither from fear nor from cu-
pidity, but from mere bigotry.*
Jeremy Collier, who was turned out of the preacher- Coiiier.
ship of the Rolls, was a man of a much higher order.
He is well entitled to grateful and respectfid mention :
for to his eloquence and courage is to be chiefly ascribed
the purification of our lighter literature from that foul
taint which had been contracted during the Antipuritan
reaction. He was, in the full force of the words, a good
man. He was also a man of eminent abilities, a great
master of sarcasm, a great master of rhetoric.f His
• The be§t notion of Hickes's t Collier's Tracte on the Stage
character wDl be formed from his are, on the whole, his best pieces,
numerous controversial writings, But there is much that is striking
particularly his Jovian, written in in his political pamphlets. His
1684, hisThebcan Legion no Fable, *' Persuasive to Consideration, ten-
written in 16'879 though not pub- dered to the Royalists, particularly
lished till 1714, and his discourses those of the Church of England,"
upon Dr. Bomet and Dr. Tillotson, seems to me one of the best produc-
1695 His literary fame rests on tions of the Jacobite press,
works of a very different kind.
460 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, reading too, though undigested, was of immense extent.
1 But his mind was narrow : his reasoning, even when he
1689. -^as so fortunate as to have a good cause to defend, was
singularly futile and inconclusive; and his brain was
almost turned by pride, not personal, but professional
In his view, a priest was the highest of human beings,
except a bishop. Reverence and submission were due
from the best and greatest of the laity to the least re-
spectable of the clergy. However ridiculous a man in
holy orders might make himself, it was impiety to laugh
at him. So nervously sensitive indeed was Collier on
this point that he thought it profane to throw any re-
flection even on the ministers of false religions. He laid
it down as a rule that Muftis and Augurs ought always
to be mentioned with respect. He blamed Dryden for
sneering at the Hierophants of Apis. He praised Racine
for giving dignity to the character of a priest of Baal.
He praised Comeille for not bringing that learned and
reverend divine Tiresias on the stage in the tragedy of
(Edipus. The omission, Collier owned, spoiled the dra-
matic effect of the piece : but the holy function was much
too solemn to be played with. Nay, incredible as it
may seem, he thought it improper in the laity to sneer
at Presbyterian preachers. Indeed his Jacobitism was
little more than one of the forms in which his zeal for
the dignity of his profession manifested itself. He ab-
horred the Revolution less as a rising up of subjects
against their King than as a rising up of the laity
against the sacerdotal caste. The doctrines which had
been proclaimed from the pulpit during thirty y«ars
had been treated with contempt by the Convention. A
new government had been set up in opposition to the
wishes of the spiritual peers in the House of Lords and
of the priesthood throughout the country. A secular
assembly had taken upon itself to pass a law requiring
archbishops and bishops, rectors and vicars, to abjure,
on pain of deprivation, what they had been teaching all
WILLIAM AND MABY, 461
their lives. Whatever meaner spirits might do, Collier 9^^^*
was determined not to be led in triumph by the victo- L
rious enemies of his order. To the last he would con- 1^®9'
front, with the authoritative port of an ambassador of
heaven, the anger of the powers and principalities of the
earth.
In parts Collier was the first man among the nonjurors. Dodweii.
In erudition the first place must be assigned to Henry
Dodwell, who, for the unpardonable crime of having a
small estate in Mayo, had been attainted by the Popish
Parliament at Dublin. He was Camdenian Professor
of Ancient History in the University of Oxford, and had
already acquired considerable celebrity by chronological
and geographical researches : but, though he never could
be persuaded to take orders, theology was his favourite
study. He was doubtless a pious and sincere man. He
had perused innumerable volumes in various languages,
and had indeed acquired more learning than his slender
faculties were able to bear. The small intellectual spark
which he possessed was put out by the fuel. Some of
his books seem to have been written in a madhouse,
and, though filled with proofs of his immense reading,
degrade him to the level of James Naylor and Ludo-
wick Muggleton. He began a dissertation intended
to prove that the law of nations was a divine revela-
tion made to the family which was preserved in the
ark. He published a treatise in which he maintained
that a marriage between a member of the Church of
England and a dissenter was a nullity, and that the
couple were, in the sight of heaven, guilty of adultery.
He defended the use of instrumental music in public
worship on the ground that the notes of the organ had
a power to counteract the influence of devils on the
spinal marrow of human beings. In his treatise on this
subject, he remarked that there was high authority
for the opinion that the spinal marrow, when decom-
posed, became a serpent Whether this opinion were
462
mSTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP.
XIV.
1689.
or were not correct, he thought it unnecessary to decide.
Perhaps, he said, the eminent men in whose works it
was found had meant only to express figuratively the
great truth, that the Old Serpent operates on us chiefly
through the spinal marrow.* Dodwell's speculations on
the state of human beings after death are, if possible,
more extraordinary still. He tells us that our souls are
naturally mortal. Annihilation is the fate of the greater
part of mankind, of heathens, of Mahometans, of un-
christened babes. The gift of immortality is conveyed
in the sacrament of baptism : but to the efficacy of the
sacrament it is absolutely necessary that the water be
poured and the words pronounced by a priest who has
been ordained by a bishop. In the natural course of
things, therefore, all Presbyterians, Independents, Bap-
tists, and Quakers would, like the inferior animals, cease
to exist. But Dodwell was far too good a churchman
to let off dissenters so easily. He informs them that,
as they have had an opportunity of hearing the gospel
preached, and might, but for their own perverseness,
have received episcopalian baptism, God will, by an ex-
traordinary act of power, bestow immortality on them
in order that they may be tormented for ever and
ever.f
• See Brokesby's Life of Dodwell.
The Discourse against Marriages
in different Communions is known
to me, I ought to say, only from
Brokesby's copious abstract. That
Discourse is very rare. It was ori-
ginally printed as a preface to a
sermon preached by Leslie. When
Leslie collected his works he omitted
the discourse, probably because he
was ashamed of it. The Treatise
on the Lawfulness of Instrumental
Music I have read ; and incredibly
absurd it is.
t Dodwell tells us tliat the title
of the work in which he first pro-
mulgated this theory was framed
with great care and precision. I
will therefore transcribe the title-
page. *'An Epistolary Discourse
proving from Scripture and the First
Fathers that the Soul is naturally
Mortal, but Immortalized actually by
the Pleasure of God to Punishment
or to Reward, by its Union with the
Divine Baptismal Spirit, wherein is
proved that none have the Power of
giving this Divine Immortalizing
Spirit since the Apostles but only
the Bishops. By H. Dodwell." Dr.
Clarke, in a Letter to Dodwell
(1706), says that this Epistolary
WILLIAM. AND MAB7. 463
No man abhorred the growing latitudinarianism of chap.
those tunes more than Dodwell. Yet no man had 1
more reason to rejoice in it. For, in the earlier part of ^^^9*
the seventeenth century, a speculator who had dared to
affirm that the human soul is by its nature mortal, and
does, in the great majority of cases, actually die Avith
the body, would have been burned alive in Smithfield.
Even in days which Dodwell could well remember, such
heretics as himself would have been thought fortunate
if they escaped with life, their backs flayed, their ears
clipped, their noses slit, their tongues bored through
with red hot iron, and their eyes knocked out with brick-
bats. With the nonjurors, however, the author of this
theory was still the great Mr. Dodwell; and some, who
thought it culpable lenity to tolerate a Presbyterian
meeting, thought it at the same time gross illiberality
to blame a learned and pious Jacobite for denying a
doctrine so utterly unimportant in a religious point of
view as that of the immortality of the soul.*
Two other nonjurors deserve special mention, less on KetUeweii.
account of their abilities and learning, than on accoimt ]j^^'
of their rare integrity, and of their not less rare candour.
These were John Kettlewell, Rector of Coleshill, and
John Fitzwilliam, Canon of Windsor. It is remarkable
that both these men had seen much of Lord Russell, and
that both, though differing from him in political opinions,
and strongly disapproving the part which he had taken
in the Whig plot, had thought highly of his character,
and had been sincere mourners for his death. He had
sent to Kettlewell an affectionate message from the
scaffold in Lincoln's Lm Fields. Lady Russell, to her
latest day, loved, trusted, and revered Fitzwilliam, who,
when she was a girl, had been the friend of her father,
the virtuous Southampton. The two clergymen agreed
Discoune it " a book at which aU * See Leslie's Rehearsals, No.
good men are sorry, and all profane 286, 287*
men rcgoioe."
464
HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP.
XIV.
1689.
General
character
of the non<
juring
clei^y.
in refusing to swear : but they, from that moment, took
different paths. Kettlewell was one of the most active
members of his party : he declined no drudgery in the
common cause, provided only that it were such drudgery
as did not misbecome an honest man ; and he defended
his opinions in several tracts, which give a much higher
notion of his sincerity than of his judgment or acute-
ness.* Fitzwilliam thought that he had done enough
in quitting his pleasant dwelling and garden under the
shadow of Saint George's Chapel, and in betaking him-
self with his books to a small lodging in an attic. He
could not with a safe conscience acknowledge William
and Mary : but he did not conceive that he was bound
to be always stirring up sedition against them ; and he
passed the last years of his life, under the powerful
protection of the House of Bedford, in innocent and
studious repose.f
Among the less distinguished divines who forfeited
their benefices, were doubtless many good men : but it
is certain that the moral character of the nonjurors, as
a class, did not stand high. It seems hard to impute
laxity of principle to persons who undoubtedly made a
great sacrifice to principle. And yet experience abun-
dantly proves that many who are capable of making a
great sacrifice, when their blood is heated by conflict,
and when the public eye is fixed upon them, are not
capable of persevering long in the daily practice of
obscure virtues. It is by no means improbable that
zealots may have given their lives for a religion which
had never effectually restrained their vindictive or their
licentious passions. We learn indeed from fathers of
* See his works^ and the highly
curious life of him which was com-
piled from the papers of his friends
Hickes and Nelson.
f See Fitzwilliam^s correspon-
dence with Lady Russell, and his evi-
dence on the trial of Ashton, in the
State Trials. The only work which
Fitzwilliam^ as far as I have been
able to discover, ever published wis
a sermon on the Rye House Plot,
preached a few weeks after Russeirs
execution. There are some sentences
in this sermon which I a little won-
der that the widow and the family
forgave.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 465
the highest authority that, even in the purest ages of chap.
the Church, some confessors, who had manfully refused ^^^'
to save themselves from torments and death by throw- i^^P-
ing frankincense on the altar of Jupiter, afterwards
brought scandal on the Christian name by gross fraud
and debauchery.* For the nonjuring divines great
allowance must in fairness be made. They were doubt-
less in a most trying situation. In general, a schism,
which divides a religious community, divides the laity
as well as the clergy. The seceding pastors therefore
carry with them a large part of their flocks, and are
consequently assured of a maintenance. But the schism
of 1689 scarcely extended beyond the clergy. The law
required the rector to take the oaths, or to quit his liv-
ing : but no oath, no acknowledgment of the title of the
new King and Queen, was required from the parishioner
as a qualification for attending divine service, or for
receiving the Eucharist. Not one in fifty, therefore, of
those laymen who disapproved of the Revolution thought
himself bound to quit his pew in the old church, where
the old liturgy was still read, and where the old vest-
ments were still worn, and to follow the ejected priest
to a conventicle, a conventicle, too, which was not pro-
tected by the Toleration Act. Thus the new sect was
a sect of preachers without hearers ; and such preachers
could not make a livelihood by preaching. In Lon-
don, indeed, and in some other large towns, those ve-
hement Jacobites, whom nothing would satisfy but to
* Cyprian, in one of his Epistles, stronger language in the hook de
addresses the confessors thus : ^'Quos- Unitate Ecclesis : '' Neque enim
dam audio inficere numerum ves- confessio immunem facit ah insidiis
truni, et laudem precipui nominis diaholi, aut contra tentationes et
prava sua conversatione destruere. . . pericula et incursus atque impe-
Cum quanto nominis yestri pudore tus ssculares adhuc in scculo po-
delinquitur quando alius aliquis te- situm perpetua securitate defendit ;
mulentus et laaciTiens demoratur; csterum nunquam in confessoribus
alios in earn patriam unde extorris fraudes et stupra et adulteria post-
eat regreditur, ut deprehensus non modum videremus, qus nunc in
jam quasi Christianus, sed quasi quibusdam videntes ingemiscimus et
nocens pereau" He uses still dolemus."
VOL. m. H II
466 HISTOJRY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, hear King James and the Prince of Wales prayed
L for by name, were sufficiently numerous to make up a
1689. few small congregations, which met secretly, and under
constant fear of the constables, in rooms so mean that
the meeting houses of the Puritan dissenters might by
comparison be called palaces. Even Collier, who had
all the qualities which attract large audiences, was
reduced to be the minister of a little knot of malecon-
tents, whose oratory was on a second floor in the city.
But the nonjuring clergymen who were able to ob-
tain even a pittance by officiating at such places were
very few. Of the rest some had independent means :
some lived by literature : one or two practised physic.
Thomas Wagstaffe, for example, who had been Chan-
cellor of Lichfield, had many patients, and made himself
conspicuous by always visiting them in ftdl canonicals.*
But these were exceptions. Industrious poverty is a
state by no means unfavourable to virtue : but it is
dangerous to be at once poor and idle ; and most of the
clergymen who had refused to swear found themselves
thrown on the world with nothing to eat and with
nothing to do. They naturally became beggars and
loungers. Considering themselves as martyrs suffering
in a public cause, they were not ashamed to ask any good
churchman for a guinea. Most of them passed their
lives in running about from one Tory coffi^ehouse to
another, abusing the Dutch, hearing and spreading re-
ports that within a month His Majesty would certainly
be on English ground, and wondering who would have
Salisbury when Burnet was hanged. During the ses-
sion of Parliament the lobbies and the Court of Re-
quests were crowded with deprived parsons, asking
who was up, and what the numbers were on the last
division. Many of the ejected divines became domes-
* Much curious information about first volume of Nicholses Literary
the nonjurors will be found in the Anecdotes of the eighteenth century.
Biographical Memoirs of William A specimen of Wagstaffe's prescript
Bowyer, printer, which forms the tions is in the Bodleian Library.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 467
ticatcd, as chaplains, tutors and spiritual directors, chap.
in the houses of opulent Jacobites. In a situation of L
this kind, a man of pure and exalted character, such i689.
a man as Ken was among the nonjurors, and Watts
among the nonconformists, may preserve his dignity,
and may much more than repay by his example and
his instructions the benefits which he receives. But to
a person whose virtue is not high toned this way of life
is ftdl of peril. K he is of a quiet disposition, he is in
danger of sinking into a servile, sensual, drowsy para-
site. If he is of an active and aspiring nature, it may
be feared that he will become expert in those bad arts
by which, more easily than by faithfiil service, retainers
make themselves agreeable or formidable. To discover
the weak side of every character, to flatter every passion
and prejudice, to sow discord and jealousy where love
and confidence ought to exist, to watch the moment of
indiscreet openness for the purpose of extracting secrets
important to the prosperity and honour of families, such
are the practices by which keen and restless spirits
have too often avenged themselves for the humiliation
of dependence. The public voice loudly accused many
nonjurors of requiting the hospitality of their bene-
fitctors with villany as black as that of the hypocrite
depicted in the masterpiece of Molifere. Indeed, when
Gibber undertook to adapt that noble comedy to the
English stage, he made his Tartuffe a nonjuror : and
Johnson, who cannot be supposed to have been preju-
diced against the nonjurors, frankly owned that Gibber
had done them no wrong.*
• Gibber's play, as Cibber wrote of tbe Hypocrite justly applicable to
ity ceased to be popular wben the the Methodists ; but it was very ap-
Jacobites ceased to be formidable, plicable to the nonjurors." Boswell
and is now known only to the curi- asked him if it were true that the
ous. In 1768 Bickerstaffe altered it noiyuring clergymen intrigued with
into the Hypocrite, and substituted the wiveo of their patrons. " I am
Dr. Cantwell, the Methodist, for Dr. afraid," said Johnson, " many of
Wolf, the Nonjuror. '* I do not them did." This conversation took
think/' laid Johnson, '« the character place on the 27 th of March 1775.
11 H 2
468
mSTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP.
XIV.
1689.
The plan
of Compre-
hension.
Tillotson.
There can be no doubt that the schism caused by the
oaths would have been far more formidable, i^ at this
crisis, any extensive change had been made in the
government or in the ceremonial of the Established
Church. It is a highly instructive fact that those
enlightened and tolerant divines who most ardently de-
sired such a change afterwards saw reason to be thank-
ful that their favourite project had failed.
Whigs and Tories had in the late Session combined
to get rid of Nottingham's Comprehension Bill by voting
an address which requested the King to refer the whole
subject to the Convocation. Burnet foresaw the effect of
this vote. The whole scheme, he said, was utterly ruined.*
Many of his friends, however, thought diflferently ; and
among these was TiUotson. Of all the members of the
Low Church party Tillotson stood highest in general
estimation. As a preacher, he was thought by his con-
temporaries to have surpassed all rivals living or dead.
Posterity has reversed this judgment. Yet TUlotson still
keeps his place as a legitimate English classic. His highest
flights were indeed far below those of Taylor, of Barrow,
and of South; but his oratory was more correct and
equable than theirs. No quaint conceits, no pedantic
quotations from Talmudists and scholiasts, no mean
images, buffoon stories, scurrilous invectives, ever mar-
habits of idleness, dependence, and
mendicancy, which lowered the cha-
racter of the whole party. *' Several
undeserving persons, who are always
the most confident, by their going
up and down, did much prejudice to
the truly deserving, whose modesty
would not suffer them to solicit for
themselves Mr. KettlewcU
was also very sensible that some of
his brethren spent too much of their
time in places of concourse and news,
by depending for their subsistence
upon those whom they there got ac-
quainted with."
* Reresby's Memoirs, 3i^,
It was not merely in careless talk that
Johnson expressed an unfavourable
opinion of the nonjurors. In his Life
of Fen ton, who was a nonjuror, are
these remarkable words : " It must be
remembered that he kept his name
unsullied, and never suffered himself
to be reduced, like too many of the
same sect, to mean arts and dis-
honourable shifts." See the Character
of a Jacobite, 1 69O. Even in Kettle-
well's Life, compiled from the papers
of his friends Hickes and Nelson,
will be found admissions which show
that, very soon after the schism, some
of the nonjuring clergy fell into
WILLIAM AND MAEY. 469
red the eflfect of his grave and temperate discourses, chap.
His reasoning was just sufficiently profound and suffi- 1
ciently refined to be followed by a popular audience ^^®9-
with that slight degree of intellectual exertion which
is a pleasure. His style is not brilliant ; but it is
pure, transparently clear, and equally free from the
levity and from the stiffiiess which disfigure the ser-
mons of some eminent divines of the seventeenth cen-
tury. He is always serious : yet there is about his
maimer a certain graceful ease which marks him as a
man who knows the world, who has lived in populous
cities and in splendid courts, and who has conversed,
not only with books, but with lawyers and merchants,
wits and beauties, statesmen and princes. The greatest
charm of his compositions, however, is derived from the
benignity and candour which appear in every line, and
which shone forth not less conspicuously in his life than
in his writings.
As a theologian, Tillotson was certainly not less
latitudinarian than Burnet. Yet many of those clergy-
men to whom Burnet was an object of implacable aver-
sion spoke of Tillotson with tenderness and respect.
It is therefore not strange that the two friends should
have formed different estimates of the temper of the
priesthood, and should have expected different results
from the meeting of the Convocation. Tillotson was
not displeased with the vote of the Commons. He
conceived that changes made in religious institutions
by mere secular authority might disgust many church-
men, who would yet be perfectly willing to vote, in an
ecclesiastical synod, for changes more extensive still;
and his opinion had great weight with the King.* It
was resolved that the Convocation should meet at the
beginning of the next session of Parliament, and that
in the meantime a commission should issue empower-
ing some eminent divines to examine the Liturgy, the
* Birch's Life of Tillotaon.
na 3
470 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, canons, and the whole system of jurisprudence admi-
1 nistered by the Courts Christian, and to report on the
1689. alterations which it might be desirable to make.*
An Eccie- Most of the Bishops who had taken the oaths were
c^mll- ^^ ^^^ commission ; and with them were joined twenty
sion issued, pricsts of gpcat uotc. Of the twenty Tillotson was the
most important : for he was known to speak the sense
both of the King and of the Queen. Among those
Commissioners who looked up to Tillotson as their chief
were Stillingfleet, Dean of Saint Paul's, Sharp, Dean
of Norwich, Patrick, Dean of Peterborough, Tenison,
Rector of Saint Martin's, and Fowler, to whose judi-
cious firmness was chiefly to be ascribed the determin-
ation of the London clergy not to read the Declaration
of Indulgence.
With such men as those who have been named
were mingled some divines who belonged to the High
Church party. Conspicuous among these were two of
the rulers of Oxford, Aldrich and Jane. Aldrich had
recently been appointed Dean of Christchurch, in the
room of the Papist Massey, whom James had, in di-
rect violation of the laws, placed at the head of that
great college. The new Dean was a polite, though not
a profound, scholar, and a jovial, hospitable gentleman.
He was the author of some theological tracts which
have long been forgotten, and of a compendium of
logic which is still used : but the best works which he
has bequeathed to posterity are his catches. Jane, the
King's Professor of Divinity, was a graver but a less
estimable man. He had borne the chief part in framing
that decree by which his University ordered the works
of Milton and Buchanan to be publicly burned in the
Schools. A few years later, irritated and alarmed by
the persecution of the Bishops and by the confiscation
of the revenues of Magdalene College, he had renounced
the doctrine of nonresistance, had repaired to the head
* See the Discourse concerning the Ecclesiastical Commission, I689.
WILLIAM AND MAHY, 471
quarters of the Prince of Orange, and had assured His chap.
Highness that Oxford would willingly coin her plate 1
for the support of the war against her oppressor, i^sj).
During a short time Jane was generally considered as
a Whig, and was sharply lampooned by some of his
old allies. He was so unfortunate as to have a name
which was an excellent mark for the learned punsters
of his university. Several epigrams were written on
the doublefaced Janus, who, having got a professorship
by looking one way, now hoped to get a bishopric by
looking another. That he hoped to get a bishopric was
perfectly true. He demanded the see of Exeter as a
reward due to his services. He was refused. The
refusal convinced him that the Church had as much to
apprehend from Latitudinarianism as from Popery;
and he speedily became a Tory again.*
Early in October the Commissioners assembled in the Proceed-
Jerusalem Chamber. At their first meeting they deter- e^^^is?^
mined to propose that, in the public services of the sion.
Church, lessons taken f5pom the canonical books of Scrip-
ture should be substituted for the lessons taken from
the Apocrypha.f At the second meeting a strange
question was raised by the very last person who ought
to have raised it. Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, had,
without any scruple, sate, during two years, in the
unconstitutional tribunal which had, in the late reign,
oppressed and pillaged the Church of which he was a
ruler. But he had now become scrupulous, and ex-
pressed a doubt whether the commission were legal.
To a plain understanding his objections seem to be mere
quibbles. The commission gave power neither to make
laws nor to administer laws, but simply to inquire and
• Birch's Life of Tilloteon ; Life Chester^ one of the Commissioners,
of Prideaux ; Gentleman's Magazine every night after he went home from
for June and July, 1745. the several meetings. This most
+ Diary of the Proceedings of curious Diary was printed by or-
tbe Commissioners, taken by Dr. der of the House of Commons in
WiUiams, afterwards Bishop of Chi- 1 854.
II II 4
472 IIISTOBY OF ENGLANP.
CHAP, to report. Even without a royal commission TillotsoD,
^^^' Patrick, and Stillingfleet might, with perfect propriety,
16*89. have met to discuss the state and prospects of the
Church, and to consider whether it would or would not
be desirable to make some concession to the dissenters.
And how could it be a crime for subjects to do at the
request of their Sovereign that which it would have been
innocent and laudable for them to do without any such
request? Sprat however was seconded by Jane. There
was a sharp altercation; and Lloyd, Bishop of Saint
Asaph, who, with many good qualities, had an irritable
temper, was provoked into saying something about
spies. Sprat withdrew and came no more. His ex-
ample was soon followed by Jane and Aldrich.* The
commissioners proceeded to take into consideration the
question of the posture at the Eucharist. It was deter-
mined to recommend that a communicant, who, after
conference with his minister, should declare that he
could not conscientiously receive the bread and wine
kneeling, might receive them sitting. Mew, Bishop of
Winchester, an honest man, but illiterate, weak even in
his best days, and now fast sinking into dotage, protested
against this concession, and withdrew from the assem-
bly. The other members continued to apply them-
selves vigorously to their task : and no more secessions
took place, though there were great differences of opi-
nion, and though the debates were sometimes warm.
The highest churchmen who still remained were Doctor
William Beveridge, Archdeacon of Colchester, who
many years later became Bishop of Saint Asaph, and
Doctor John Scott, the same who had prayed by the
deathbed of Jeffreys. The most active among the
Latitudinarians appear to have been Burnet, Fowler,
and Tcnison.
The baptismal service was repeatedly discussed. As
to matter of form the Commissioners were disposed to
♦ Williams's Diary.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 473
be indulgent. They were generally willing to admit chap.
infants into the Church without sponsors and without !
the sign of the cross. But the majority, after much ^^^9-
debate, steadily refused to soften down or explain away
those words which, to all minds not sophisticated, appear
to assert the regenerating virtue of the sacrament.*
As to the surplice, the Commissioners determined to
recommend that a large discretion should be left to the
Bishops. Expedients were devised by which a person
who had received Presbyterian ordination might, with-
out admitting, either expressly or by implication, the
invalidity of that ordination, become a minister of the
Church of England.f
The ecclesiastical calendar was carefully revised. The
great festivals were retained. But it was not thought
desirable that Saint Valentine, Saint Chad, Saint Swithin,
Saint Edward King of the West Saxons, Saint Dunstan,
and Saint Alphage, should share the honours of Saint
John and Saint Paul; or that the Church should appear
to class the ridiculous fable of the discovery of the
cross with facts so awfully important as the Nativity,
the Passion, the Resurrection, and the Ascension of her
Lord.!
The Athanasian Creed caused much perplexity. Most
of the Commissioners were equally unwilling to give
up the doctrinal clauses and to retain the damnatory
clauses. Burnet, Fowler, and Tillotson were desirous
to strike this famous symbol out of the liturgy altoge-
ther. Burnet brought forward one argument, which to
himself probably did not appear to have much weight,
but which was admirably calculated to perplex his op-
ponents, Beveridge and Scott. The Council of Ephesus
had always been reverenced by Anglican divines as a
• Williams's Diary. Royal Commissioners for the revision
t IWd. of the Liturgy in l689, and printed
i See the alterations in the Book by order of the House of Commons
of Common Prayer prepared by the in 1 854*.
474 HISTORY OP ENGLAND.
CHAP, synod which had truly represented the whole body of
^^^' the faithful, and which had been divinely guided in the
1689. way of truth. The voice of that Council was the voice
of the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church, not yet
corrupted by superstition, or rent asunder by sclusm.
During more than twelve centuries the world had not
seen an ecclesiastical assembly which had an equal claim
to the respect of believers. The Council of Ephesns
had, in the plainest terms, and under the most terrible
penalties, forbidden Christians to frame or to impose on
their brethren any creed other than the creed settled by
the Nicene Fathers. It should seem therefore that, if
the Council of Ephesus was really under the direction
of the Holy Spirit, whoever uses the Athanasian Creed
must, in the very act of uttering an anaithema against
his neighbours, bring down an anathema on his own
head.* In spite of the authority of the Ephesian
Fathers, the majority of the Commissioners determined
to leave the Athanasian Creed in the Prayer Book; but
they proposed to add a rubric drawn up by Stilling-
fleet, which declared that the damnatory clauses were
to be understood to apply only to such as obstinately
denied the substance of the Christian Faith. Orthodox
believers were therefore permitted to hope that the he-
retic who had honestly and humbly sought for truth
would not be everlastingly punished for having fisiiled
to find it.f
♦ It is difficult to conceive strong- Xovaiv IwitrrpefEiy eiq kirlyvunrtv t^c
er or clearer language than that dKrideiag, f/ cf 'EXXiyvca/xov, 3 U
used by the Council. Tovrtoy ro'iyvy 'lov5«Vo'^ov, 5 lialpitreiac oiao'^1770-
arayyuxrOivTwyf wpiaiy f^ Ayta rovy^ TovrovCy d fiiy elty iiritTKoitOi
avvoCoq, Iripay nicrriy firjBeyi tjft- f/ KXiipiKOi, 6XKoTp(ovc tlyai n/vc
rai irpo<r(pipeiy, ijyovy crvyypa^ciy, liriaKOKovq r^c iTrurKorijCf «ra« rove
5 trvkTidiyaiy irapa Trjy bpiffdeiffay KXrjpiKovg tov kkiipov, €1 ie XaV-
irapa Twy ayitay wariptoy rQy ky Kcii tliVy dyaOefiaTiieffOai. — Concil.
Ty 'SiKuitay tTvyeXdoyruy trvy ay/yi £phes. Actio VI.
vyevfAaTi • rove ^£ ToXfiufyrag tj f Williams's Diary ; Alterations
avynOf.yai iriariy trlpayy ijyovy in the Book of Common Prayer.
irpoKOfiil^uy, 5 wpovipipuy toIq iOe'
WILLIAM AND MABY. 475
Tenison was intrusted with the business of examin- chap.
ing the Liturgy and of collecting all those expressions L
to which objections had been made, either by theolo- ^689.
gical OP by literary critics. It was determined to re-
move some obvious blemishes. And it would have
been wise in the Commissioners to stop here. Unfor-
tunately they determined to rewrite a great part of the
Prayer Book. It was a bold undertaking ; for in general
the style of that volume is such as cannot be improved.
The English Liturgy indeed gains by being compared
even with those fine ancient Liturgies from which it
is to a great extent taken. The essential qualities of
devotional eloquence, conciseness, majestic simplicity,
pathetic earnestness of supplication, sobered by a pro-
found reverence, are common between the translations
and the originals. But in the subordinate graces of
diction the originals must be allowed to be far inferior
to the translations. And the reason is obvious. The
technical phraseology of Christianity did not become a
part of the Latin language till that language had passed
the age of maturity and was sinking into barbarism.
But the technical phraseology of Christianity was found
in the Anglosaxon and in the Norman French, long
before the union of those two dialects had produced a
third dialect superior to either. The Latin of the Roman
Catholic services, therefore, is Latin in the last stage of
decay. The English of our services is English in all
the vigour and suppleness of early youth. To the great
Latin writers, to Terence and Lucretius, to Cicero and
CaBsar, to Tacitus and Quintilian, the noblest compo-
sitions of Ambrose and Gregory would have seemed to
be, not merely bad writing, but senseless gibberish.*
The diction of our Book of Common Prayer, on the
^ It is curious to consider how cessabili voce proclamant, Sanctus^
those great masters of the Latin Sanctus^ Sanctus^ Dominus Deus
tongue who used to sup with Mscenas Sabaoth ;" or by '' Ideo cum angelis
and Pollio would have been iierplexed et archangelis^ cum thronis et domi-
by '' Tibi Cherubim et Seraphim in- nationibiis."
476 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, other hand, has directly or indirectly contributed to
^^^' form the diction of ahnost every great English writer,
1689- and has extorted the admiration of the most accom-
plished infidels and of the most accomplished noncon-
formists, of such men as David Hume and Robert HalL
The style of the Liturgy, however, did not satisfy the
Doctors of the Jerusalem Chamber. They voted the
Collects too short and too dry : and Patrick was in-
trusted with the duty of expanding and ornamenting
them. In one respect, at least, the choice seems to have
been imexceptionable ; for, if we judge by the way in
which Patrick paraphrased the most sublime Hebrew
poetry, we shall probably be of opinion that, whether
he was or was not qualified to make the collects better,
no man that ever lived was more competent to make
them longer.*
The Con- It mattered little, however, whether the recommend-
thepi^^^ ations of the Commission were good or bad. They
vince of ^ere all doomed before they were known. The writs
summoned, summouiug the Couvocatiou of the province of CantiT-
the"aer-/. ^^^7 ^^^^ ^^^^ issucd; and the clergy were every where
in a state of violent excitement. They had just taken
the oaths, and were smarting from the earnest reproofs
* I will give two specimens of quisitely beautiful yerse. " I chtrge
Patrick's workmanship. " He maketh you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if
me," says David, ** to lie down in ye find my beloved, that ye tell him
green pastures : he leadeth me be- that I am sick of love." Patrick*i
bide the still waters." Patrick's ver- version runs thus : " So I turned
sion is as follows : " For as a good myself to those of my neigfaboun
shepherd leads his sheep in the and familiar acquaintance who were
violent heat to shady places, where awakened by my cries to come and
they may lie down and feed ( not in see what the matter was ; and con-
parched, but) in fresh and green jured them, as they would answer it
pastures, and in the evening leads to God, that, if they met with my
them ( not to muddy and troubled beloved, they would let him know-
waters, but ) to pure and quiet What shall I say ? — What shall I
streams ; so hath he already maide a desire you to tell him but that I do
fair and plentiful provision for me, not enjoy myself now that I want
which I enjoy in peace without any his company, nor can be well till I
disturbance." recover his love again.'*
In the Song of Solomon is an ex-
WILLIAM AND MART. 477
of nonjurors, from the insolent taunts of Whigs, and chap.
often undoubtedly from the stings of remorse. The ^^^'
annoimcement that a Convocation was to sit for the ^^^9-
purpose of deliberating on a plan of comprehension
roused all the strongest passions of the priest who had
just complied with the law, and was ill satisfied or half
satisfied with himself for complying. He had an op-
portunity of contributing to defeat a favourite scheme
of that government which had exacted from him, under
severe penalties, a submission not easily to be reconciled
to his conscience or his pride. He had an opportunity
of signalising his zeal for that Church whose character-
istic doctrines he had been accused of deserting for
lucre. She was now, he conceived, threatened by a
danger as great as that of the preceding year. The
Latitudinarians of 1689 were not less eager to humble
and to ruin her than the Jesuits of 1688. The Tole-
ration Act had done for the Dissenters quite as much
as was compatible with her dignity and security ; and
nothing more ought to be conceded, not the hem of one
of her vestments, not an epithet from the beginning to
the end of her Liturgy. All the reproaches which had
been thrown on the ecclesiastical commission of James
were transferred to the ecclesiastial commission of Wil-
liam. The two commissions indeed had nothing but
the name in common. But the name was associated
with illegality and oppression, with the violation of
dwellings and the confiscation of freeholds, and was
therefore assiduously sounded with no small efiect by
the tongues of the spiteful in the ears of the ignorant.
The Sang too, it was said, was not sound. He con- The clergy
formed indeed to the established worship ; but his was lowards
a local and occasional conformity. For some ceremo- ^^® ^*°6-
nies to which High Churchmen were attached he had a
distaste which he was at no pains to conceal. One of
his first acts had been to give orders that in his private
chapel the service should be said instead of being sung j
478 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, and this arrangement, though warranted by the rubric,
^^^' caused much murmuring. * It was known that he was
i68p. 80 profane as to sneer at a practice which had been
sanctioned by high ecclesiastical authority, the practice
of touching for the scrofula. This ceremony had come
down almost unaltered from the darkest of the dark
ages to the time of Newton and Locke. The Stuarts
frequently dispensed the healing influences in the Ban-
queting House. The days on which this miracle was
to be wrought were fixed at sittings of the Privy Council,
and were solemnly notified by the clergy in all the parish
churches of the realm.f When the appointed time came,
several divines in fiill canonicals stood round the canopy
of state. The surgeon of the royal household introduced
the sick. A passage from the sixteenth chapter of the
Gospel of Saint Mark was read. When the words, " They
shall lay their hands on the sick, and they shall recover,"
had been pronoimced, there was a pause, and one
of the sick was brought up to the King. His Majesty
stroked the ulcers and swellings, and hung round the
patient's neck a white riband to which was fastened a
gold coin. The other sufiferers were then led up in
succession ; and, as each was touched, the chaplain re-
peated the incantation, " They shall lay their hands
on the sick, and they shall recover." Then came the
epistle, prayers, antiphonies and a benediction. The
service may still be found in the prayer books of the
reign of Anne. Indeed it was not tiU some time after
the accession of George the First that the University
of Oxford ceased to reprint the Office of Healing to-
gether with the Liturgy. Theologians of eminent
learning, ability, and virtue gave the sanction of their
authority to this mummery J; and, what is stranger
♦ William's dislike of the Cathe- Friend in the Country, 1689, and
dral service is sarcastically noticed Bisset's Modern Fanatic, 1710.
hy Leslie in the Rehearsal, No. 7- t See the Order in Council of
See also a Letter from a Member Jan. 9. l683.
of the House of Commons to his j: See Collier's Desertion dis-
WILLIAM AND MARY. 479
still, medical men of high note believed, or affected chap.
to believe, in the balsamic virtues of the royal hand. ^^^'
We must suppose that every surgeon who attended 1689.
Charles the Second was a man of high repute for
skill ; and more than one of the surgeons who at-
tended Charles the Second has left us a solemn pro-
fession of faith in the King's miraculous power. One of
them is not ashamed to tell us that the gift was com-
municated by the unction administered at the coronation ;
that the cures were so numerous and sometimes so rapid
that they could not be attributed to any natural cause ;
that the failures were to be ascribed to want of faith on
the part of the patients ; that Charles once handled a
scrofulous Quaker and made him a healthy man and a
sound Churchman in a moment ; that, if those who had
been healed lost or sold the piece of gold which had been
hung roimd their necks, the ulcers broke forth again, and
could be removed only by a second touch and a second
talisman. We cannot wonder that, when men of sci-
ence gravely repeated such nonsense, the vulgar should
believe it. Still less can we wonder that wretches
tortured by a disease over which natural remedies had
no power should eagerly drink in tales of preternatural
cures : for nothing is so credulous as misery. The crowds
which repaired to the palace on the days of healing were
immense. Charles the Second, in the course of his
reign, touched near a hundred thousand persons. The
number seems to have increased or diminished as the
king's popularity rose or fell. During that Tory
reaction which followed the dissolution of the Oxford
Parliament, the press to get near him was terrific. In
cussed^ 1689. Thomas Carte, who the Pretender had cured the scro-
was a diaciple, and, at one time, an fohi, and very gravely inferred that
aanataat of Collier, inserted, so late the healing virtue was transmitted by
as the year 1747> in a bulky His- inheritance, and was quite indepen-
tory of England^ ao exquisitely ah- dent of any unction. See Carte's
surd note, in which he assured the History of England, vol. i. page
world thaty to his certain knowledge, 29 1.
480 IIISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. 1682, he performed the rite eight thousand five hundred
L times. In 1684, the throng was such that six or seven
1 689. of the sick were trampled to death. James, in one of his
progresses, touched eight hundred persons in the choir
of the Cathedral of Chester. The expense of the cere-
mony was little less than ten thousand pounds a year,
and would have been much greater but for the vigi-
lance of the royal surgeons, whose business it was to
examine the applicants, and to distinguish those who
came for the cure from those who came for the gold.*
William had too much sense to be duped^ and too
much honesty to bear a part in what he knew to be an
imposture. "It is a silly superstition," he exclaimed,
when he heard that, at the close of Lent, his palace was
besieged by a crowd of the sick : " Give the poor crea-
tures some money, and send them away."f On one
single occasion he was importuned into laying his hand
on a patient. " God give you better health," he said,
" and more sense." The parents of scrofulous children
cried out against his cruelty: bigots lifted up their
hands and eyes in horror at his impiety : Jacobites
sarcastically praised him for not presuming to arrogate
to himself a power which belonged only to legitimate
sovereigns ; and even some Whigs thought that he acted
unwisely in treating with such marked contempt a su-
perstition which had a strong hold on the vulgar mind :
but William was not to be moved, and was accordingly
♦See the Preface to a Treatise Evelyn's Diary, March 28. 1684;
on Wounds, hy Richard Wiseman, and Bishop Cartwright's Diary, Au-
Sergeant Chirurgeon to His Ma- gust 28, 29, and 30. l687. It is
jesty, 1676. But the fullest inform- incredible that so large a propor-
ation on this curious subject will tion of the population should have
be found in the Charisma Basili- been really scrofulous. No doubt
con, by John Browne, Chirurgeon many persons who had slight and
in ordinary to His Majesty, 16*84. transient maladies were brought to
See also The Ceremonies used in the king, and the recovery of these
the Time of King Henry VI I. for persons kept up the vulgar belief iu
the Healing of them that be Diseased the efficacy of his touch,
with the King's Evil, published by t Paris Gazette, April 23. I689.
His Migesty's Command, I686;
WILLLA3I AKD MARY. 481
set down by many High Churchmen as either an infidel chap.
or a puritan.* ^^^'
The chief cause, however, which at this time made 1689.
even the most moderate plan of comprehension hateful The clergy
to the priesthood still remains to be mentioned. What nt^
Burnet had foreseen and foretold had come to pass, ^^tew
There was throughout the clerical profession a strong by the pro-
disposition to retaliate on the Presbyterians of England the ScSch
the wrongs of the Episcopalians of Scotland. It could ^mJ?^^"
not be denied that even the highest churchmen had, in
the summer of 1688, generally declared themselves will-
ing to give up many things for the sake of union. But
it was said, and not without plausibility, that what was
passing on the other side of the Border proved union on
any reasonable terms to be impossible. With what
face, it was asked, can those who will make no conces-
sion to us where we are weak, blame us for refusing to
make any concession to them where we are strong?
We cannot judge correctly of the principles and feelings
of a sect f5pom the professions which it makes in a time
of feebleness and suffering. K we would know what
the Puritan spirit really is, we must observe the Puritan
when he is dominant. He was dominant here in the
last generation ; and his little finger was thicker than
the loins of the prelates. He drove hundreds of quiet
students f5pom their cloisters, and thousands of respect-
able divines f5pom their parsonages, for the crime of re-
fusing to sign his Covenant. No tenderness was shown
to learning, to genius or to sanctity. Such men as
Hall and Sanderson, Chillingworth and Hammond, were
not only plundered, but flung into prisons, and exposed
to all Ae rudeness of brutal gaolers. It was made a
crime to read fine psalms and prayers bequeathed to the
* See Whiston's Life of himself, touched was cured, notwithstanding
Poor Whiston, who believed in every His Migesty*s want of faith. See
thing hot the Trinity, tells us gravely also the Athenian Mercury of Ja-
that the single person whom William nuary 1 6. 1 69 1 •
VOL. m. II
482 HISTOBY OF ENGLAOT).
CHAP, faithful by Ambrose and Chrysostom. At length the
1 nation became weary of the reign of the saints. The
1689. fallen dynasty and the fallen hierarchy were restored.
The Puritan was in his turn subjected to disabilities
and penalties ; and he immediately found out that it
was barbarous to punish men for entertaining con-
scientious scruples about a garb, about a ceremony,
about the functions of ecclesiastical officers. His pi-
teous complaints and his arguments in favour of tole-
ration had at length imposed on many well meaning
persons. Even zealous churchmen had begun to enter-
tain a hope that the severe discipline which he had un-
dergone had made him candid, moderate, charitable.
Had this been really so, it would doubtless have been
our duty to treat his scruples with extreme tender-
ness. But, while we were considering what we could do
to meet his wishes in England, he had obtained ascen-
dency in Scotland ; and, in an instant, he was all him-
self again, bigoted, insolent, and cruel. Manses had
been sacked ; churches shut up ; prayer books burned ;
sacred garments torn ; congregations dispersed by \ao-
lence; priests hustled, pelted, pilloried, driven forth,
^vith their wives and babes, to beg or die of hunger.
That these outrages were to be imputed, not to a few
lawless marauders, but to the great body of the Pres-
byterians of Scotland, was evident from the fact that
the government had not dared either to inflict pimish-
raent on the offenders or to grant relief to the sufferers.
Was it not fit then that the Church of England should
take warning ? Was it reasonable to ask her to muti-
late her apostolical polity and her beautiful ritual for -
the purpose of conciliating those who wanted nothing
but power to rabble her as they had rabbled her sister ?
Already these men had obtained a boon which they ill
deserved, and which they never would have granted.
They worshipped God in perfect security. Their meet-
ing houses were as effectually protected as the choirs
WILLIAM AKD MARY. 483
of our cathedrals. While no episcopal minister could, chap.
without putting his life in jeopardy, officiate in Ayr- 1
shire or Renfrewshire, a hundred Presbyterian minis- ^^^9-
ters preached unmolested every Sunday in Middlesex.
The legislature had, with a generosity perhaps impru-
dent, granted toleration to the most intolerant of men ;
and with toleration it behoved them to be content.
Thus several causes conspired to inflame the parochial constitn-
clergy against the scheme of comprehension. Their c^nv^Ua-*
temper was such that, if the plan framed in the Je- ^*^'*-
rus^em Chamber had been directly submitted to them,
it would have been rejected by a majority of twenty
to one. But in the Convocation their weight bore no
proportion to their number. The Convocation has, hap-
pily for our country, been so long utterly insignificant
that, till a recent period, none but curious students
cared to inquire how it was constituted ; and even
now many persons, not generally ill informed, imagine
it to have been a council representing the Church
of England. In truth the Convocation so often men-
tioned in our ecclesiastical history is merely the synod
of the Province of Canterbury, and never had a right
to speak in the name of the whole clerical body.
The Province of York had also its convocation: but,
till the eighteenth century was far advanced, the Pro-
vince of York was generally so poor, so rude, and so
thinly peopled, that, in poUtical importance, it could
hardly be considered as more than a tenth part of
the Ungdom. The sense of the Southern clergy was'
therefore popularly considered as the sense of the
whole profession. When the formal concurrence of
the Northern clergy was required, it seems to have
been given as a matter of course. Indeed the canons
passed by the Convocation of Canterbury in 1604 were
ratified by James the First, and were ordered to be
strictly ol»erved in every part of the kingdom, two years
before the Convocation of York went through the form
II 2
484 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, of approving them. Since these ecclesiaatical councils
^^^' became mere names, a great change haa taken place in
1689. the relative position of the two Archbishoprics. In all
the elements of power, the region beyond Trent is
now at least a third part of England. When in our
own time the representative system was adjusted to
the altered state of the country, almost all the small
boroughs which it was necessary to disfranchise were in
the south. Two thirds of the new members given to
great provincial towns were given to the north. If
therefore any English government should suffer the
Convocations, as now constituted, to meet for the de-
spatch of business, two independent synods would be
legislating at the same time for one Church. It is by
no means impossible that one assembly might adopt
canons which the other might reject, that one assem-
bly might condenm as heretical propositions which
the other might hold to be orthodox.* In the seven-
teenth century no such danger was apprehended. So
little indeed was the Convocation of York then con-
sidered, that the two Houses of Parliament had, in their
address to William, spoken only of one Convocation,
which they called the Convocation of the Clergy of the
Kingdom.
The body which they thus not very accurately de-
signated is divided into two Houses. The Upper
House is composed of the Bishops of the Province of
Canterbury. The Lower House consisted, in 1689, of
a hundred and forty four members. Twenty two Deans
and fifty four Archdeacons sate there in virtue of their
offices. Twenty four divines sate as proctors for twenty
^ In several recent publications less likely to differ than two Houses
the apprehension that differences of the same Convocation ; and it is
might arise between the Convoca- matter of notoriety that, in the
tion of York and the Convocation reigns of William the Third and
of Canterbury has been contemptu- Anne^ the two Houses of the Con-
ously pronounced chimerical. But vocation of Canterbury scarcely ever
it is not easy to understand why two agreed,
independent Convocations shotdd be
WILLIAM AND MABY. 485
four chapters. Only forty four proctors were elected chap.
by the eight thousand parish priests of the twenty two ^^^'
dioceses. These forty four proctors, however, were i^^P-
almost all of one mind. The elections had in former Election of
times been conducted in the most quiet and decorous S"^^^^
maimer. But on this occasion the canvassing was nation.
eager : the contests were sharp : Rochester, the leader
of the party which in the House of Lords had opposed
the Comprehension Bill, and his brother Clarendon, who
had refiised to take the oaths, had gone to Oxford, the
head quarters of that party, for the purpose of ani-
mating and organizing the opposition.* The represen-
tatives of the parochial clergy must have been men
whose chief distinction was their zeal : for in the whole
list can be found not a single illustrious name, and
very few names which are now known even to curi-
ous students.f The official members of the Lower
House, among whom were many distinguished scholars
and preachers, seem to have been not very unequally
divided.
During the summer of 1689 several high ecclesias- Ecciesiaa-
tical dignities became vacant, and were bestowed on Jem^^'J^
divines who were sitting in the Jerusalem Chamber, bestowed.
It has already been mentioned that Thomas, Bishop of
Worcester, died just before the day fixed for taking
the oaths. Lake, Bishop of Chichester, lived just long
enough to refuse them, and with his last breath de-
clared that he would maintain even at the stake the
doctrine of indefeasible hereditary right. The see of
Chichester was filled by Patrick, that of Worcester by
StiUingfleet ; and the deanery of Saint Paul's which Stil-
* Birch's Life of Tillotson ; Life appended to the second edition of
of Prideaux. From Clarendon's Vox Cleri, I69O. The most consi-
Diary, it appears that he and Ro- derable name that I perceive in the
Chester were at Oxford on the 23rd list of proctors chosen by the pa-
of September. rochial clergy is that of Dr. John
f See the Roll in the Historical Mill^ the editor of the Greek Tet«
Account of the present Conyocation, tamcnt.
II 3
486 HISTORY OF ENGLAHD.
CHAP, lingfleet quitted was given to Tillotson. That Tillot-
^^^' son was not raised to the episcopal bench excited some
|689. surprise. But in truth it was because the government
held his services in the highest estimation that he was
suffered to remain a little longer a simple presbyter.
The most important office in the Convocation was that
of Prolocutor of the Lower House. The Prolocutor
was to be chosen by the members : and the only mo-
derate man who had a chance of being chosen was Til-
lotson. It had in fact been already determined that
he should be the next Archbishop of Canterbury.
When he went to kiss hands for his new deanery he
warmly thanked the King. " Your Majesty has now
set me at ease for the remainder of my life." " Ko
such thing, Doctor, I assure you," said William. He
then plainly intimated that, whenever Sancroft should
cease to fill the highest ecclesiastical station, Tillotsoa
would succeed to it. Tillotson stood aghast; for his
nature was quiet and unambitious : he was beginning to
feel the infirmities of old age : he cared little for money:
of worldly advantages those which he most valued were
an honest fame and the general good will of mankind :
those advantages he already possessed ; and he could
not but be aware that, if he became primate, he should
incur the bitterest hatred of a powerful party, and
should become a mark for obloquy, from which his
gentle and sensitive nature shrank as from the rack or
the wheel. William was earnest and resolute. " It is
necessary," he said, " for my service ; and I must lay
on your conscience the responsibility of refusing me
your help." Here the conversation ended. It was,
indeed, not necessary that the point should be imme-
diately decided; for several months were stiU to elapse
before the Archbishopric would be vacant.
Tillotson bemoaned himself with unfeigned anxiety
and sorrow to Lady Russell, whom, of all human beings,
he most honoured and trusted.* He hoped, he said,
* Tillotson to Lady Russell, April IQ. I69O.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 487
that he was not inclined to shrink from the service of chap.
the Church; but he was convinced that his present line ^^^'
of service was that in which he could be most useful. 1^89-
K he should be forced to accept so high and so invidious
a post as the primacy, he should soon sink under the
load of duties and anxieties too heavy for his strength.
His spirits, and with his spirits his abilities, would fail
him. He gently complained of Burnet, who loved and
admired him with a truly generous heartiness, and who
had laboured to persuade both the King and Queen
that there was in England only one man fit for the
highest ecclesiastical dignity. " The Bishop of Salis-
bury," said Tillotson, "is one of the best and worst
friends that I know."
Nothing that was not a secret to Burnet was likely Compton
to be long a secret to any body. It soon began to be t^^
whispered about that the King had fixed on Tillotson
to fill the place of Sancrofk. The news caused cruel
mortification to Compton, who, not imnaturally, con-
ceived that his own claims were unrivalled. He had
educated the Queen and her sister; and to the instruc-
tion which they had received from him might fairly be
ascribed, at least in part, the firmness with which, in
spite of the influence of their father, they had adhered
to the established religion. Compton was, moreover,
the only prelate who, during the late reign, had raised
his voice in Parliament against the dispensing power,
the only prelate who had been suspended by the High
Commission, the only prelate who had signed the in-
vitation to the Prince of Orange, the only prelate who
had actually taken arms against Popery and arbitrary
power, the only prelate, save one, who had voted
against a Regency. Among the ecclesiastics of the
Province of Canterbury who had taken the oaths, he
was highest in rank. He had therefore held, during
some months, a vicarious primacy: he had crowned
the new Sovereigns : he had consecrated the new
1 I 4
488 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Bishops: he was about to preside in the Convocation.
^^^' It may be added, that he was the son of an Earl; and
1689. that no person of equally high birth then sate, or
had ever sate, since the Reformation, on the episcopal
bench. That the government should put over his head
a priest of his own diocese, who was the son of a York-
sliire clothier, and who was distinguished only by abi-
lities and virtues, was provoking ; and Compton, though
by no means a badhearted man, was much provoked.
Perhaps his vexation was increased by the reflection
that he had, for the sake of those by whom he was thus
slighted, done some things which had strained his con-
science and suUied his reputation, that he had at one
time practised the disingenuous arts of a diplomatist,
and at another time given scandal to his brethren by
wearing the buff coat and jackboots of a trooper. He
could not accuse Tillotson of inordinate ambition. But^
though Tillotson was most unwilling to accept the
Archbishopric himself, he did not use his influence in
favour of Compton, but earnestly recommended Stilling-
fleet as the man fittest to preside over the Church of
England. The consequence was that, on the eve of
the meeting of Convocation, the Bishop who was to be
at the head of the Upper House became the personal
enemy of the presbyter whom the government wished
to see at the head of the Lower House. This quarrel
added new difficulties to difficulties which little needed
any addition.*
The Con- It was uot till the twentieth of November that the Con-
mct^tl'!''* vocation met for the despatch of business. The place of
meeting had generally been Saint Paul's Cathedral. But
Saint Paul's Cathedral was slowly rising from its ruins;
and, though the dome already towered high above the
♦ Birch's Life of Tillotson. The Henry Wharton, and is confirmed
account there given of the coldness by many circumstances which are
between Compton and Tillotson was known from other sources of in-
taken by Birch from the MSS. of telligonce.
WILLIAM AND MAKY. 489
hundred steeples of the City, the choir had not yet chap.
been opened for public worship. The assembly there- ' '
fore sate at Westminster.* A table was placed in the ^^^9-
beautiful chapel of Henry the Seventh. Compton was
in the chair. On his right and lefk those suffragans of
Canterbury who had taken the oaths were ranged in
gorgeous vestments of scarlet and miniver. Below the
table was assembled the crowd of presbyters. Beveridge
preached a Latin sermon, in which he warmly eulogized
the existing system, and yet declared himself favour-
able to a moderate reform. Ecclesiastical laws were,
he said, of two kinds. Some laws were fundamental
and eternal : they derived their authority from God ;
nor could any religious community repeal them with-
out ceasing to form a part of the universal Church.
Other laws were local and temporary. They had been
framed by human wisdom, and might be altered by
human wisdom. They ought not indeed to be altered
without grave reasons. But surely, at that moment,
such reasons were not wanting. To unite a scattered
flock in one fold under one shepherd, to remove stum-
bling blocks firom the path of the weak, to reconcile
hearts long estranged, to restore spiritual discipline to
its primitive vigour, to place the best and purest of
Christian societies on a base broad enough to stand
against all the attacks of earth and hell, these were
objects which might well justify some modification, not
of Catholic institutions, but of national or provincial
usages.f
The Lower House, having heard this discourse, pro- The High
ceeded to appoint a Prolocutor. Sharp, who was pro- men's ma-
bably put forward by the members favourable to a ^^"7 *^^
comprehension as one of the highest churchmen among Honse of
them, proposed TiUotson. Jane, who had refused to ^^^^^"
act under the Royal Commission, was proposed on the
* Chamberla3aie'B State of £ng- f Concio ad Synoclum per Gu-
land^ ISth edition. lielmum Beveregium^ I689.
490 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Other side. After some animated discussion, Jane was
^^^' elected by fifty five votes to twenty eight.*
1689. The Prolocutor was formally presented to the Bishop
of London, and made, according to ancient usage, a
Latin oration. In this oration the Anglican Church
was extolled as the most perfect of all institutions.
There was a very intelligible intimation that no change
whatever in her doctrine, her discipline, or her ritual
was required; and the discourse concluded with a most
significant sentence. Compton, when a few months
before he exhibited himself in the somewhat unclerical
character of a colonel of horse, had ordered the colours
of his regiment to be embroidered with the well known
words "Nolumus leges AnglisB mutari"; and with
these words Jane closed his peroration.f
Still the Low Churchmen did not relinquish all hope.
They very wisely determined to begin by proposing to
substitute lessons taken from the canonical books for
the lessons taken from the ApocrjT)ha. It should seem
that this was a suggestion which, even if there had not
been a single dissenter in the kingdom, might well have
been received with favour. For the Church had, in
her sixth Article, declared that the canonical books
were, and that the Apocryphal books were not, entitled
to be called Holy Scriptures, and to be regarded as the
rule of faith. Even this reform, however, the High
Churchmen were determined to oppose. They asked, in
pamphlets which covered the counters of Paternoster
Row and Little Britain, why country congregations
should be deprived of the pleasure of hearing about the
ball of pitch with which Daniel choked the dragon, and
about the fish whose liver gave forth such a fume as
sent the devil flying from Ecbatana to Egj^t. And
were there not chapters of the Wisdom of the Son of
Sirach far more interesting and edifying than the ge-
♦ Narcissus Luttrell's Diary ; f Rennet's History, iiL 552.
Historical Account of the Present
Convocation.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 491
nealogies and muster rolls which made up a large part chap.
of the Chronicles of the Jewish Kings and of the nar- ^^^'
rative of Nehemiah? No grave divine however would i689.
have liked to maintain, in Henry the Seventh's Cha-
pel, that it was impossible to find, in many hundreds
of pages dictated by the Holy Spirit, fifty or sixty
chapters more edifying than any thing which could
be extracted from the works of the most respectable
uninspired moralist or historian. The leaders of tlie
majority therefore determined to shun a debate in
which they must have been reduced to a disagree-
able dilemma. Their plan was, hot to reject the re-
commendations of the Commissioners, but to prevent
those recommendations from being discussed ; and
with this view a system of tactics was adopted which
proved successftd.
The law, as it had been interpreted during a long
course of years, prohibited the Convocation from even
deliberating on any ecclesiastical ordinance without a
previous warrant from the Crown. Such a warrant,
sealed with the great seal, was brought in form to
Henry the Seventh's Chapel by Nottingham. He at
the same time delivered a message from the King. His
Majesty exhorted the assembly to consider calmly and
without prejudice the recommendations of the Commis-
sion, and declared that he had nothing in view but the
honour and advantage of the Protestant religion in
general, and of the Church of England in particular.*
The Bishops speedily agreed on an address of thanks Difference
for the royal message, and requested the cqpcurrence of ^^^^
the Lower House. Jane and his adherents raised ob- Houses of
jection after objection. First they claimed the privi- tion!*'^
lege of presenting a separate address. When they were
forced to widve this claim, they reftised to agree to any
expression which imported that the Church of England
had any fellowship with any other Protestant commu-
* Historical Account of the Present Convocation^ 1689.
492 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. nity. Amendments and reasons were sent backward
^^^' and forward. Conferences were held at which Burnet
1689. on one side and Jane on the other were the chief
speakers. At last, with great difficulty, a compromise
was made; aild an address, cold and ungracious com-
pared with that which the Bishops had framed, was
presented to the King in the Banqueting House. He
dissembled his vexation, returned a kind answer, and
intimated a hope that the assembly would now at length
proceed to consider the great question of Comprehen-
sion.*
The Lower Such howcvcr was Hot the intention of the leaders
OwrJowf- ^f *^^ Lower House. As soon as they were again in
tioD proves Heurv the Seventh's ChapeL one of them raised a debate
able. about the nonjunng Bishops. In spite of the unfortunate
scruple which those prelates entertained, they were
learned and holy men. Their advice might, at this
conjuncture, be of the greatest service to the Church.
The Upper House was hardly an Upper House in the
absence of the Primate and of many of his most respect-
able suffragans. Could nothing be done to remedy this
evil? f Another member complained of some pamphlets
which had lately appeared, and in which the Convo-
cation was not treated with proper deference. The
assembly took fire. Was it not monstrous that this
heretical and schismatical trash should be cried by the
hawkers about the streets, and should be exposed to
sale in the booths of Westminster Hall, within a hun-
dred yards of the Prolocutor's chair? The work of
mutilating t^e Liturgy and of turning cathedrals into
conventicles might surely be postponed till the Synod
had taken measures to protect its own freedom and
dignity. It was then debated how the printing of such
scandalous books should be prevented. Some were for
* Historical Account of the of William and Mary.
Present Convocation ; Burnet, ii. f Historical Account of the Pre-
58,; Kennet's History of the Reign sent Convocation; Kcnuet's History
WILLIAM AND MARY. 493
indictments, some for ecclesiastical censures.* In such chap.
deliberations as these week after week passed away. ^^^'
Not a single proposition tending to a Comprehension had 1^89.
been even discussed. Christmas was approaching. At
Christmas there was to be a recess. The Bishops were
desirous that, during the recess, a committee should sit
to prepare business. The Lower House refused to con-
sent.f That House, it was now evident, was fully de-
termined not even to enter on the consideration of any
part of the plan which had been framed by the Royal
Commissioners. The proctors of the dioceses were in a
worse humour than when they first came up to West-
minster. Many of them had probably never before passed
a week in the capital, and had not been aware how
great the difierence was between a town divine and a
country divine. The sight of the luxuries and comforts
enjoyed by the popular preachers of the city raised,
not unnaturally, some sore feeling in a Lincolnshire or
Caernarvonshire vicar who was accustomed to live as
hardly as a small farmer. The very circumstance that
the London clergy were generally for a comprehension
made the representatives of the rural clergy obstinate on
the other side. J The prelates were, as a body, sincerely
desirous that some concession might be made to the
nonconformists. But the prelates were utterly imable
• Historical Account of the the Church, hesides their rich pa-
Present Convocation ; Kennet. rishes in the City." The author of
t Historical Account of the this tract, once widely celebrated.
Present Convocation. was Thomas Long, proctor for the
X That there was such a jea- clergy of the diocese of Exeter. In
lousy as I have described is ad- another pamphlet, published at this
mitted in the pamphlet entitled time, the rural clergymen are said to
Vox Cleri. " Some country minis- have seen with an evil eye their
ters, now of the Convocation, do London brethren refreshing them-
now see in what great ease and selves with sack after preaching,
plenty the City ministers Uve, who Several satirical allusions to the
liave their readers and lecturers, and fable of the Town Mouse and the
frequent supplies, and sometimes Country Mouse will be found in the
tarry in the vestry till prayers be pamphlets of that winter.
ended, and have great dignities in
494 lUSTOBY 07 ENGLAND.
CHAP, to curb the mutinous democracy. They were few in
^^^' number. Some of them were objects of extreme dislike
1689. to the parochial clergy. The President had not the
full authority of a primate ; nor was he sorry to see those
who had, as he conceived, used him ill, thwarted and
The Con- mortified. It was necessary to yield. The Convocation
prorogued. ^^^ prorogued for six weeks. When those six weeb
had expired, it was prorogued again; and many years
elapsed before it was permitted to transact business.
So ended, and for ever, the hope that the Church
of England might be induced to make some concession
to the scruples of the nonconformists. A learned
and respectable minority of the clerical order relin-
quished that hope with deep regret. Yet in a very
short time even Burnet and Tillotson found reason to
believe that their defeat was really an escape, and
that victory would have been a disaster. A reform,
such as, in the days of Elizabeth, would have imited
the great body of English Protestants, would, in the
days of William, have alienated more hearts than it
would have conciliated. The schism which the oaths
had produced was, as yet, insignificant. Innovations
such as those proposed by the Royal Commissioners
would have given it a terrible importance. As yet a
layman, though he might think the proceedings of the
Convention unjustifiable, and though he might applaud
the virtue of the nonjuring clergy, stiU continued to sit
under the accustomed pulpit, and to kneel at the accus-
tomed altar. But if, just at this conjuncture, while
his mind was irritated by what he thought the wrong
done to his favourite divines, and while he was per-
haps doubting whether he ought not to follow them,
his ears and eyes had been shocked by changes in the
worship to which he was fondly attached, if the com-
positions of the doctors of tlie Jerusalem Chamber had
taken the place of the old collects, if he had seen clergy-
men without surplices carrying the chalice and the paten
WnXIAAI AND MARY. 495
up and down the aisle to seated communicants, the tie chap.
which bound him to the Established Church would have ^^^'
been dissolved. He would have repaired to some non- I689.
juiing assembly, where the service which he loved was
performed without mutilation. The new sect, which as
yet consisted almost exclusively of priests, would soon
have been swelled by numerous and large congregations ;
and in those congregations would have been found a
much greater proportion of the opulent, of the highly
descended, and of the highly educated, than any other
body of dissenters could show. The Episcopal schis-
matics, thus reinforced, would probably have been as
formidable to the new King and his successors as ever
the Puritan schismatics had been to the princes of the
House of Stuart. It is an indisputable and a most
instructive fact, that we are, in a great measure, in-
debted for the civil and religious liberty which we enjoy
to the pertinacity with which the High Church party,
in the Convocation of 1689, refused even to deliberate
on any plan of Comprehension.*
♦ Burnetii!. 33^ 34. The best nar- Laid; Vox Regis et Regni ; the
ratives of what passed in this Con- Healing Attempt; the Letter to a
Tocation are the Historical Account Friend, by Dean Prideaux; the Let-
appended to the second edition of ter from a Minister in the Country to
Vox Cleri, and the passage in Ken- a Member of the Convocation ; tlie
net's History to which I have al- Answer to the Merry Answer to Vox
ready referred the reader. The Cleri; the Remarks from the Country
former narrative is by a very high upon two Letters relating to tlie
chnrchroan, the latter by a very low Convocation; the Vindication of the
churchman. Those who are desirous Letters in answer to Vox Cleri ; the
of obtaining fuller information must Answer to the Country Minister's
consult the contemporary pamphlets. Letter. AH these tracts appeared
Among them are Vox Populi; Vox late in I689 or early in I69O.
496 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAP. While the Convocation was wrangling on one side of
^^' Old Palace Yard, the Parliament was wrangling even
1689. more fiercely on the other. The Houses, which had
The Par- separated on the twentieth of August, had met again on
meets. the nineteenth of October. On the day of meeting an
^SSSfitt.* important change struck every eye. Halifax was no
longer on the woolsack. He had reason to expect that
the persecution, from which in the preceding session he
had narrowly escaped, would be renewed. The events
which had taken place during the recess, and especially
the disasters of the campaign in Ireland, had furnished
his persecutors with fresh means of annoyance. His
administration had not been successful; and, though his
failure was partly to be ascribed to causes against which
no human wisdom could have contended, it was also
partly to be ascribed to the peculiarities of his temper
and of his intellect. It was certain that a large party
in the Commons would attempt to remove him ; and he
could no longer depend on the protection of his master.
It was natural that a prince who was emphatically
a man of action should become weary of a minister
who was a man of speculation. Charles, who went to
Council as he went to the play, solely to be amused,
was delighted with an adviser who had a hundred
pleasant and ingenious things to say on both sides of
every question. But William had no taste for dis-
• quisitions and disputations, however lively and subtle,
which occupied much time and led to no conclusion.
It was reported, and is not improbable, that on one
occasion he could not refrain from expressing in sharp
terms at the council board his impatience at what
WILLIAM AND MARY. 497
seemed to him a morbid habit of indecision.* Halifax, chap.
mortified by his mischances in public life, dejected by L
domestic calamities, disturbed by apprehensions of an 1689-
impeachment, and no longer supported by royal fa-
vour, became sick of public life, and began to pine for
the silence and solitude of his seat in Nottingham-
shire, an old Cistercian Abbey buried deep among
woods. Early in October it was known that he would
no longer preside in the Upper House. It was at the
same time whispered as a great secret that he meant
to retire altogether from business, and that he re-
tained the Privy Seal only till a successor should be
named. Chief Baron Atkyns was appointed Speaker of
the Lords.f
On some important points there appeared to be no Sappiics
difference of opinion in the legislature. The Commons ^°^^
unanimously resolved that they would stand by the
King in the work of reconquering Ireland, and that
they would enable him to prosecute with vigour the
war against France.J With equal imanimity they
voted an extraordinary supply of two millions.§ It
was determined that the greater part of this sum should
be levied by an assessment on real property. The rest
was to be raised partly by a poll tax, and partly by
new duties on tea, coffee and chocolate. It was pro-
posed that a hundred thousand pounds should be exacted
from the Jews ; and this proposition was at first favour-
ably received by the House : but difficulties arose.
The Jews presented a petition in which they declared
that they could not afford to pay such a simi, and that
* <' Halifax a en une reprimande f Clarendon's Diary, Oct. 10.
s^v^re publiquement dans le conseil 1689; Lords' Journals^ Oct. 1 9.
par le Prince d*Orange pour avoir I689.
trop balance." — Avaux to De % Commons* Journals^ Oct. 24*.
Croissy, Dublin^ June ^f. I689. I689.
^' His mercoria] wit/' says Burnet, § Commons' Journals, Nov. 2.
ii. 4., ''was not well suited with the l689.
King's phlegmJ*
VOL. III. K K
498 mSTOBY OF ekqlakd.
CHAP, they would rather leave the kingdom than stay there
^^' to be ruined. Enlightened politicians could not but
1689. perceive that special taxation, laid on a small class which
happens to be rich, unpopular and defenceless, is really
confiscation, and must ultimately impoverish rather
than enrich the State. After some discussion, the Jew
tax was abandoned.*
The Bill The Bill of Rights, which, in the last Session, had,
paBsel** after causing much altercation between the Houses,
been suflfered to drop, was again introduced, and was
speedily passed. The peers no longer insisted that
any person should be designated by name as successor
to the crown, if Mary, Anne and William should aU
die without posterity. During eleven years nothing
more was heard of the claims of the House of Bruns-
wick.
The Bill of Rights contained some provisions which
deserve special mention. The Convention had resolved
that it was contrary to the interest of the kingdom
to be governed by a Papist, but had prescribed no test
which could ascertain whether a prince was or was not
a Papist. The defect was now supplied. It was enacted
that every English sovereign should, in full Parliament,
and at the coronation, repeat and subscribe the Decla-
ration against Transubstantiation.
It was also enacted that no person who should marry
a Papist should be capable of reigning in England, and
that, if the Sovereign should marry a Papist, the sub-
ject should be absolved from allegiance. Burnet boasts
that this part of the Bill of Rights was his work.
He had little reason to boast: for a more wretched
specimen of legislative workmanship will not easily be
♦ Commons' Journals, Nov. 7. 1842. The petition of the Jews
19., Dec. SO. 1689. The rule of was not received, and is not men-
the House then was that no petition tioned in the Journals. But some-
could be received against the impo- thing may be learned about it from
sition of a tax. This rule was. Narcissus Luttrell's Diary and from
after a very hard fight, rescinded tn €frey*s Debates, Nov. I9. l689.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 499
found. In tiiie first place, no test is prescribed. Whe- chap.
ther the consort of a Sovereign has taken the oath of ^^'
supremacy, has signed the declaration against transub- ^^^^*
stantiation, has communicated according to the ritual
of the Church of England, are very simple issues of fact.
But whether the consort of a Sovereign is or is not
a Papist is a question about which people may argue
for ever. What is a Papist? The word is not a
word of definite signification either in law or in theo-
logy. It is merely a popular nickname, and means very
different things in different mouths. Is every person a
Papist who is willing to concede to the Bishop of Rome
a primacy among Christian prelates? If so, James the
First, Charles the First, Laud, Heyljm, were Papists.*
Or is the appellation to be confined to persons who
hold the ultramontane doctrines touching the authority
of the Holy See? K so, neither Bossuet nor Pascal
was a Papist.
What again is the legal effect of the words which
absolve the subject from his allegiance ? Is it meant
that a person arraigned for high treason may tender
evidence to prove that the Sovereign has married a
Papist ? Would Thistlewood, for example, have been
entitled to an acquittal, if he could have proved that
King George the Fourth had married Mrs. Fitzherbert,
and that Mrs. Fitzherbert was a Papist? It is not
easy to believe that any tribunal would have gone into
such a question. Yet to what purpose is it to enact
* Jameiy in the yery treatise in n^;otiation with Rome, says : '* So
which he tried to prove the Pope that upon the point the Pope was to
to he Antichrist, says : '< For my- content himself among us in Eng-
aelf^ if that were yet the question, land with a priority instead of a
I would with all my heart give my superiority over other Bishops, and
oonsent that the Bishop of Rome with a primacy instead of a supre.
ahoald have the 6rst seat" There macy in those parts of Christendom,
18 a remarkahle letter on this suhject which I conceive no man of learning
written hy James to Charles and and sohriety would have grudged to
Buckingham^ when they were in grant him.**
Spain. Heylyn^ speaking of Laud's
K K 2
500 mSTOBT OF EKGLAKD.
CHAP, that, in a certain case, the subject shall be absolved
L from his allegiance, if the tribunal before which he is
1689. tried for a violation of his allegiance is not to go into
the question whether that case has arisen?
The question of the dispensing power was treated
in a very diflferent manner, was fully considered, and
was finally settled in the only way in which it could
be settled. The Declaration of Right had gone no
further than to pronoxmce that the dispensing power,
as of late exercised, was illegal. That a certain dis-
pensing power belonged to the Crown was a propo-
sition sanctioned by authorities and precedents of
which even Whig lawyers could not speak without
respect; but as to the precise extent of this power
hardly any two jurists were agreed; and every attempt
to frame a definition had failed. At length by the Bill
of Rights the anomalous prerogative which had caused
so many fierce disputes was absolutely and for ever
taken away.*
Inquiry In the Housc of Commous there was, as might have
abM^^"^ been expected, a series of sharp debates on the misfor-
tunes of the autumn. The negligence or corruption
of the Navy Board, the frauds of the contractors, the
rapacity of the captains of the King's ships, the losses
of the London merchants, were themes for many keen
speeches. There was indeed reason for anger. A severe
inquiry, conducted by William in person at the Trea-
sury, had just elicited the fact that much of the salt with
which the meat furnished to the fleet had been cured
had been by accident mixed with g^s such as are used
for the purpose of making ink. The victuallers threw
the blame on the rats, and maintained that the pro-
visions thus seasoned, though certainly disagreeable to
the palate, were not injurious to health.f The Com-
* Stat 1 W. & M. sess. 2. c 2. t Treasury Minute Book, Not.
3. 1689.
WILLIAM AND MART. 501
mons were in no temper to listen to such excuses, chap.
Several persons who had been concerned in cheating L
the government and poisoning the sailors were taken 168.9.
into custody by the Seijeant.* But no censure was
passed on the chief offender, Torrington; nor does it
appear that a single voice was raised against him. He
had personal friends in both parties. He had many
popular qualities. Even his vices were not those which
excite public hatred. The people readily forgave a
courageous openhanded sailor for being too fond of his
bottle, his boon companions and his mistresses, and
did not sufficiently consider how great must be the
perils of a country of which the safety depends on a
man sunk in indolence, stupified by wine, enervated
by licentiousness, ruined by prodigcJity, and enslaved
by sycophants and harlots.
The sufferings of the army in Ireland called forth inquiry
strong expressions of sympathy and indignation. The ^^dw^ of
Commons did justice to the firmness and wisdom with ^« i™^
which Schomberg had conducted the most arduous of
all campaigns. That he had not achieved more was
attributed chiefly to the villany of the Commissariat.
The pestilence itself^ it was said, would have been no
serious calamity if it had not been aggravated by the
wickedness of man. The disease had generally spared
those who had warm garments and bedding, and had
swept away by thousands those who were thinly clad
and who slept on the wet ground. Immense sums had
been drawn out of the Treasury : yet the pay of the
troops was in arrear. Hundreds of horses, tens of
thousands of shoes, had been paid for by the public :
yet the baggage was left behind for want of beasts
to draw it; and the soldiers were marching barefoot
through the mire. Seventeen hundred pounds had
* Commons' Joumals and Grey's Debates^ Nov. 13, 14. 18^ 19* 23.
88. 1689.
KK 3
502 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, been charged to the government for medicines : yet the
^^' common drugs with which every apothecary in the
1689. smallest market town was provided were not to be
found in the plaguestricken camp. The cry against
Shales was loud. An address was carried to the throne,
requesting that he might be sent for to England, and
that his accounts and papers might be secured. With
this request the King readily complied; but the Whig
majority was not satisfied. By whom had Shales been
recommended for so important a place as that of Com-
missary General? He had been a favourite at White-
hall in the worst times. He had been zealous for the
Declaration of Indulgence. Why had this creature of
James been entrusted with the business of catering for
the army of William? It was proposed by some of
those who were bent on driving all Tories and Trim-
mers from office to ask His Majesty by whose advice
a man so undeserving of the royal confidence had been
employed. The most moderate and judicious Whigs
pointed out the indecency and impolicy of interrogating
the King, and of forcing him either to accuse his minis-
ters or to quarrel with the representatives of his people,
"Advise His Majesty, if you will," said Somers, "to
withdraw his confidence from the counsellors who re-
commended this unfortunate appointment. Such ad-
vice, given, as we should probably give it, unanimously,
must have great weight with him. But do not put to
him a question such as no private gentleman would wil-
lingly answer. Do not force him, in defence of his own
personal dignity, to protect the very men whom you
wish him to discard." After a hard fight of two days,
and several divisions, the address was carried by a hun-
dred and ninety five votes to a hundred and forty six.*
The King, as might have been foreseen, coldly refused
to turn informer; and the House did not press him
* Commons' Journals and Grey's Debates, November 26. and 27.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 503
further.* To another address, which requested that chap.
a Commission might be sent to examine into the state L
of things in Ireland, William returned a very gracious i^^9-
answer, and desired the Commons to name the Com-
missioners. The Commons, not to be outdone in cour-
tesy, excused themselves, and left it to His Majesty's
wisdom to select the fittest persons.f
In the midst of the angry debates on the Irish war a Reception
pleasing incident produced for a moment goodhumour fn^gj^'^
and unanimity. Walker had arrived in London, and
had been received there with boimdless enthusiasm.
His face was in every print shop. Newsletters de-
scribing his person and his demeanour were sent to
every comer of the kingdom. Broadsides of prose and
verse written in his praise were cried in every street.
The Companies of London feasted him splendidly in
their halls. The common people crowded to gaze on him
wherever he moved, and almost stifled him with rough
caresses. Both the Universities offered him the degree
of Doctor of Divinity. Some of his admirers advised
him to present himself at the palace in that military garb
in which he had repeatedly headed the sallies of his
fellow townsmen. But, with a better judgment than he
sometimes showed, he made his appearance at Hamp-
ton Court in the peaceful robe of his profession, was
most graciously received, and was presented with an
order for five thousand pounds. " And do not think.
Doctor," William said, with great benignity, "that I
offier you this sum as payment for your services. * I
assure you that I consider your claims on me as not
at all diminished." X
* Coromont' Journals, November Walker's Account of the Siege of
28., December 2. I689. Londonderry, licensed October 4.
t Commons' Journals and Grey's 1689; Narcissus Luttrell's Diary;
Debates, November SO., December Mr. J. Mackenzie's Narrative a
2. 1689. False Libel, a Defence of Mr. G.
J London Gazette, September Walker written by bis Friend in
2. 1689; Observations upon Mr. his Absence, I69O.
KK 4
504 HISTOBY OF ENGLAOT).
CHAP. It is true that amidst the general applause the voice
1 of detraction made itself heard. The deftaiders of
^6^9- Londonderry were men of two nations and of two
religions. During the siege, hatred of the Irishry had
held together all Saxons ; and hatred of Popery had held
together all Protestants. But, when the danger was
over, the Englishman and the Scotchman, the Episco-
palian and the Presbyterian, began to wrangle about the
distribution of praises and rewards. The dissenting
preachers, who had zealously assisted Walker in the
hour of peril, complained that, in the account which he
published of the siege, he had, though acknowledgmg
that they had done good service, omitted to mention
their names. The complaint was just; acnd, had it
been made in language becoming Christians and gen-
tlemen, would probably have produced a considerable
eflfect on the public mind. But Walker's accusers in
their resentment disregarded truth and decency, used
scurrilous language, brought calumnious accusations
which were triumphantly refuted, and thus threw away
the advantage which they had possessed. Walker
defended himself with moderation and candour. His
friends fought his battle with vigour, and retaliated
keenly on his assailants. At Edinburgh perhaps the
public opinion might have been against him. But in
London the controversy seems only to have raised his
character. He was regarded as an Anglican divine of
eminent merit, who, after having heroically defended
his religion against an army of Popish Rapparees, was
rabbled by a mob of Scotch Covenanters,*
* Walker'sTnie Account, 1689; by Mackenzie, I69O ; Wei wood's
An Apology for the Failures charged Mercurius Reformatus, Dec. 4. and
on the True Account, l689; Re- 11. I689. The Oxford editor of
flections on the Apology, I689 ; A Burnet's History expresses his sur-
Vindication of the True Account by prise at the silence which the Bishop
Walker, l689; Mackenzie's Nar- observes about Walker. In the
rative, I69O ; Mr. Mackenzie's Nar- Burnet MS. Harl. 6584. there is in
rative a False Libel, 169O; Dr. animated panegyric ou Walker, ^^lij
Walker's Invisible Champion foylcd that panegyric does not appear in
WILLIAM AND MABT. 505
He presented to the Commons a petition setting chap.
forth the destitute condition to which the widows and ^^'
orphans of some brave men who had fallen during the 1689.
siege were now reduced. The Commons instantly
passed a vote of thanks to him, and resolved to present
to the King an address requesting that ten thousand
pounds might be distributed among the families whose
sufferings had been so touchingly described. The next
day it was rumoured about the benches that Walker
was in the lobby. He was called in. The Speaker,
with great dignity and grace, informed him that the
House had made haste to comply with his request,
coitmiended him in high terms for having taken on
himself to govern and defend a city betrayed by its
proper governors and defenders, and charged him to
tell those who had fought under him that their fidelity
and valour would always be held in grateful remem-
brance by the Commons of England.*
About the same time the course of parliamentary Edmund
business was diversified by another curious and in- l*^®^-
teresting episode, which, like the former, sprang out of
the events of the Irish war. In the preceding spring,
when every messenger from Ireland brought evil ti-
dings, and when the authority of James was acknow-
ledged in every part of that kingdom, except behind
the ramparts of Londonderry and on the banks of
Lough Erne, it was natural that Englishmen should
remember with how terrible an energy the great
Puritan warriors of the preceding generation had
crushed the insurrection of the Celtic race. The names
of Cromwell, of Ireton, and of the other chiefs of the
conquering army, were in many mouths. One of those
chiefs, Edmund Ludlow, was still living. At twenty
two he had served as a volunteer in the parliamentary
the History, I am at a loss to ex- 18. and I9. 1689; and Grey'n
plain. Debates.
* Commons' Journals^ November
506 HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, army; at tliirty he had risen to the rank of Lieutenant
^^' General. He was now old; but the vigour of his
1689. mind was unimpaired. His courage was of the truest
temper; his understanding strong, but narrow. What
he saw he saw clearly: but he saw not much at a
glance. In an age of perfidy and levity, he had,
amidst manifold temptations and dangers, adhered
firmly to the principles of his youth. His enemies
could not deny that his life had been consistent, and
that with the same spirit with which he had stood
up against the Stuarts he had stood up against the
Cromwells. There was but a single blemish on his
fame: but that blemish, in the opinion of the great
majority of his countrymen, was one for which no
merit could compensate and which no time could
efface. His name and seal were on the death warrant
of Charles the First.
After the Restoration, Ludlow found a refiige on the
shores of the Lake of Geneva. He was accompanied
thither by another member of the High Court of Jus-
tice, John Lisle, the husband of that Alice Lisle whose
death has left a lasting stain on the memory of James
the Second. But even in Switzerland the regicides
were not safe. A large price was set on their heads;
and a succession of Irish adventurers, inflamed by na-
tional and religious animosity, attempted to earn the
bribe. Lisle fell by the hand of one of these assassins.
But Ludlow escaped unhurt from all the machinations
of his enemies. A small knot of vehement and deter-
mined Whigs regarded him with a veneration, which
increased as years rolled away, and left him almost the
only survivor, certainly the most illustrious survivor, of
a mighty race of men, the conquerors in a terrible civil
war, the judges of a king, the founders of a republic.
More than once he had been invited by the enemies of
the House of Stuart to leave his asylum, to become
their captain, and to give the signal for rebellion : but
WILLIAM AND MARY. 507
he had wisely refused to take any part in the desperate
enterprises which the Wildmans and Fergusons were
never weary of plaimmg.* 1689.
The Revolution opened a new prospect to him. The
right of the people to resist oppression, a right which,
during many years, no man could assert without ex-
posing himself to ecclesiastical anathemas and to civil
penalties, had been solemnly recognised by the Estates
of the realm, and had been proclaimed by Grarter King
at Arms on the very spot where the memorable scaffold
had been set up forty years before. James had not,
indeed, like Charles, died the death of a traitor. Yet
the punishment of the son might seem to differ from the
punishment of the father rather in degree than in
principle. Those who had recently waged war on a
tyrant, who had turned him out of his palace, who had
frightened him out of his country, who had deprived
him of his crown, might perhaps think that the crime
of going one step further had been sufficiently expiated
by thirty years of banishment. Ludlow's admirers,
some of whom appear to have been in high public situ-
ations, assured him that he might safely venture over,
nay, that he might expect to be sent in high command
to Ireland, where his name was still cherished by his
old soldiers and by their children.f He came; and early
in September it was known that he was in London. J
But it soon appeared that he and his friends had mis-
understood the temper of the English people. By all,
except a small extreme section of the Whig party, the
act, in which he had borne a part never to be forgotten,
was regarded, not merely with the disapprobation due
^ Wade*t ConfessioDy Harl. MS. verian, and one of King Charles the
6845. First his Judges, is arrived lately
f See the Preface to the First in this kingdom from Switzerland."
Edition of his Memoirs, Vevay, — Narcissus Luttrell's Diary, Sep-
169s. temher I689.
I " Colonel Ludlow, an old Oil-
508 niSTOBT OF ENGLAI7D.
CHAP, to a great violation of law and justice, but with horror
^^' such as even the Gunpowder Plot had not excited. The
1689. absurd and ahnost impious service which is still read m
our churches on the thirtieth of January had produced
in the minds of the vulgar a strange association of
ideas. The sujfferings of Charles were confounded with
the sufferings of the Redeemer of mankind; and every
regicide was a Judas, a Caiaphas or a Herod. It was
true that, when Ludlow sate on the tribunal in West-
minster Hall, he was an ardent enthusiast of twenty
eight, and that he now returned from exile a greyheaded
and wrinkled man in his seventieth year. Perhaps,
therefore, if he had been content to live in close retire-
ment, and to shun places of public resort, even zealous
Royalists might not have grudged the old RepubUcan
a grave in his native soil. But he had no thought
of hiding himself. It was soon rumoured that one of
those murderers, who had brought on England guilt,
for which she annually, in sackcloth and ashes, implored
God not to enter into judgment with her, was strutting
about the streets of her capital, and boasting that he
should ere long command her armies. His lodgings, it
was said, were the head quarters of the most noted
enemies of monarchy and episcopacy.* The subject
was brought before the House of Commons. The Tory
members called loudly for justice on the traitor. None
of the Whigs ventured to say a word in his defence.
One or two faintly expressed a doubt whether the fact
of his return had been proved by evidence such as would
warrant a parliamentary proceeding. The objection was
disregarded. It was resolved, without a division, that
the King should be requested to issue a proclamation
for the apprehending of Ludlow. Seymour presented
the address; and the King promised to do what was
asked. Some days however elapsed before the proda-
* Third Caveat against the Whigs, 1712.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 509
mation appeared.* Ludlow had time to make his escape, chap.
and again hid himself in his Alpine retreat, never agam L
to emerge. English travellers are still taken to see his 1689.
house close to the lake, and his tomb in a church
among the vineyards which overlook the little toAvn of
Vevay. On the house was formerly legible an inscrip-
tion purporting that to him to whom God is a father
every land is a fatherland f; and the epitaph on the
tomb still attests the feelings with which the stem old
Puritan to the last regarded the people of Ireland and
the House of Stuart.
Tories and Whigs had concurred, or had affected to violence
concur, in paying honour to Walker and in putting a ^^1^
brand on Ludlow. But the feud between the two par-
ties was more bitter than ever. The King had enter-
tained a hope that, during the recess, the animosities
which had in the preceding session prevented an Act of
Indemnity from passing would have been mitigated. On
the day on which the Houses reassembled, he had pressed
them earnestly to put an end to the fear and discord
which could never cease to exist, while great numbers
held their property and their liberty, and not a few even
their lives, by an uncertain tenure. His exhortation
proved of no effect. October, November, December
passed away; and nothing was done. An Indemnity
BiU indeed had been brought in, and read once ; but it
had ever since lain neglected on the table of the House. J
Vindictive as had been the mood in which the Whigs
had left Westminster, the mood in which they returned
was more vindictive still. Smarting from old sufferings,
drunk with recent prosperity, burning with implaeable
resentment, confident of irresistible strength, they were
• Commons' Journals^ November Addison, though a Whig, speaks of
6. and 8. l689; Grey's Debates; Ludlow in language which would
London Gazette, November 18. better have become a Tory, and
t ''Omne solum forti patria, sneers at the inscription as cant,
quia patris." See Addison's Travels. ^ Commons' Journals^ Nov. 1.
It 11 a remarkable circumstance that 7* I689.
510 mSTOBT OF ENGLAND.
€HAP not less rash and headstrong than in the days of the
^ ' Exclusion Bill. Sixteen hundred and eighty was come
1689. again. Again aU compromise was rejected. Again the
voices of the wisest and most upright friends of li-
berty were drowned by the clamour of hotheaded and
designing agitators. Again moderation was despised
as cowardice, or execrated as treachery. All the lesscHis
taught by a cruel experience were forgotten. The very
same men who had expiated, by years of humiliation,
of imprisonment, of penury, of exile, the folly witii
which they had misused the advantage given them by
the Popish plot, now misused with equal folly the ad-
vantage given them by the Revolution. The second
madness would, in all probability, like the first, have
ended in their proscription, dispersion, decimation, but
for the magnanimity and wisdom of that great prince,
who, bent on fulfilling his mission, and insensible alike
to flattery and to outrage, coldly and inflexibly saved
them in their own despite.
Impeach- It Seemed that nothing but blood would satisfy them.
^ The aspect and the temper of the House of Commons
reminded men of the time of the ascendency of Gates;
and, that nothing might be wanting to the resemblance,
Gates himself was there. As a witness, indeed, he could
now render no service : but he had caught the scent of
carnage, and came to gloat on the butchery in which
he could no longer take an active part. His loathsome
features were again daily seen, and his well kno\ni
" Ah Laard, ah Laard ! " was again daily heard in the
lobbies and in the gallery.* The House fell first on
the renegades of the late reign. Gf those renegades the
Earls of Peterborough and Salisbury were the highest
in rank, but were also the lowest in intellect : for Salis-
bury had always been an idiot ; and Peterborough had
long been a dotard. It was however resolved by the
• Roger North's Life of Dudley North.
mcnts.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 511
Commons that both had, by joining the Church of Rome, chap.
committed high treason, and that both should be im- L
peached.* A message to that effect was sent to the ^6^9-
Lords. Poor old Peterborough was instantly taken
into custody, and was sent, tottering on a crutch, and
wrapped up in woollen stuffs, to the Tower. The next
day Salisbury was brought to the bar of his peers. He
muttered something about his youth and his foreign
education, and was then sent to bear Peterborough com-
pany .f The Commons had meanwhile passed on to
offenders of humbler station and better understanding.
Sir Edward Hales was brought before them. He had
doubtless, by holding office in defiance of the Test Act,
incurred heavy penalties. But these penalties fell far
short of what the revengeful spirit of the victorious
party demanded ; and he was committed as a trai-
tor. J Then Obadiah Walker was led in. He behaved
with a pusillanimity and disingenuousness which de-
prived him of all claim to respect or pity. He pro-
tested that he had never changed his religion, that his
opinions had always been and stiU were those of some
highly respectable divines of the Church of England,
and that tiiere were points on which he differed from
the Papists. In spite of this quibbling, he was pro-
nounced guilty of high treason, and sent to prison. §
Castlemaine was put next to the bar, interrogated, and
committed under a warrant which charged him with
the capital crime of trying to reconcile the kingdom to
the Church of Rome.||
In the meantime the Lords had appointed a Com- Committee
mittee to inquire who were answerable for the deaths ^^^*^®'^-
* Commoiui' Journals^ Oct. 26. 1689; Wood's Athens Oxonien-
1689. sea; Dod's Church History, VIII.
t Lords' Jdamali, October 26. ii. 3.
and 27. 1689* || Commons' Journals^ October
t Commons' Journals, Oct 26. 28. I689. The proceedings will
1689. be found in the collection of State
§ Commons' JoumalB^ Oct. 26. Trials.
512 HISTOBT OF ENGLAM).
CHAP, of Russell, of Sidney, and of some other eminent Whigs.
!• Of this Committee, which was popularly called the
1689. Murder Committee, the Earl of Stamford, a Whig who
had been deeply concerned in the plots formed by his
party against the Stuarts, was chairman.* The books
of the Council were inspected : the clerks of the Council
were examined : some facts disgracefal to the Judges,
to the Solicitors of the Treasury, to the witnesses for the
Crown, and to the keepers of the state prisons, were
elicited: but about the packing of the juries no evi-
dence could be obtained. The Sheriffs kept their own
counsel. Sir Dudley North, in particular, underwent
a most severe cross examination with characteristic
clearness of head and firmness of temper, and steadily
asserted that he had never troubled himself about the
political opinions of the persons whom he put on any
panel, but had merely inquired whether they ^were sub-
stantial citizens. He was undoubtedly lying ; and so
some of the Whig peers told him in very plain words
and in very loud tones : but, though they were morally
certain of his guilt, they could find no proofs which
would support a criminal charge against him. The in-
delible stain however remains on his memory, and is
still a subject of lamentation to those who, while loath-
ing his dishonesty and cruelty, cannot forget that he
was one of the most original, profound and accurate
thinkers of his age.f
Halifax, more fortunate than Dudley North, was
completely cleared, not only from legal, but also from
moral guilt. He was the chief object of attack; and
yet a severe examination brought nothing to light that
was not to his honour. Tillotson was called as a wit-
ness. He swore that he had been the channel of com-
munication between Halifax and Russell when Russell
* Lords* JoumaU, Nov. 2. and f Lords* Journals, Dec 20. l68y;
6. 1689. Life of Dudley North.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 518
was a prisoner in the Tower. " My Lord Halifax/^ said chap.
the Doctor, " showed a very compassionate concern for ^^'
my Lord Russell; and my Lord Russell charged me i6^9.
with his last thanks for my Lord Halifax's humanity
and kindness." It was proved that the unfortunate
Duke of Monmouth had borne similar testimony to
Halifax's good nature. One hostile witness indeed was Maievo-
produced, John Hampden, whose mean supplications j"^**^
and enormous bribes had saved his neck fix)m the hal- Hampden.
ter. He was now a powerful and prosperous man : he
was a leader of the dominant party in the House of
CJommons; and yet he was one of the most unhappy
beings on the face of the earth. The recollection of
the pitiable figure which he had made at the bar of the
Old Bailey embittered his temper, and impelled him to
avenge hunself without mercy on those who had di-
rectly or indirectly contributed to his humiliation. Of
all the Whigs he was the most intolerant and the
most obstinately hostile to all plans of amnesty. The
consciousness that he had disgraced himself made him
jealous of his dignity and quick to take ofience. He
constantly paraded his services and his sufferings, as
if he hoped that this ostentatious display would hide
from others the stain which nothing could hide from
himself. Having during many months harangued ve-
hemently against Halifax in the House of Commons,
he now came to swear against Halifax before the Lords.
The scene was curious. The witness represented him-
self as having saved his country, as having planned the
Revolution, as having placed their Majesties on the
throne. He then gave evidence intended to show that
his life had been endangered by the machinations of the
Lord Privy Seal : but that evidence missed the mark
at which it was aimed, and recoiled on him from whom
it proceeded. Hampden was forced to acknowledge that
he had sent his wife to implore the intercession of the
man whom he was now persecuting. " Is it not strange,"
VOL. in. L L
514 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
asked Halifax, "that you should have requested the
good offices of one whose arts had brought your head
1689. into peril?" " Not at all," said Hampden; "to whcaa
was I to apply except to the men who were in power?
I applied to Lord Jeffreys: I applied to Father Petre;
and I paid them six thousand pounds for their 8e^
vices." " But did Lord Halifax take any money?"
" No: I cannot say that he did." " And, Mr. Hamp-
den, did not you afterwards send your wife to thank
him for his loudness?" "Yes: I believe I did," an-
swered Hampden; "but I know of no solid eflFects of
that kindness. If there were any, I should be obliged
to my Lord to tell me what they were." Disgraceful
as had been the appearance which this degenerate heir
of an illustrious name had made at the Old Bailey, the
appearance which he made before the Committee of
Murder was more disgraceful still.* It is pleasing to
know that a person who had been far more cruelly
wronged than he, but whose nature differed widely
from his, the nobleminded Lady Russell, remonstrated
against the injustice with which the extreme Whigs
treated Halifax.f
The malice of John Hampden, however, was un-
wearied and unabashed. A few days later, in a com-
mittee of the whole House of Commons on the state of
the nation, he made a bitter speech, in which he ascribed
all the disasters of the year to the influence of the men
who had, in the days of the Exclusion Bill, been
censured by Parliaments, of the men who had at-
tempted to mediate between James and William. The
King, he said, ought to dismiss from his counsels and
presence all the three noblemen who had been sent to
* The report is in the Lords' letter of Lady Montague to Ladj
Journals, Dec. 20. 1689- Hamp- Russell, dated Dec. 23. l689, three
den's examination was on the 18th days after the Committee of Murder
of November. had reported.
f This, I think, is clear from a
WILLIAM AND MABY. 515
negotiate with him at Hungerford. He went on to
speak of the danger of employing men of republican
principles. He doubtless alluded to the chief object ^^9*
of his implacable malignity. For Halifax, though from
temper averse to violent changes, was well known to
be in speculation a republican, and often talked, with
much ingenuity and pleasantry, against hereditary
monarchy. The only eflfect, however, of the reflection
now thrown on him was to call forth a roar of derision.
That a Hampden, that the grandson of the great
leader of the Long Parliament, that a man who boasted
of having conspired with Algernon Sidney against the
royal House, should use the word republican as a
term of reproach! When the storm of laughter had
subsided, several members stood up to vindicate the
accused statesmen. Seymour declared that, much as
he disapproved of the manner in which the adminis-
tration had lately been conducted, he could not con-
cur in the vote which John Hampden had proposed.
" Look where you will," he said, " to Ireland, to Scot-
land, to the navy, to the army, you will find abundant
proofs of mismanagement. K the war is still to be
conducted by the same hands, we can expect nothing
but a recurrence of the same disasters. But I am not
prepared to proscribe men for the best thing that they
ever did in tikeir lives, to proscribe men for attempting
to avert a revolution by timely mediation." It was
justly said by another speaker that Halifax and Not-
tingham had been sent to the Dutch camp because
they possessed the confidence of the nation, because
they were universally known to be hostile to the
dispensing power, to the Popish religion, and to the
French ascendency. It was at length resolved that the
King should be requested in general terms to find out
and to remove the authors of the late miscarriages.*
* Commoni^ Journals^ Dec. 14. 1689; Grey's Debates; Boyer's Life
of WUliam. \
LL 2
516 HISTORY OF ENGLAKD.
CHAP. A committee was appointed to prepare an Address.
L John Hampden was chairman, and drew up a re-
16*89. presentation in terms so bitter that, when it was
reported to the House, his own father expressed dis-
approbation, and one member exclaimed : ^^ This an
address! It is a libel." After a sharp debate, the
Address was reconunitted, and was not again men-
tioned.*
Indeed, the animosity which a large part of the
House had felt against Halifax was beginning to abate.
It was known that, though he had not yet formally
delivered up the Privy Seal, he had ceased to be a
confidential adviser of the Crown. The power which
he had enjoyed during "the first months of the reign
of William and Mary had passed to the more daring,
more unscrupulous and more practical Caermarthen,
against whose influence Shrewsbury contended in vain.
Personally Shrewsbury stood high in the royal favour:
but he was a leader of the Whigs, and, like all lead-
ers of parties, was frequently pushed forward against
his will by those who seemed to follow him. He was
himself inclined to a mild and moderate policy : but he
had not sufficient firmness to withstand the clamorous
importunity with which such politicians as John Howe
and John Hampden demanded vengeance on their
enemies. His advice had therefore, at this time, little
weight with his master, who neither loved the Tories
nor trusted them, but who was fully determined not to
proscribe them.
Meanwhile the Whigs, conscious that they had lately
sunk in the opinion both of the King and of the na-
tion, resolved on making a bold and crafty attempt to
become independent of both. A perfect account of
that attempt cannot be constructed out of the scanty
and widely dispersed materials which have come down
• * Commons' Journals, Dec. 21.; Grey's Debates; Oldmixon.
oration
WILLIAM AND MABT. 517
to US. Yet the story, as it has come down to us, is chap.
both interesting and instructive. ^ '
A bill for restoring the rights of those corporations i^-
which had surrendered their charters to the Crown T^eCor-
during the last two reigns had been brought into the bul
House of Commons, had been received with general
applause by men of all parties, had been read twice,
and had been referred to a select committee, of which
Somers was chairman. On the second of January
Somers brought up the report. The attendance of
Tories was scanty : for, as no important discussion was
expected, many country gentlemen had left town, and
were keeping a merry Christmas by the chimney fires
of their manor houses. The muster of zealous Whigs
was strong. As soon as the bill had been reported,
Sacheverell, renowned in the stormy parliaments of
the reign of Charles the Second as one of the ablest
and keenest of the Exclusionists, stood up and moved
to add a clause providing that every municipal func-
tionary who had in any maimer been a party to the
surrendering of the franchises of a borough should be
incapable for seven years of holding any office in that
borough. The constitution of almost every corporate
town in England had been remodelled during that hot
fit of loyalty which followed the detection of the Rye
House Plot ; and, in almost every corporate town, the
voice of the Tories had been for delivering up the
charter, and for trusting every thing to the paternal
care of the Sovereign. The effect of Sacheverell's clause,
therefore, was to make some thousands of the most
opulent and highly considered men in the kingdom in-
capable, during seven years, of bearing any part in the
government of the places in which they resided, and to
secure to the Whig party, during seven years, an over-
whelming influence in borough elections.
The minority exclaimed against the gross injustice of
passing, rapidly and by surprise, at a season when Lon-
L L 3
518 HISTORY OF SNaLAMA.
don was empty, a law of the highest importance, a law
which retrospectively inflicted a severe penalty on many
i6go. hundreds of respectable^ gentlemen, a law which would
call forth the strongest passions in every town from
Berwick to St. Ives, a law which must have a serious
effect on the composition of the House itself. Common
decency required at least an adjournment. An adjourn-
ment was moved : but the motion was rejected by a
hundred and twenty seven votes to eighty nine. The
question was then put that Sacheverell's clause should
stand part of the bill, and was carried by a hundred
and thirty three to sixty eight. Sir Robert Howard
immediately moved that every person who, being under
Sacheverell's clause disqualified for municipal office,
should presume to take any such office, should forfeit
five hundred poimds, and should be for life incapable
of holding any public employment whatever. The
Tories did not venture to divide.* The rules of the
House put it in the power of a minority to obstruct the
progress of a bill ; and this was assuredly one of the
very rare occasions on which that power would have
been with great propriety exerted. It does not appear
however that the parliamentary tacticians of that age
were aware of the extent to which a small nxmiber of
members can, without violating any form, retard the
course of business.
It was immediately resolved that the bill, enlarged
by SachevereU's and Howard's clauses, should be in-
grossed. The most vehement Whigs were bent on
finally passing it within forty eight hours. The Lords,
indeed, were not likely to regard it very favourably.
But it should seem that some desperate men were pre-
pared to ^vithhold the supplies till it should pass, nay,
even to tack it to the bUl of supply, and thus to place
the Upper House under the necessity of either consent-
* Commons' Journals, Jan. 2. 16^
WILLIAM AND MART. 519
ing to a vast proscription of the Tories or refusing to chap.
the government the means of carrying on the war.* ^^'
There were Whigs, however, honest enough to wish that 1^9^
fair play should be given to the hostile party, and pru-
dent enough to know that an advantage obtained by
violence and cunning could not be permanent. These
men insisted that at least a week should be suffered to
elapse before the third reading, and carried their point.
Their less scrupulous associates complained bitterly
that the good cause was betrayed. What new laws of
war were these? Why was chivalrous courtesy to be
shown to foes who thought no stratagem immoral, and
who had never given quarter? And what had been
done that was not in strict accordance with the law of
Parliament? That law knew nothing of short notices
and long notices, of thin houses and full houses. It
was the business of a representative of the people to
be in his place. If he chose to shoot and guzzle at
his country seat when important business was under
consideration at Westminster, what right had he to
murmur because more upright and laborious servants
of the public passed, in his absence, a bill which ap-
peared to them necessary to the public safety ? As
however a postponement of a few days appeared to be
inevitable, those who had intended to gain the victory
by stealing a march now disclaimed that intention.
They solemnly assured the King, who could not help
showing some displeasure at their conduct, and who
felt much more displeasure than he showed, that they
had owed nothing to surprise, and that they were quite
certain of a majority in the fullest house. Sacheve-
rell is said to have declared with great warmth that
• Thus, I think^ must be under- and then says : ** S'ils n'y mettent
•tood aome remarkable words in a des conditions que vous savez, c*est
letter written by William to Port- une bonne afiaire : mais les Wigges
land, on the day after Sacheverell's sont si glorieux d'avoir yaincu qu'ils
bold and unexpected move. William entreprendront tout."
calculates the amount of the supplies,
L L 4
BISTOBY OF ENGLAim.
he would stake liis seat on the issue, and that if he
found himself mistaken he would never show his face
1^- in Parliament again. Indeed, the general opinion at
first was that the Whigs would win the day. But it
soon became clear that the fight would be a hard one.
The mails had carried out along all the high roads the
tidings that, on the second of January, the Commons had
agreed to a retrospective penal law against the whole
Tory party, and that, on the tenth, that law would
be considered for the last time. The whole kingdom
was moved from Northumberland to Cornwall. A
hundred knights and squires left their halls hung with
mistletoe and holly, and their boards groaning with
brawn and plum porridge, and rode up post to town,
cursing the short days, the cold weather, the miry roads
and the viUanous Whigs. The Whigs, too, brought up
reinforcements, but not to the same extent; for the
clauses were generally unpopular, and not without
good cause. Assuredly no reasonable man of any
party wiU deny that the Tories, in surrendering to
the Crown all the municipal franchises of the realm,
and, with those franchises, the power of altering the
constitution of the House of Commons, committed a
great fault. But in that fault the nation itself had
been an accomplice. If the Mayors and Aldermen
whom it was now proposed to punish had, when the tide
of loyal enthusiasm ran high, sturdily refused to com-
ply with the wish of their Sovereign, they would have
been pointed at in the street as Roundhead knaves,
preached at by the Rector, lampooned in ballads, and
probably burned in effigy before their own doors. That
a community should be hurried into errors alternately
by fear of tyranny and by fear of anarchy is doubtless
a great evil. But the remedy for that evil is not to
punish for such errors some persons who have merely
erred with the rest, and who have since repented with
the rest. Nor ought it to have been forgotten that the
WILLIAM AND MABY. 521
offenders against whom Sacheverell's clause was directed chap.
had, in 1688, made large atonement for the misconduct ^^'
of which they had been guUty in 1683. They had, as a ^690.
class, stood up firmly against the dispensing power ; and
most of them had actually been turned out of their
municipal offices by Jaiaes for refusing to support his
policy. It is not strange therefore that the attempt to
inflict on all these men without exception a degrading
punishment should have raised such a storm of public
indignation as many Whig members of parliament were
unwilling to fece.
As the decisive conflict drew near, and as the muster
of the Tories became hourly stronger and stronger, the
uneasiness of Sacheverell and of his confederates in-
creased. They found that they could hardly hope for a
complete victory. They must make some concession.
They must propose to recommit the bill. They must
declare themselves willing to consider whether any dis-
tinction could be made between the chief offenders and
the multitudes who had been misled by evil example.
But as the spirit of one party fell the spirit of the other
rose. The Tories, glowing with resentment which was
but too just, were resolved to listen to no terms of
compromise.
The tenth of January came ; and, before the late day-
break of that season, the House was crowded. More
than a hundred and sixty members had come up to
town within a week. From dawn till the candles
had burned down to their sockets the ranks kept un-
broken order ; and few members left their seats except
for a minute to take a crust of bread or a glass of claret.
Messengers were in waiting to carry the result to
Kensington, where William, though shaken by a violent
cough, sate up till midnight, anxiously expecting the
news, and writing to Portland, whom he had sent on an
important mission to the Hague.
The only remaining account of the debate is defective
522 HISTORY or England.
CHAP, and confused. But from that account it appears that
^^' the excitement was great. Sharp things were said.
1690. One young Whig member used language so hot that he
was in danger of being called to the bar. Some re-
flections were thrown on the Speaker for allowing too
much licence to his own friends. But in truth it mat-
tered little whether he called transgressors to order or
not. The House had long been quite unmanageable ;
and veteran members bitterly regretted the old gravity
of debate and the old authority of the clwur.* That
Somers disapproved of the violence of the party to which
he belonged may be inferred, both frcm the whole
course of his public life, and from the very significant
fact that, though he had charge of the Corporation Bill,
he did not move the penal clauses, but left that imgra-
cious office to men more impetuous and less sagacious
than himself. He did not however abandon his allies
in this emergency, but spoke for them, and tried to make
the best of a very bad case. The House divided sevend
times. On the first division a hundred and seventy four
voted with Sacheverell, a himdred and seventy nine
against him. Still the battle was stubbornly kept up ;
but the majority increased from five to ten, from ten to
twelve, and from twelve to eighteen. Then at length,
after a stormy sitting of fourteen hours, the Whigs
yielded. It was near midnight when, to the unspeak-
able joy and triumph of the Tories, the clerk tore away
from the parchment on which the bill had been en-
grossed the odious clauses of Sacheverell and Howard-f
♦ <*The authority of the chair, l6fj. I have done my beat to frame
the awe and reverence to order, and an account of this contest oat of
the due method of debates being very defective material?. Burnet's
irrecoverably lost by the disorder narrative contains more blunden
and tumultuousness of the House." — than lines. He evidently tnuted to
Sir J. Trevor to the King, Appendix his memory, and was completely
to Dalrymple's Memoirs, Part ii. deceived by it My chief authori-
Book 4. ties are the Journals ; Grey's De-
t Commons' /ournals, Jan. 10. bates; William's Letters to Port-
WILLIAM AND MABY. 523
Emboldened by this great victory, the Tories made chap.
an attempt to push fonvard the Indemnity Bill which ^
had lain many weeks neglected on the table.* But i^-
the Whigs, notwithstanding their recent defeat, were ScI^ot-
Btill the majority of the House ; and many members, nity Bill,
who had shrunk from the impopularity which they
would have incurred by supporting the SachevereU
clause and the Howard clause, were perfectly willing to
assist in retarding the general pardon. They still pro-
pounded their favourite dilemma. How, they asked, was
it possible to defend this project of amnesty without
condemning the Revolution? Could it be contended
that crimes which had been grave enough to justify re-
sistance had not been grave enough to deserve punish-
ment ? And, if those crimes were of such magnitude that
they could justly be visited on the Sovereign whom the
Constitution had exempted from responsibility, on what
principle was immunity to be granted to his advisers
and tools, who were beyond all doubt responsible ? One
fiicetious member put this argument in a singular form.
He contrived to place in the Speaker's chair a paper
land; the Despatches of Van Citters; Basse estoit encore ensemhle. Ainsi
a Letter concerning the Disabling je ne vous puis escrire par cette
Clauses, lately ofiered to the House ordinaire Tissue de Taffaire. Les
of Commons, for regulating Corpo- previos questions les Tories Tont
rations, IG90 ; The True Friends emport^ de cinq yois. Ainsi tous
to Corporations vindicated, in an pouvez voir que la chose est bien dis-
answer to m letter concerning the put^e. J'ay si grand somiel, et mon
Disabling Clauses, I69O; and Some toux m'incomode que je ne vous en
Queries concerning the Election of saurez dire d'avantage. Jusques k
Members for the ensuing Parliament, mourir k vous."
1690. To this last pamphlet is ap- On the same night Van Citters
pended a list of those who voted for wrote to the States General The
the SachevereU Clause. See also debate, he said, had been very sharp.
Clarendon's Diary, Jan. 10. l6f^. The design of the ^Vhigs, whom he
and the Third Part of the Caveat calls the Presbyterians, had been
against the Whigs, 1712. William's nothing less than to exclude their
Letter of the 1 0th of January ends opponents from all offices, and to
thus. The news of tlie first divi- obtain for themselves the exclusive
aion only had reached Kensington, possession of power.
''II est k present onze eures de * Commons' Journals, Jan. 11.
nuit, et li dix eures la Chambre l6f^.
524 HISTOBY OF BNGLAKD.
CHAP, which, when examined, appeared to be a Bill of Indem-
^^' nity for King James, with a sneering preamble aboat
1690. the mercy which had, since the Revolution, been ex-
tended to more heinous offenders, and about the indul-
gence due to a King, who, in oppressing his people,
had only acted after the fashion of all Kings.*
On the same day on which this mock Bill of Indem-
nity disturbed the gravity of the Commons, it was moved
that the House should go into Committee on the real
Bill. The Whigs threw the motion out by a hundred
and ninety three votes to a hundred and fifty six.
They then proceeded to resolve that a bill of pains
and penalties against delinquents should be forthwith
brought in, and engrafted on the Bill of Indemnity .f
Ca«e of Sir A few hours later a vote passed that showed more
SawjCT. clearly than any thing that had yet taken place how
little chance there was that the public mind would
be speedily quieted by an amnesty. Few persons
stood higher in the estimation of the Tory party than
Sir Robert Sawyer. He was a man of ample fortmie
and aristocratical connections, of orthodox opinions and
regular life, an able and experienced lawyer, a well
read scholar, and, in spite of a little pomposity, a good
speaker. He had been Attorney General at the time of
the detection of the Rye House Plot : he had been em-
ployed for the Crown in the prosecutions which followed;
and he had conducted those prosecutions with an eager-
ness which would, in our time, be called cruelty by all
parties, but which, in his own time, and to his own
party, seemed to be merely laudable zeal. His friends
indeed asserted that he was conscientious even to scru-
pulosity in matters of life and death J: but this is an
eulogy which persons who bring the feelings of the nine-
• Narcissus Luttrell's Diary, j" Commons' Journals, Jan. I6.
Jan. 16. 1690 ; Van Citters to the l6f^.
States General, Jan. ff . J Roger North's Life of Guild-
ford.
WILLIAM AND MART. 525
teenth century to the study of the State Trials of the chap.
seventeenth century will have some difficulty in under- ^^'
standing. The best excuse which can be made for this 1690.
part of his life is that the stain of innocent blood was
common to him with almost all the eminent public
men of those evil days. When we blame him for prose-
cuting Russell, we must not forget that RusseU had
prosecuted Stafford.
Great as Sawyer's offences were, he had made great
atonement for them. He had stood up manfully against
Popery and despotism : he had, in the very presence
chamber, positively refused to draw warrants in contra-
vention of Acts of Parliament : he had resigned his lu-
crative office rather than appear in Westminster Hall as
the champion of the dispensing power : he had been the
leading counsel for the seven Bishops ; and he had, on
the day of their trial, done his duty ably, honestly, and
fearlessly. He was therefore a favourite with High
Churchmen, and might be thought to have fairly earned
his pardon from the Whigs. But the Whigs were not
in a pardoning mood; and Sawyer was now called to
account for his conduct in the case of Sir Thomas
Armstrong.
If Armstrong was not belied, he was deep in the
worst secrets of the Rye House Plot, and was one of
those who imdertook to slay the two royal brothers.
When the conspiracy was discovered, he fled to the
Continent and was outlawed. The magistrates of Leyden
were induced by a bribe to deliver him up. He was
hurried on board of an English ship, carried to London,
and brought before the King's Bench. Sawyer moved
the Court to award execution on the outlawry. Arm-
strong represented that a year had not yet elapsed since
he had been outlawed, and that, by an Act passed in the
reign of Edward the Sixth, an outlaw who yielded him-
self within the year was entitled to plead Not Guilty,
and to put himself on his country. To this it was
526 HISTORY 07 SHGLAITD.
CHAP, answered that Armstrong had not yielded himself^ that
L he had been dragged to tiixe bar a prisoner^ and that he
1690. had no right to claim a privilege which was evidently
meant to be given only to persons who voluntarily ren-
dered themselves up to public justice. Jeffreys and the
other judges unanimously overruled Armstrong's objec-
tion, and granted the award of execution. Then followed
one of the most terrible of the many terrible scenes
which, in those times, disgraced our Courts. The
daughter of the unhappy man was at his side. ^^ My
Lord," she cried out, " you wiU not murder my &ther.
This is murdering a man." " How now ?" rcmred the
Chief Justice. " Who is this woman ? Take her, MarshaL
Take her away." She was forced out, crying as she
went, " God Almighty's judgments light on you !" "God
Almighty's judgment," said Jeffreys, "will light on
traitors. Thank God, I am clamour proof." When she
was gone, her father again insisted on what he conceived
to be his right. " I ask," he said, " only the benefit of
the law." " And, by the grace of God, you shall have
it," said the judge. " Mr. Sheriff, see that execution be
done on Friday next. There is the benefit of the law
for you." On the following Friday, Armstrong was
hanged, drawn and quartered ; and his head was placed
over Westminster Hall.*
The insolence and cruelty of Jeffreys excite, even at
the distance of so many years, an indignation which
makes it difficult to be just to him. Yet a perfectly dis-
passionate inquirer may perhaps think it by no means
clear that the award of execution was illegal. There
was no precedent ; and the words of the Act of Edward
the Six^ may, without any straining, be construed as
the Court construed them. Indeed, had the penalty
been only fine or imprisonment, nobody would have
seen any thing reprehensible in the proceeding. But to
send a man to the gallows as a traitor, without confront-
* See the account of the proceedings in the colleetion of State Triali,
WILLIAM AND MART. 627
ing him with his accusers, without hearing his defence, ^^^^^•
solely because a timidity which is perfectly compatible L
with innocence has impelled him to hide himself, is ^^9^
surely a violation, if not of any written law, yet of those
great principles to which all laws ought to conform.
The case was brought before the House of Commons.
The orphan daughter of Armstrong came to the bar
to demand vengeance ; and a warm debate followed.
Sawyer was fiercely attacked and strenuously defended.
The Tories declared that he appeared to them to have
done only what, as counsel for the Crown, he was boimd
to do, and to have discharged his duty to God, to the
King, and to the prisoner. If the award was legal, no-
body was to blame ; and, if the award was illegal, the
blame lay, not with the Attorney General, but with the
Judges. There would be an end of all liberty of speech
at the bar, if an advocate was to be punished for making
a strictly regular application to a Court, and for arguing
that certain words in a statute were to be understood
in a certain sense. The Whigs called Sawyer murderer,
bloodhound, hangman. If the liberty of speech claimed
by advocates meant the liberty of haranguing men to
death, it was high time that the nation should rise up
and exterminate the whole race of lawyers. " Things
will never be well done," said one orator, "till some of
that profession be made examples." " No crime to de-
mand execution!" exclaimed John Hampden. "We
shall be told next that it was no crime in the Jews
to cry out ' Crucify him.' " A wise and just man
would probably have been of opinion that this was not
a case for severity. Sawyer^s conduct might have been,
to a certain extent, culpable : but, if an Act of Indem-
nity was to be passed at all, it was to be passed for the
benefit of persons whose conduct had been culpable.
The question was not whether he was guiltless, but
whether his guilt was of so peculiarly black a dye that
he ought, notwithstanding all his sacrifices and ser-
528 HISTORY OF BKGLAND.
vices, to be excluded by name fix)m the mercy which
was to be granted to many thousands of offenders.
1690. This question cahn and impartial judges would pro-
bably have decided in his favour. It was, however,
resolved that he should be excepted from the Indemnity,
and expelled from the House.*
On the morrow the Bill of Indemnity, now transformed
into a Bill of Pains and Penalties, was again discussed.
The Whigs consented to refer it to a Committee of the
whole House, but proposed to instruct the Committee to
begin its labours by making out a list of the offenders
who were to be proscribed. The Tories moved the
previous question. The House divided ; and the Whigs
carried their point by a hundred and ninety votes to a
himdred and seventy three.f
The King The King watched these events with painful anxiety.
^^^^ *** He was weary of his crown. He had tried to do justice
Holland, to both the Contending parties ; but justice would satisfy
neither. The Tories hated him for protecting the Dis-
senters. The Whigs hated him for protecting the
Tories. The amnesty seemed to be more remote than
when, ten months before, he first recommended it from
the throne. The last campaign in Ireland had been
disastrous. It might well be that the next campaign
would be more disastrous still. The malpractices, which
had done more than the exhalations of the marshes of
Dundalk to destroy the efficiency of the English troops,
were likely to be as monstrous as ever. Every part of
* Commons' Journals^ Jan. 20. la chose est cntourr^^ il n*y a point
l6g^ ; Grey's Debates, Jan. 18. d*aparence que cette affaire viene i
and 20. aucune conclusion. £t ainsi il se
f Commons' Journals, Jan. 21. pouroit que la cession fust fort
l6f|. On the same day William courte; n*ayant plus d*argeot k
wrote thus from Kensington to Port- esperer ; et les esprits s'aigrissent
land : '* C*est aujourd'hui le grand Tun contre I'autre de plus en plus.'**
jour k r^guard du Bill of Indemnite. Three days later Van Citters in-
Selon tout ce que je puis aprendre, il formed the States General that the
y aura beaucoup de chaleur, et rien excitement about the Bill of Indem-
ddterrainer ; et de la roani^re que nity was extreme.
WILLIAM AND MART. 629
the administration was thoroughly disorganized ; and
the people were surprised and angry because a foreigner,
newly come among them, imperfectly acquainted with ^^90.
them, and constantly thwarted by them, had not, in a
year, put the whole machine of government to rights.
Most of his ministers, instead of assisting him, were
trying to get up addresses and impeachments against
each other. Yet if he employed his own countrymen,
on whose fidelity and attachment he could rely, a
general cry of rage was set up by all the English fac-
tions. The knavery of the English Commissariat had
destroyed an army : yet a rumour that he intended to
employ an able, experienced, and trusty Commissary
from Holland had excited general discontent. The
King felt that he could not, while thus situated, render
any service to that great cause to which his whole soul
was devoted. Already the glory which he had won by
conducting to a successful issue the most important en-
terprise of that age was becoming dim. Even his friends
had begun to doubt whether he really possessed all that
sagacity and energy which had a few months before
extorted the unwilling admiration of his enemies. But
he would endure his splendid slavery no longer. He
would return to his native country. He would content
himself with being the first citizen of a commonwealth
to which the name of Orange was dear. As such, he
might still be foremost among those who were banded
together in defence of the liberties of Europe. As for
the turbulent and ungrateful islanders, who detested
him because he would not let them tear each other in
pieces, Mary must try what she could do with them.
She was bom on their soil. She spoke their language.
She did not dislike some parts of their Liturgy, which
they fancied to be essential, and which to him seemed
at best harmless. K she had little knowledge of politics
and war, she had what might be more useful, feminine
grace and tact, a sweet temper, a smile and a kind word
VOL. III. M M
680 HISTORY OF SNOLAND.
for every body. She might be able to oompoee tiie
disputes which distracted the State and the Church.
Holland, under his govemment, and England under
hers, might act cordially together against the c()nmi(m
enemy.
He u in- He sccrctly ordered preparations to be made for his
chM^*hi8 voyage. Having done this, he called together a few <rf
intention, hig chief couuscllors, and told them his purpose. A
squadron, he said, was ready to convey him to his
country. He had done with them. He hoped that
the Queen would be more successful. The ministen
were thunderstruck. For once all quarrels were sus-
pended. The Tory Caermarthen on one side, the
Whig Shrewsbury on the other, expostulated and im-
plored with a pathetic vehemence rare in the oon-
ferences of statesmen. Many tears were shed. At
length the King was induced to give up, at least for
the present, his design of abdicating the government.
But he announced another design which he was fuUy
determined not to give up. Since he was still to re-
main at the head of the English administration, he
would go himself to Ireland. He would try whether
the whole royal authority, strenuously exerted on the
spot where the fate of the empire was to be decided,
would suffice to prevent peculation and to maintain
discipline.*
The Whigs That he had seriously meditated a retreat to HoUand
gom^to lo^g continued to be a secret, not only to the multitude,
Ireland. \y^i gyen to the Qucen.f That he had resolved to take
the command of his army in Ireland was soon ru-
moured all over London. It was known that his camp
furniture was making, and that Sir Christopher Wren
was busied in constructing a house of wood which was
to travel about, packed in two waggons, and to be set
up wherever His Majesty might fix his quarters. J The
♦ Burnet, IL Sp. ; MS. Memoir f Burnet, iL 40.
written by the first Lord Lonidale | Narcissus LuttreH's Diary,
in the Mackintosh Papers. January and February.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 531
Whigs raised a violent outcry against the whole scheme.
Not knowing, or affecting not to know, that it had
been formed by William and by William alone, and 1690.
that none of his ministers had dared to advise him to
encounter the Irish swords and the Irish atmosphere,
the whole party confidently affirmed that it had been
suggested by some traitor in the cabinet, by some Tory
who hated the Revolution and all that had sprung
from the Revolution. Would any true friend have
advised His Majesty, infirm in health as he was, to
expose himself, not only to the dangers of war, but to
the malignity of a climate which had recently been
fetal to thousands of men much stronger than himself?
In private the King sneered bitterly at this anxiety for
his safety. It was merely, in his judgment, the anxiety
which a hard master feels lest his slaves should become
unfit for their drudgery. The Whigs, he wrote to
Portland, were afraid to lose their tool before they had
done their work. " As to their friendship," he added,
" you know what it is worth." His resolution, he told
his friend, was unalterably fixed. Every thing was at
stake ; and go he must, even though the Parliament
should present an address imploring him to stay.*
He soon learned that such an address would be im- He pro-
mediately moved in both Houses and supported by the pS-^^
whole strength of the Whig party. This intelligence ^^^^
satisfied him that it was time to take a decisive step.
* William to Portland, Jan. j^. peraonne n'ausant dire ses senti-
]690. ''Let Wiges ont peur de mens. £t Ton commence dejk k
me perdre trop tost^ avant qu'ila dire ouvertement que ce sont des
n'ayent fait avec moy ce qu'ila traitres qui m'ont conseille de pren-
Teulent : car, poor leur amiti^^ vous dre cette rAwlution."
MTez ce qa'd 7 a i compter ]&• Jan. ^, "Je n*ay encore rien
dessua en ce pays icy." dit," — he means to the Parliament,—
Jan. 1^. " Me voili Ic plus em- '' de mon voyage pour Tlrlande. Et
harass^ du monde, ne sachant quel je ne suis point encore d^termin^
parti prendre^ estant tot^ours per- si j'en parlerez : mais je craina que
auade que, sans que j'aille en Ir- nonobstant j*aurez une adresse
lande. Ton n'y faira rien qui vaille. pour n'y point aller ; ce qui m'cm-
Poor avoir da conseil en oette barasaera beaucoup, puis que c'est
affiure, je n'en ay point k attendre, une n^cessit^ absolae que j'y aille.**
u u 2
532 HISTORY OP BNGLANB.
CHAP. He would not discard the Whigs: but he would give
^^' them a lesson of which they stood much in need. He
1690. would break the chain in which they imagined that
they had him fast. He would not let them have the
exclusive possession of power. He would not let them
persecute the vanquished party. In their despite, he
would grant an amnesty to his people. In their despite,
he would take the conmiand of his army in Ireland. He
arranged his plan with characteristic prudence, firm-
ness, and secresy. A single Englishman it was neces-
sary to trust : for William was not sufficiently master
of our language to address the Houses fipom the throne
in his own words ; and, on very important occasions,
his practice was to write his speech in French, and to
employ a translator. It is -certain that to one person,
and to one only, the King confided the momentous re-
solution which he had takep; and it can hardly be
doubted that this person was Caermarthen.
On the twenty seventh of January, Black Rod
knocked at the door of the Commons, The Speaker
and the members repaired to the House of Lords. The
King was on the throne. He gave his assent to the
Supply Bill, thanked the Houses for it, announced his
intention of going to Ireland, and prorogued the Par-
liament. None could doubt that a dissolution would
speedily follow. As the concluding words, "I have
thought it convenient now to put an end to this session,"
were uttered, the Tories, both above and below the bar,
broke forth into a shout of joy. The King meanwhile
surveyed his audience from the throne with that bright
eagle eye which nothing escaped. He might be par-
doned if he felt some little vindictive pleasure in
annoying those who had cruelly annoyed him. " I saw,"
he wrote to Portland the next day, " faces an ell long.
I saw some of those men change colour with vexation
twenty times while I was speaking." *
•William to Portland, J^; 1690; Van Cittera to the Statei
WILLIAM AKD MARY. 533
A few hours after the prorogation, a hundred and chap.
fifty Tory members of Parliament had a parting dinner ^^'
together at the Apollo Tavern in Fleet Street, before ^^90.
they set out for their counties. They were in better ^^.^^^
temper with William than they had been since his
father in law had been turned out of Whitehall. They
had scarcely recovered from the joyful surprise with
which they had heard it announced from the throne
that the session was at an end. The recollection of
their danger and the sense of their deliverance were
still fresh. They talked of repairing to Court in a
body to testify their gratitude : but they were induced
to forego their intention ; and not without cause : for
a great crowd of squires after a revel, at which doubt-
less neither October nor claret had been spared, might
have caused some inconvenience in the presence chamber.
Sir John Lowther, who in wealth and influence was in-
ferior to no country gentleman of that age, was deputed
to carry the thanks of the assembly to the palace. He
spoke, he told the King, the sense of a great body of
honest gentlemen. They begged His Majesty to be
assured that they would in their counties do their best
to serve him; and they cordially wished him a safe
voyage to Ireland, a complete victory, a speedy return,
and a long and happy reign. During the following
week, many, who had never shown their faces in the
circle at Saint James's since the Revolution, went to kiss
the King's hand. So warmly indeed did those who had
hitherto been regarded as half Jacobites express their
General, same date; Evelyn's Diary ; point les Wiggs. Hs estoient tons
Lords' Joumali^ Jan. fij, I will fort sorpris quand je leur parlois,
quote William's owu words. '* Vous n'ayant communique mon dessin
Tairei mon harangue imprim^: qn'k une seule personne. Je vis
ainsi je ne vous en direi rien. £t des visages long comme un aune
pour lei raisons qui m'y ont oblig^, change de douleur vingt fois pen-
je les resenrerei k vous les dire dant que je parlois. Tous ces parti-
jusquet ^ vostre retour. II semble cularit^s jusques k vostre heureux
que les Tons en sont bien aise, mais retour."
MM 3
534 BISTOBY 01 BNGULAJBID.
approbation of the policy of the goyemment that the
thoroughgoing Jacobites were much diaguated, and
complained bitterly of tha strange bUndnesa which
seemed to have come on the saoa of the Church of
England.*
AU the acts of William^ at this time, mdicated his
determinaticm to restrain, steadily though gently, the
violence of the Whigs, and to ccmciliate, if poesible, the
good will of the Tories. Several persons whom the
Commons had thrown into priscm ^or treason were set
at liberty on bail.f The prelates who held that their
allegiance was still due to James were treated with a
tenderness rare in the history of revolutions. Within a
week after the prorogation, the first of February came,
the day on which those ecclesiastics who refused to take
the oath were to be finally deprived. Several of the
suspended clergy, after holding out till the last BKmient,
swore just in time to save themselves from b^gary.
But the Primate and five of his suffragans weire still
inflexible. They consequently forfeited their bishop-
rics ; but Sancroft was informed that the King had not
yet relinquished the hope of being able to make some
arrangement which might avert the necessity of ap-
pointing successors, and that the nonjuring prelates
might continue for the present to reside in their palaces.
Their receivers were appointed receivers for the Crown,
and continued to collect the revenues of the vacant
sees. J Similar indulgence was shown to some divines
of lower rank. Sherlock, in particular, continued,
after his deprivation, to live unmolested in his official
mansion close to the Temple Church.
Bissoiuiion And now appeared a proclamation dissolving the
SdwuTn. Parliament. The writs for a general election went out;
• Evelyn's Diary ; Clarendon's f Narcissus Luttreirs Diary.
Diary, Feb. 9« 1^90 ; Van Citters J Clarendon's Diary, Feb. 11.
to the States General, J^^ ; Lone- l690.
dale MS. quoted by Dalrymple.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 685
and soon every part of the kingdom was in a ferment, chap.
Van Citters, who had resided in England during many _ ^^*-
eventful years, declared that he had never seen London 1690.
more violently agitated.* The excitement was kept up
by compositions of all sorts, from sermons with sixteen
heads down to jingling street ballads. Lists of divi-
sions were, for the first time in our history, printed
and dispersed for the information of constituent bodies.
Two of these lists may still be seen in old libraries.
One of the two, circulated by the Whigs, contained
the names of those Tories who had voted against
declaring the throne vacant. The other, circulated by
the Tories, contained the names of those Whigs who
had supported the Sacheverell clause.
It soon became clear that public feeling had under-
gone a great change during the year which had elapsed
since the Convention had met ; and it is impossible to
deny that this change was, at least in part, the natural
consequence and the just punishment of the intempe-
rate and vindictive conduct of the Whigs. Of the city
of London they thought themselves sure. The Livery
had in the preceding year returned four zealous Whigs
without a contest. But all the four had voted for
the Sacheverell clause; and by that clause many of the
merchant princes of Lombard Street and Comhill, men
powerfiil in the twelve great companies, men whom the
goldsmiths followed humbly, hat in hand, up and down
the arcades of the Royal Exchange, would have been
turned with all indignity out of the Court of Aldermen
and out of the Common Council. The struggle was for
life or death. No exertions, no artifices, were spared.
William wrote to Portland that the Whigs of the City,
in their despair, stuck at nothing, and that, as they
went on, they would soon stand as much in need of an
Act of Indemnity as the Tories. Four Tories however
were returned, and that by so decisive a majority, that
* Van CiUom to the States General, February |f . I69O ; Evdjn's Diary.
M H 4
586 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, the Tory who stood lowest polled four hundred votes
L more than the Whig who stood highest.* The Sheriffs,
1690. desiring to defer as long as possible the triumph of
their enemies, granted a scrutiny. But, though the
majority was diminished, the result was not affected, f
At Westminster, two opponents of the Sacheverell
clause were elected without a contest.^ But nothing
indicated more strongly the disgust excited by the pro-
ceedings of the late House of Commons than what passed
in the University of Cambridge. Newton retired to
his quiet observatory over the gate of Trinity College.
Two Tories were returned by an overwhelming majo-
rity. At the head of the poll was Sawyer, who had,
but a few days before, been excepted from the Indem-
nity Bill and expelled from the House of Commons.
The records of the University contain curious proofs
that the unwise severity with which he had been
treated had raised an enthusiastic feeling in his favour.
Newton voted for Sawyer; and this remarkable fact
justifies us in believing that the great philosopher, in
whose genius and virtue the Whig party justly glories,
had seen the headstrong and revengeful conduct of
that party with concern and disapprobation.§
It was soon plain that the Tories would have a
majority in the new House of Commons. || All the
leading Whigs however obtained seats, with one excep-
tion. John Hampden was excluded, and was regretted
only by the most intolerant and unreasonable mem-
bers of his party. |
• WiUiara to Portland, -^^i Whig, 87- At the University every
1690 ; Van Citters to the States ^^^^ ^f^*^" his vote in writing.
General, March ^.; Narcissus One of the votes given on this occa-
Luttrell's Diary. s^^" " *" ^'^« following words,
t Van Citters, March U. IGU I " Henricus Jenkes, ex amore justi-
Narcissus LuttrelFs Diary. ^^^^ ^^^g*^ ^^'■"'" consultissimum Ro-
JVan Citters to the States bertum Sawyer."
General, March i}. I69O. ^ « ^f^.^^^^^f. ^rl'"" ®^^
§ The votes were for Sawyer ^^j^^^J' ^arch ^f. I69O.
165, for Finch 141, for Bennet, 4 ^^ '^ amusing to see how
whom I suppose to have been a absurdly foreign pamphleteers, igno-
WILLIAM AND MABY* 537
The King meanwhile was making, in ahnost every chap.
department of the executive government, a change L
corresponding to the change which the general election ^^90.
was making in the composition of the legislature. ^^^
Still, however, he did not think of forming what is now executive
called a ministry. He still reserved to himself more menal!'
especially the direction of foreign affairs; and he super-
intended with minute attention aU the preparations for
the approaching campaign in Ireland. In his confiden-
tial letters he complained that he had to perform, with
little or no assistance, the task of organizing the disor-
ganized military establishments of the kingdom. The
work, he said, was heavy; but it must be done; for
everything depended on it.* In general, the govern-
ment was still a government by independent depart-
ments; and in ahnost every department Whigs and
Tories were still mingled, though not exactly in the
old proportions. The Whig element had decidedly
predominated in 1689. The Tory element predomi-
nated, though not very decidedly, in 1690.
Halifax had laid down the Privy Seal. It was
rant of the real state of things in et a prodult tant de raisonnemens
England, exaggerated the import- et de speculations, n'estoit que pour
ance of John Hampden, whose name exclure Embden. Mais s'il estoit
they could not spell. In a French si adroit et si z^le, comment as-tu
Dialogue between William and the pu trouver le moyen de le faire
Ghost of Monmouth, William says, eXclure du nombre des deputez?"
" Entre ces membres de laChambie To this very sensible question the
Basse ^toit un certain homme hardy. King answers, '' II m'a fallu faire
opini&tre, et xel^ k Texc^s pour d'^tranges manoeuvres pour en venir
■a creauce ; on Tappdle Embden, k bout." — L'Ombre de Monmouth,
egalement dangereux par son esprit I69O.
et par son credit. • . . Je ne trouvay * " A present tout d^pendra d*un
point de chemin plus court pour bon succes en Irlande; et k quoy
me d^livrer de oette traverse que de il faut que je m'aplique entiere-
le parlement, en convoquer ment pour r^gler le mieux que je
un autre, et empescher que cethom- puis toutte chose Je vous
me, qui me faisoit tant d'ombrages, asseure que je n*ay pas pen sur les
ne fust nomm^ pour un des deputez bras, estant aussi mal assiste que je
au nouvel parlement." " Ainsi," guig." — William to Portland, ^"J*-^-
says the Ghost, ''cette cassation de i^qq, ^ '
parlement qui a fait tant de bruit,
538
HISTOBY OP ENGLANP.
Caermar-
then chief
minister.
offered to Chesterfield, a Tory who had Toted in the
Convention for a Regency. But Chesterfield refused
to quit his country house and gardens in Derl^shiie
for the Court and the Council Chamber; and the
Privy Seal was put into Commission.* Caerma^
then was now the chief adviser of the Crown on aQ
matters relating to the internal administration and to
the management of the two Houses of Parliameot
The white staff, and the immense power which acccxn-
panied the white staff, William was still determined
never to entrust to any subject. Caermarthen there-
fore continued to be Lord President; but he took pos-
session of a suite of apartments in Saint James's Palace
which was considered as peculiarly beloBging to the
Prime Mmister.f He had, during the preceding year,
pleaded ill health as an excuse for seldom appearing
at the Council Board; and the plea was not without
foundation : for his digestive organs had some morbid
peculiarities which puzzled the whole College of Physi-
cians : his complexion was livid : his frame was meagre;
and his face, handsome and intellectual as it -was, had a
haggard look which indicated the restlessness of pain
as well as the restlessness of ambition.J As soon,
however, as he was once more minister, he applied
himself strenuously to business, and toiled, every day,
and all day long, with an energy which amazed every
body who saw his ghastly countenance and tottering
gait.
Though he could not obtain for himself the office of
♦ Van Citters, Feb. ^. l6|J;
Memoir of the Earl of Chesterfield,
by himself; Halifax to Chester-
field, Feb. 6. ; Chesterfield to Ha-
lifax, Feb. 8. The editor of the
letters of the second Earl of Ches-
terfield, not allowing for the change
of style, has misplaced this corre-
spondence by a year.
t Van Citters to the Stales Ge-
neral, Feb. l^. 1690.
X A strange peculiarity of bis
constitution is mentioned in an ac-
count of him which was published
a few months after his death. See
the volume entitled '* LiTes and
Characters of the most lUostrioas
Persons, British and Foreign, who
died in the year 171S."
WILLIAM AND liABY. 539
Lord Treasurer, his influence at the Treasury was great, chap.
Monmouth, the First Commissioner, and Delamere, the ^^*
Chancellor of the Exchequer, two of the most violent ^^*
Whigs in England, quitted their seats. On this, as on
many other occasions, it appeared that they had no-
thing but their Whiggism in common. The volatile
Monmouth, sensible that he had none of the qua-
lities of a financier, seems to have taken no personal
offence at being removed from a place which he never
ought to have occupied. He thankfully accepted a
pension, which his profuse habits made necessary to
him, and still continued to attend councils, to frequent
the Court, and to discharge the duties of a Lord of the
Bedchamber.* He also tried to make himself useftil in
military business, which he understood, if not well, yet
better than most of his brother nobles ; and he professed,
during a few months, a great regard for Caermarthen.
Delamere wm in a very different mood. It was in vain
that his services were overpaid with honours and riches.
He was created Earl of Warrington. He obtained a
grant of all the lands that could be discovered belong-
ing to Jesuits in five or six counties. A demand made
by hhn on account of expenses incurred at the time of
the Revolution was allowed; and he carried with him
into retirement as the reward of his patriotic exertions
a large sum, which the State could ill spare. But his
anger was not to be so appeased ; and to the end of his
life he continued to complain bitterly of the ingratitude
with which he and his party had been treated.f
* Monmouth't pension and the the Treasury Letter Book of I69O
good understanding between him and that Dekniere continued to dun the
Uie Court are mentioned in a letter government for money after his re-
from a Jacobite agent in England, tirement. As to his general character
which is in the Archives of the it would not be safe to trust the re-
French War Office. The date is presentations of satirists. But his
April -fg, 1690. own writings^ and the admissions of
t The grants of land obtained the divine who preached his funeral
by Delamere are mentioned by sermon, show that his temper was
Narcissus LuttielL It appears from not the most gentle. Clarendon
640 HISTORY OF BNGULND.
Sir John Lowther became First Lord of the Trea-
sury, and was the person on whom Caermarthen chiefly
1690. relied for the conduct of the ostensible business of the
Swther. House of Commons. Lowther was a man of ancient
descent, ample estate, and great parliamentary interest
Though not an old man, he was an old senator: for
he had, before he was of age, succeeded his father as
knight of the shire for Westmoreland. In truth the
representation of Westmoreland was ahnost as much
one of the hereditaments of the Lowther feunily as
Lowther Hall. Sir John's abilities were respectaUe;
his manners, though sarcastically noticed in contem-
porary lampoons as too formal, were eminently cour-
teous : his personal courage he was but too ready to
prove: his morals were irreproachable: his time was
divided between respectable labours and respectable
pleasures : his chief business was to attend the House
of Commons and to preside on the Bench of Justice : his
favourite amusements were reading and gardening. In
opinions he was a very moderate Tory. He was attached
to hereditary monarchy and to the Established Church:
but he had concurred in the Revolution : he had no
misgivings touching the title of William and Mary : he
had sworn allegiance to them without any mental re-
servation; and he appears to have strictly kept his
oath. Between him and Caermarthen there was a close
connection. They had acted together cordially in the
Northern insurrection ; and they agreed in their poli-
tical views, as nearly as a very cunning statesman
and a very honest country gentleman could be ex-
pected to agree.* By Caermarthen's influence Low-
remarks (Dec. 17. 1688) that a for satire:
little thing sufficed to put Lord De- «His boding looks a mind distracted
lamere into a passion. In the poem show;
entitled the King of Hearts, Dela- And envy sits engraved upon his brow."
mere is described as— ♦My notion of Lowther s cha-
** A restless malecontent even when pre. racter has been chiefly formed from
ferred.* j^q papers written by himself, one
His countenance furnished a subject of which has been printed^ though
WILLIAM AND MARY. 541
ther was now raised to one of the most important places chap.
in the kingdom. Unfortunately it was a place requir- L
ing qualities very different from those which suffice to ^^9^
make a valuable county member and chairman of quar-
ter sessions. The tongue of the new First Lord of the
Treasury was not sufficiently ready, nor was his temper
sufficiently callous for his post. He had neither adroit-
ness to parry, nor fortitude to endure, the gibes and
reproaches to which, in his new character of courtier
and placeman, he was exposed. There was also some-
thing to be done which he was too scrupulous to do;
something which had never been done by Wolsey or
Burleigh; something which has never been done by
any English statesman of our generation ; but which,
from the time of Charles the Second to the time of
George the Third, was one of the most important
parts of the business of a minister.
The history of the rise, progress, and decline of par- Rise and
liamentary corruption in England still remains to be JJ p^"
written. No subject has called forth a greater quantity Hamentary
of eloquent vituperation and stinging sarcasm. Three b'Sig-*^"
generations of serious and of sportive writers wept and **°^
laughed over the venality of the senate. That venality
was denounced on the hustings, anathematized from the
pulpit, and burlesqued on the stage ; was attacked by
Pope in brilliant verse, and by Bolingbroke in stately
prose, by Swift with savage hatred, and by Gay with
festive malice. The voices of Tories and Whigs, of
Johnson and Akenside, of Smollett and Fielding, con-
tributed to swell the cry. But none of those who railed
or of those who jested took the trouble to verify the
pheenomena, or to trace them to the real causes.
I believe not published. A copy of when he was First Lord of the
the other is among the Mackintosh Treasury, he accepted a challenge
MSS. Something I have taken from a custom house officer whom
from contemporary satires. That he had dismissed. 1'here was a
Lowther was too ready to expose duel ; and Lowther was severely
bis life in private encounters is wounded. This event is mentioned
sufficiently proved by the fact that, in Luttrell's Diary, April I69O.
542 HISTORY 07 ENGLAND.
Sometimes the evil was imputed tx> the depravity of
a particular minister: but, when he had been dnren
169a from power, and when those who had most loudly
accused him governed in his stead, it was found tint
the change of men had produced no change of system.
Sometimes the evil was imputed to the degeneracy of
the national character. Luxury and cupidity, it wm
said, had produced in our country the same eflBect
which they had produced of old in the Roman repaUic
The modem Englishman was to the Englishman of
the sixteenth century what Verres and Curio were to
Dentatus and Fabricius. Those who held this Isn-
guage were as ignorant and shallow as people generally
are who extol the past at the expense of the present
A man of sense would have perceived that, if the Eng-
lish of the time of Greorge iJbe Second had really been
more sordid and dishonest than their foreferfJiers, the
deterioration would not have shown itself in one place
alone. The progress of judicial venality and of offidil
venality woidd have kept pace with the progress of
parliamentary venality. But nothing is more certain
than that, while the legislature was becoming more and
more venal, the courts of law and the public offices
were becoming purer and purer. The representatives
of the people were undoubtedly more mercenary in the
days of Hardwicke and Pelham than in the days of the
Tudors. But the Chancellors of the Tudors took plate
and jewels from suitors without scruple or shame; and
Hardwicke would have committed for contempt any
suitor who had dared to bring him a present. The
Treasurers of the Tudors raised princely fortunes by
the sale of places, titles, and pardons; and Pelham
would have ordered his servants to turn out of his
house any man who had offered him money for a
peerage or a commissionership of customs. It is evi-
dent, therefore, that the prevalence of corruption in
the Parliament cannot be ascribed to a general depra-
WILLIAM AND lAABY. 543
vation of morals. The taint was local: we must look
for some local cause; and such a cause will without
difficulty be found. 1690.
Under our ancient sovereigns the House of Commons
rarely interfered with the executive administration.
The Speaker was charged not to let the members meddle
with matters of State. If any gentleman was very
troublesome he was cited before the Privy Council,
interrogated, reprimanded, and sent to meditate on his
undutiful conduct in the Tower. The Commons did
their best to protect themselves by keeping their deli-
berations secret, by excluding strangers, by making it a
crime to repeat out of doors what had passed within
doors. But these precautions were of small avail. In
so large an assembly there were always talebearers
ready to carry the evil report of their brethren to the
palace. To oppose the Court was therefore a service
of serious danger. In those days, of course, there was
little or no buying of votes. For an honest man was
not to be bought ; and it was much cheaper to intimi-
date or to coerce a knave than to buy him.
For a very different reason there has been no direct
buying of votes within the memory of the present
generation. The House of Commons is now supreme
in the State, but is accountable to the nation. Even
those members who are not chosen by large constituent
bodies are kept in awe by public opinion. Every thing
is printed : every thing is discussed : every material
word uttered in debate is read by a million of people
on the morrow. Within a few hours after an important
division, the lists of the majority and the minority are
scanned and analysed in every town from Plymouth to
Inverness. K a name be found where it ought not to
be, the apostate is certain to be reminded in sharp
language of the promises which he has broken and of
the professions which he has belied. At present, there-
fore, the best way in which a government can secure
544 HISTORY OF BNGLAND.
CHAP, the support of a majority of the representative body is
L by gaining the confidence of the nation.
i6qo. But between the time when our Parliaments ceased
to be controlled by royal prerogative and the time when
they began to be constantly and effectually controlled
by public opinion there was a long interval. Aftar
the Restoration, no government ventured to return to
those methods by which, before the civil war, the free-
dom of deliberation had been restrained. A m^iber
could no longer be called to account for his harangues
or his votes. He might obstruct the passing of bills
of supply : he might arraign the whole foreign policv
of the country : he might lay on the table articles of
impeachment against all the chief ministers ; and he
ran not the smallest risk of being treated as Morrice
had been treated by Elizabeth, or Eliot by Charles
the First. The senator now stood in no awe of the
Court. Nevertheless all the defences behind which
the feeble Parliaments of the sixteenth century had en-
trenched themselves against the attacks of prerogative
were not only still kept up, but were extended and
strengthened. No politician seems to have been aware
that these defences were no longer needed for their
original purpose, and had begun to serve a purpose very
different. The rules which had been originally designed
to secure faithful representatives against the displeasure
of the Sovereign, now operated to secure unfaithful
representatives against the displeasure of the people,
and proved much more effectual for the latter end than
they had ever been for the former. It was natural, it
was inevitable, that, in a legislative body emancipated
from the restraints of the sixteenth century, and not
yet subjected to the restraints of the nineteenth century,
in a legislative body which feared neither the King nor
the public, there should be corruption.
The plague spot began to be visible and palpable in the
days of the Cabal. Clifford, the boldest and fiercest of
WILLIAM AND BIART. 545
the wicked Five, had the merit of discovering that a chap.
noisy patriot, whom it was no longer possible to send to L
prison, might be turned into a courtier by a goldsmith's ^^90.
note. Clifford's example was followed by his successors.
It soon became a proverb that a Parliament resembled
a pump. Often, the wits said, when a pump appears to
be dry, if a very small quantity of water is poured in,
a great quantity of water gushes out : and so, when a
Parliament appears to be niggardly, ten thousand pounds
judiciously given in bribes will often produce a million in
supplies.. The evil was not diminished, nay, it was aggra-
vated, by that Revolution which freed our country from
so many other evils. The House of Commons was now
more powerftil than ever as against the Crown, and yet
was not more strictly responsible than formerly to the
nation. The government had a new motive for buying
the members ; and the members had no new motive for
refusing to sell themselves. William, indeed, had an
aversion to bribery : he resolved to abstain from it ;
and, during the first year of his reign, he kept his reso-
lution. Unhappily the events of that year did not
encourage him to persevere in his good intentions. As
soon as Caermarthen was placed at the head of the inter-
nal administration of the realm, a complete change took
place. He was in truth no novice in the art of pur-
chasing votes. He had, sixteen years before, succeeded
Clifford at the Treasury, had inherited Clifford's tactics,
had improved upon them, and had employed them to
an extent which would have amazed the inventor.
From the day on which Caermarthen was called a
second time to the chief direction of affairs, parliament-
ary corruption continued to be practised, with scarcely
any intermission, by a long succession of statesmen, till
the close of the American war. Neither of the great
English parties can justly charge the other with any
peculiar guilt on this account. The Tories were the
first who introduced the system and the last who clung
VOL. in. N N
546 HISTOEY OF BNGLAJfD.
CHAP, to it : but it attained its greatest vigour in the time of
^^' Whig ascendency. The extent to which parliamentary
1690. support was bartered for money cannot be with any
precision ascertained. But it seems probable that the
number of hirelings was greatly exaggerated by vulgar
report, and was never large, though often sufficient to
turn the scale on important divisions. An unprincipled
minister eagerly accepted the services of these merce-
naries. An honest minister reluctantly submitted^ finr
the sake of the commonwealth, to what he considered as &
shameful and odious extortion. But during many years
every minister, whatever his personal character might be^
consented, willingly or unwillingly, to manage the Par-
liament in the only way in which the Parliament could
then be managed. It at length became as notorious that
there was a market for votes at the Treasury as that
there was a market for cattle in Smithfield. Numerous
demagogues out of power declaimed against this vik
traffic : but every one of those demagogues, as soon as he
was in power, found himself driven by a kind of fatality
to engage in that traffic, or at least to connive at it.
Now and then perhaps a man who had romantic notions
of public virtue refused to be himself the paymaster of
the corrupt crew, and averted his eyes while his less
scrupulous colleagues did that which he knew to be
indispensable, and yet felt to be degrading. But the
instances of this prudery were rare indeed. The
doctrine generally received, even among upright and
honourable politicians, was that it was shameful to re-
ceive bribes, but that it was necessary to distribute
them. It is a remarkable fact that the evil reached the
greatest height during the administration of Henry
Pelham, a statesman of good intentions, of spotless
morals in private life, and of exemplary disinterested-
ness. It is not difficult to guess by what arguments he
and other well meaning men, who, like him, followed
the fashion of their age, quieted their consciences. No
mLLUM AND MARY, 547
casuist, however severe, has denied that it may be a chap.
duty to give what it is a crime to take. It was in- L
famous in Jeffreys to demand money for the lives of i^^^*
the unhappy prisoners whom he tried at Dorchester
and Taunton. But it was not infamous, nay, it was
laudable, in the kinsmen and friends of a prisoner to
contribute of their substance in order to make up a
purse for Jeffreys. The Sallee rover, who threatened
to bastinado a Christian captive to death unless a ran-
som was forthcoming, was an odious ruffian. But to
ransom a Christian captive from a Sallee rover was,
not merely an innocent, but a highly meritorious act.
It would be improper in such cases to use the word
corruption. Those who receive the filthy lucre are
corrupt already. He who bribes them does not make
them wicked : he finds them so ; and he merely prevents
their evil propensities from producing evil effects. And
might not the same plea be urged in defence of a
minister who, when no other expedient would avail,
paid greedy and lowminded men not to ruin their
country ?
It was by some such reasoning as this that the
scruples of William were overcome. Honest Burnet,
with the uncourtly courage which distinguished him,
ventured to remonstrate with the King. " Nobody,"
William answered, " hates bribery more than I. But
I have to do with a set of men who must be managed
in this vile way or not at aU. I must strain a point;
or the country is lost."*
It was necessary for the Lord President to have in sir John
the House of Conmions an agent for the purchase of '^"^®^-
members ; and Lowther was both too awkward and too
scrupulous to be such an agent. But a man in whom
craft and profligacy were united in a high degree was
without difficulty found. This was the Master of the
Bolls, Sir John Trevor, who had been Speaker in the
• Burnet^ ii. 76,
N N 2
548 HI8T0BT OF BNGLAISD.
CHAP, single Parliament held by James. High as Trevor
^^' had risen in the world, there were people who could
1690. still remember him a strange looking lawyer's clerk in
the Inner Temple. Indeed, nobody who had ever seen
him was likely to forget him. For his grotesque
features and lus hideous squint were far beyond the
reach of caricature. His parts, which were quick and
vigorous, had enabled him early to master the science
of chicane. Gambling and betting were his amuse-
ments; and out of these amusements he contrived to
extract much business in the way of his profession.
For his opinion on a question arising out of a wager
or a game at chance had as much authority as &
judgment of any court in Westminster Hall. He soon
rose to be one of the boon companions whom Jef-
freys hugged in fits of maudlin friendship over the
bottle at night, and cursed and reviled in court on the
morrow. Under such a teacher, Trevor rapidly became
a proficient in that peculiar kind of rhetoric which had en-
livened the trials of Baxter and of Alice Lisle. Report
indeed spoke of some scolding matches between the
Chancellor and his friend, in which the disciple had
been not less voluble and scurrilous than the master.
These contests, however, did not take place till the
younger adventurer had attained riches and dignities
such that he no longer stood in need of the patronage
which had raised him.* Among High Churchmen
Trevor, in spite of his notorious want of principle, had
at this time a certain popularity, which he seems to
have owed chiefly to their conviction that, however in-
sincere he might be in general, his hatred of the dis-
senters was genuine and hearty. There was little doubt
that, in a House of Commons in which the Tories had a
majority, he might easily, with the support of the Court,
be chosen Speaker. He was impatient to be again in
his old post, which he well knew how to uiake one of
* Roger North's Life of Guildford.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 549
the most lucrative in the kingdom; and he willingly chap.
undertook that secret and shameful office for which _^^'
Lowther was altogether unqualified. 1690.
Richard Hampden was appointed ChanceUor of the
Exchequer. This appointment was probably intended
as a mark of royal gratitude for the moderation of his
conduct, and for the attempts which he had made to
curb the violence of his Whig friends, and especially of
his son.
Godolphin voluntarily left the Treasury; why, we are Godoiphin
not informed. We can scarcely doubt that the dissolu- '^'"^
tion and the result of the general election must have
given him pleasure. For his political opinions leaned
towards Toryism; and he had, in the late reign, done
some things which, though not very heinous, stood in
need of an indemnity. It is probable that he did not
think it compatible with his personal dignity to sit at
the board below Lowther, who was in rank his inferior.*
A new Commission of Admiralty was issued. At Changes at
the head of the naval administration was placed Thomas raftj^*™'"
Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, a high bom and high bred
man, who had ranked among the Tories, who had voted
for a Regency, and who had married the daughter of
Sawyer. That Pembroke's Toryism, however, was not
of a narrow and illiberal kind is sufficiently proved
by the fact that, immediately after the Revolution, the
Essay on the Human Understanding was dedicated to
him by John Locke, in token of gratitude for kind
offices done in evil times.f
Nothing was omitted which could reconcile Torring-
ton to tWs change. For, though he had been found
* Tin some yean after this time f The dedication, however^ was
the First Lord of the Treasury thought too laudatory. " The only
was always the man of highest rank thing/' Mr. Pope used to say, ** he
at the Board. Thus Monmouth, could never forgive his philoso-
Delamere and Godolphin took their phic master was the dedication to
places according to the order of the Essay." — Ruffhead's Life of
precedence in which they stood as Pope,
peers*
N N 3
550 HISTORY 07 ENGLAm).
CHAP, an incapable administrator, he still stood bo lugh in
^^' general estimation as a seaman that the government
1690. was unwilling to lose his services. He was assured
that no slight was intended to him. He could not
serve his country at once on the ocean and at West-
minster; and it had been thought less difficult to sup-
ply his place in his office than on the deck of his fli^
ship. He was at first very angry, and actually laid
down his commission : but some concessions were made
to his pride: a pension of three thousand pounds g
year and a grant of ten thousand acres of crown land
in the Peterborough level were irresistible baits to his
cupidity ; and, in an evil hour for England, he con-
sented to remain at the head of the naval force, on
which the safety of her coasts depended.*
Changes In While thesc chaugcs were making in the offices round
mUsbM of Whitehall, the Commissions of Lieutenancy all over the
Lieute- kingdom were revised. The Tories had, during twelve
months, been complaining that their share in the go-
vernment of the districts in which they lived bore no
proportion to their number, to their wealth, and to the
consideration which they enjoyed in society. They now
regained with great delight their former position in
their shires. The Whigs raised a cry that the Bang
was foully betrayed, and that he had been induced by
evil counsellors to put the sword into the hands of men
who, as soon as a favourable opportunity oflfered, would
turn the edge against himself. In a dialogue which
was believed to have been written by the newly created
Earl of Warrington, and which had a wide circula-
tion at the time, but has long been forgotten, the
Lord Lieutenant of a county was introduced express-
ing his apprehensions that the majority of his deputies
were traitors at heart.f But nowhere was the excite-
* Van Citters to the States Gene- f The Dialogue between a Lord
ral, ^St^^ 1690 ; Narcissus Lut- Lieutenant and one of his Depatiei
trell's Dhiry ; Treasury Letter Book, ^'^^ "^^ ^ ^o""^ »" ^« colkction
Feb. 4. 1 dii. ^^ Warrington's writings which wm
nancy.
'WILLIAM A27D MABT. 551
mcnt produced by the new distribution of power so chap
great as in the capital. By a Commission of Lieu- L
tenancy which had been issued immediately after the ^^•
Revolution, the train bands of the City had been put
under the command of stanch Whigs. Those powerful
and opulent citizens whose names were omitted com-
plained that the list was filled with elders of Puritan
congregations, with Shaftesbury's brisk boys, with Rye
House plotters, and that it was scarcely possible to find,
mingled with that multitude of fanatics and levellers, a
single man sincerely attached to monarchy and to the
Church. A new Commission now appeared framed by
Caermarthen and Nottingham. They had taken counsel
with Compton, the Bishop of the diocese; and Compton
was not a very discreet adviser. He had originally been
a High Churchman and a Tory. The severity with which
he had been treated in the late reign had transformed
him into a Latitudinarian and a rebel; and he had now,
from jealousy of Tillotson, turned High Churchman and
Tory again. The Whigs complained that they were
ungratefully proscribed by a government which owed
its existence to them; that some of the best friends of
King William had been dismissed with contumely to
make room for some of his worst enemies, for men who
were as unworthy of trust as any Irish Rapparee, for
men who had delivered up to a tyrant the charter and
the immemorial privileges of the City, for men who had
made themselves notorious by the cruelty with which
they had enforced the penal laws against Protestant
dissenters, nay, for men who had sate on those juries
which had found Russell and Cornish guilty.* The
published in l694>, under the sane- the Rapparecs, a Poem, I691. The
tion, as it should seem^ of his far poet says of one of the new civic
mily. functionaries :
• Van Citters to the SUtes Ge- «Soon hu pretence to conadence we can
neral, March U. AprU ^ I69O ; ^ ^ rout.
V V 4
552 msTOBT or bngland.
CHAP, discontent was so great that it seemed^ daring a short
L time, likely to cause pecuniary embarrassment to the
1690. State. The supplies voted by the late Parliament came
in slowly. The wants of the public service were press-
ing. In such circumstances it was to the citizens of
London that the government always looked for help;
and the government of William had hitherto looked es-
pecially to those citizens who professed Whig opinions.
Things were now changed. A few eminent Whigs, in
their first anger, sullenly refused to advance money.
Nay, one or two unexpectedly withdrew considerable
sums from the Exchequer.'*^ The financial difficulties
might have been serious, had not some wealthy Tories,
who, if Sacheverell's clause had become law, i^ould have
been excluded from all municipal honours, offered the
Treasury a hundred thousand pounds down, and pro-
mised to raise a still larger sum.f
While the City was thus agitated, came a day ap-
pointed by royal proclamation for a general fast. The
reasons assigned for this solemn act of devotion were
the lamentable state of Ireland and the approaching
departure of the Bang, Prayers were ofiered up for the
safety of His Majesty's person and for the success of his
arms. The churches of London were crowded. The
most eminent preachers of the capital, who were, with
scarcely an exception, either moderate Tories or mode-
rate Whigs, exerted themselves to calm the public mind,
and earnestly exhorted their flocks not to withhold,
at this great conjuncture, a hearty support from the
prince, with whose fate was bound up the fate of the
whole nation. Burnet told a large congregation from
the pulpit how the Greeks, when the Great Turk was
preparing to besiege Constantinople, could not be per-
suaded to contribute any part of their wealth for the
• Treasury Minute Book, Feb. 5. f Van Citters, FeK ^J. Mar. {i.
165§. Mar. Jf. 1690.
WILLIAM AND HABT^ 553
common defence, and how bitterly they repented of chap.
their avarice when they were compelled to deliver up ^^'
to the victorious infidels the treasures which had been 1690.
refused to the supplications of the last Christian em-
peror.*
The Whigs, however, as a party, did not stand in need Temper of
of such an admonition. Grieved and angry as they were, ^* ^***^
they were perfectly sensible that on the stability of the
throne of William depended all that they most highly
prized. What some of them might, at this conjuncture,
have been tempted to do if they could have found an-
other leader, if, for example, their Protestant Duke, their
King Monmouth, had still been living, may be doubted.
But their only choice was between the Sovereign whom
they had set up and the Sovereign whom they had pulled
down. It would have been strange indeed if they had
taken part with James in order to punish William, when
the worst feult which they imputed to William was that
he did not participate in the vindictive feeling with which
they remembered the tyranny of James. Much as they
disUked the Bill of Indemnity, they had not forgotten
the Bloody Circuit. They therefore, even in their ill
humour, continued true to their own King, and, while
grumbling at him, were ready to stand by him against
his adversary with their lives and fortunes.f
There were indeed exceptions; but they were very Dealings
few; and they were to be found almost exclusively in wbig»*
two classes, which, though widely differing from each ^^^^g*
other in social position, closely resembled each other in shrews-
laxity of principle. All the Whigs who are known to Fer^n.
have trafficked with Saint Germains belonged, not to
the main body of the party, but either to the head or to
the tail. They were either patricians high in rank
and office, or caitiffs who had long been employed in
^ Van Citters, March ^J. I69O. Court of Aldermen.
The aennon ia extant. It was j Welwood's Mercuriua Reforma-
preached at Bow Church before the tus, Feb. 12. I69O.
554 mSTOBT OM emoland.
the foulest drudgery of faction. To the former daas
belonged Shrewsbury. Of the latter class the most
1690. remarkable specimen was Kobert Ferguson. From
the day on which the Convention Parliament was dis-
solved, Shrewsbury began to waver in his allegianoe:
but that he had ever wavered was not, till long after,
suspected by the public. That Ferguson had, a few
months after the Kevolution, become a Airious Jaco-
bite, was no secret to any body, and ought not to ha?e
been matter of surprise to any body. For his apostasy
lie could not plead even the miserable excuse that Ik
had been neglected. The ignominious services whidi
he had formerly rendered to his party as a spy, a
raiser of riots, a dispenser of bribes, a writer of Ubds,
a prompter of false witnesses, had been rewarded only
too prodigally for the honour of the new government.
That he should hold any high office was of course
impossible. But a sinecure place of five hundred a
year had been created for him in the department of
the Excise. He now had what to him was opulence:
but opulence did not satisfy him. For money indeed
he had never scrupled to be guilty of fraud aggravated
by hypocrisy : yet the love of money was not his
strongest passion. Long habits had developed in him
a moral disease from which people who make political
agitation their calling are seldom wholly free. He
could not be quiet. Sedition, from being his business,
had become his pleasure. It was as impossible for him
to live without doing mischief as for an old dram
drinker or an old opium eater to live without the daily
dose of poison. The very discomforts and hazards of
a lawless life had a strange attraction for him. He
could no more be turned into a peaceable and loyal
subject than the fox can be turned into a shepheni's
dog, or than the kite can be taught the habits of the bam
door fowl. The Red Indian prefers his hunting ground
to cultivated fields and stately cities : the gipsy, shel-
WILLIAM AND MART. 555
tered by a commodious roof, and provided with meat in chap.
due season, still pines for the ragged tent on the moor ^^'
and the meal of carrion; and even so Ferguson became 1690.
weary of plenty and security, of his salary, his house,
his table and his coach, and longed to be again the presi-
dent of societies where none could enter without a pass-
word, the director of secret presses, the distributor of
inflammatory pamphlets; to see the walls placarded
with descriptions of his person and offers of reward for
his apprehension ; to have six or seven names, with a
different wig and cloak for each, and to change his
lodgings thrice a week at dead of night. His hostility
was not to Popery or to Protestantism, to monarchical
government or to republican government, to the House
of Stuart or to the House of Nassau, but to whatever
was at the time established.
By the Jacobites this new ally was eagerly welcomed. Hopes of
They were at that moment busied with schemes in which b^^e^*^
the help of a veteran plotter was much needed. There
had been a great stir among them from the day on
which it had been announced that William had deter-
mined to take the command in Ireland; and they were
all looking forward with impatient hope to his depar-
ture. He was not a prince against whom men lightly
venture to set up a standard of rebellion. His courage,
his sagacity, the secrecy of his counsels, the success
which had generally crowned his enterprises, overawed
the vulgar. Even his most acrimonious enemies feared
him at least as much as they hated him. While he was
at Kensington, ready to take horse at a moment's no-
tice, malecontents who prized their heads and their
estates were generally content to vent their hatred by
drinking confusion to his hooked nose, and by squeezing
with significant energy the orange which was his em-
blem. But their courage rose when they reflected that
the sea would soon roll between him and our island. In
the military and political calculations of that age, thirty
556
HISTOBT OV BKOLAKD.
CHAP.
XV.
1690.
Meeting of
the new
Parlia-
ment
Settlement
of the re-
Tenue.
lela^es of water were as important as three hundred
leagues now are. The winds and waves frequently in-
terrupted all communication between England and Ire-
land. It sometimes happened that, during a fortnight
or three weeks, not a word of intelligence firom Londm
reached Dublin. Twenty English counties might be
up in arms long before any rumour that an insorrectioii
was even apprehended could reach Ulster. Early in
the spring, therefore, the leading malecontents assem-
bled in London for the purpose of concerting an exten-
sive plan of action, and corresponded assiduously both
with France and with Ireland.
Such was the temper of the English factions when,
on the twentieth of March, the new Parliament met
The first duty which the Commons had to perform
was that of choosing a Speaker. Trevor was proposed
by Lowther, was elected without opposition, and was
presented and approved with the ordmary ceremoniaL
The King then made a speech in which he especially
recommended to the consideration of the Houses two
important subjects, the settling of the revenue and the
granting of an amnesty. He represented strongly the
necessity of despatch. Every day was precious, the
season for action was approaching. " Let not us," he
said, " be engaged in debates while our enemies are ia
the field."*
The first subject which the Commons took into
consideration was the state of the revenue. A great
part of the taxes had, since the accession of William
and Mary, been collected imder the authority of Acts
passed for short terms, and it was now time to determme
on a permanent arrangement. A list of the salaries and
pensions for which provision was to be made was laid
before the House; and the amount of the sums thus
expended called forth very just complaints from the
independent members, among whom Sir Charles Sedley
• Commons* Journals, March 20, 21, 22. l6fj.
WILLIAM AND MART. 557
distinguished himself by his sarcastic pleasantry. A chap.
clever speech which he made against the placemen ^^'
stole into print and was widely circulated: it has 1690.
since been often republished; and it proves, what his
poems and plays might make us doubt, that his con-
temporaries were not mistaken in considering him as
a man of parts and vivacity. Unfortunately the ill
humour which the sight of the Civil List caused eva-
porated in jests and invectives without producing any
refonn.
The ordinary revenue by which the government had
been supported before the Revolution had been partly he-
reditary, and had been partly drawn from taxes granted
to each sovereign for life. The hereditary revenue had
passed, with the crown, to William and Mary. It was
derived from the rents of the royal domains, from fees,
from fines, from wine licenses, from the first fruits and
tenths of benefices, from the receipts of the Post Office,
and from that part of the excise which had, immediately
after the Restoration, been granted to Charles the Second
and to his successors for ever in lieu of the feudal
services due to our ancient kings. The income from
all these sources was estimated at between four and
five hundred thousand pounds.*
Those duties of excise and customs which had been
granted to James for life had, at the close of his reign,
yielded about nine hundred thousand pounds annuaUy.
William naturally wished to have this income on the
same terms on which his uncle had enjoyed it; and his
ministers did their best to gratify his wishes. Lowther
moved that the grant should be to the King and Queen
for their joint and separate lives, and spoke repeatedly
and earnestly in defence of this motion. He set forth
William's claims to public gratitude and confidence;
the nation rescued from Popery and arbitrary power;
* Commons' Journals, March 28. I69O, and March 1. and March 20.
i682.
553 HISTOBY OF BNGLAND.
CHAP, the Church delivered from persecution; the constita-
^^' tion established on a firm basis. Would the Commons
^^90. deal grudgingly with a prince who had done more for
England than had ever been done for her by any of
his predecessors in so short a time, with a prince who
was now about to expose himself to hostile weapons
and pestilential air in order to preserve the English
colony in Ireland, with a prince who was prayed fop
in every comer of the world where a congregation rf
Protestants could meet for the worship of Grod?* Bm
on this subject Lowther harangued in vain. Whigs
and Tories were equally fixed in the opinion that the
liberality of Parliaments had been the chief cause of
the disasters of the last thirty years; that to the
liberality of the Parliament of 1660 was to be ascribed
the misgovemment of the Cabal ; that to the liberality
of the Parliament of 1685 was to be ascribed the
Declaration of Indulgence, and that the Parliamoit
of 1690 would be inexcusable if it did not profit by a
long, a painful, an unvarying experience. After much
dispute a compromise was made. That portion of the
excise which had been settled for life on James, and
which was estimated at three hundred thousand pounds
a year, was settled on William and Mary for their joint
and separate lives. It was supposed that, with the here-
ditary revenue, and with three hundred thousand a year
more from the excise, their Majesties would have, inde-
pendent of parliamentary control, between seven and
eight hundred thousand a year. Out of this income was
to be defrayed the charge both of the royal household
and of those civil offices of which a list had been laid
before the House. This income was therefore called
the Civil List. The expenses of the royal household
are now entirely separated from the expenses of the
civil government ; but, by a whimsical perversion, the
name of Civil List has remained attached to that
♦ Grey's Debates, March 27. and 28. I69O.
WILLIAM AND MABT, 559
portion of the revenue which is appropriated to the ex- chap.
penses of the royal household. It is still more strange ^^
that several neighbouring nations should have thought ^690.
this most unmeaning of all names worth borrowing.
Those duties of customs which had been settled for life
on Charles and James successively, and which, in the
year before the Revolution, had yielded six hundred
thousand pounds, were granted to the Crown for a term
of only four years.*
William was by no means well pleased with this
arrangement. He thought it unjust and ungrateful
in a people w;ho8e liberties he had saved to bind him
over to his good behaviour. " The gentlemen of
England," he said to Burnet, "trusted Bang James
who was an enemy of their religion and of their
laws ; and they will not trust me by whom their
religion and their laws have been preserved." Burnet
answered very properly that there was no mark of
personal confidence which His Majesty was not entitled
to demand, but that this question was not a question
of personal confidence. The Estates of the Realm
-wished to establish a general principle. They wished
to set a precedent which might secure a remote pos-
terity against evils such as the indiscreet liberality of
former Parliaments had produced. " From those evils
Your Majesty has delivered this generation. By ac-
cepting the gift of the Commons on the terms on
which it is ofiered Your Majesty will be also a deliverer
of fiiture generations." William was not convinced ;
but he had too much wisdom and selfcommand to give
way to his ill humour; and he accepted graciously what
he could not but consider as ungraciously given.f
The Civil List was charged with an annuity of twenty Provigion
thousand pounds to the Princess of Denmark, in addi- ^^li^l^ ^f
♦ Commons' Jommtli, Mar. 28. Van Citterg to the States General, Denmark.
1690. A very clear and exact April ^V ^^9^'
account of the way in which the j Burnet, ii. 43.
rerenue was settled was sent by
560 mSTOftT OF ENQLAIA.
CHAP, tion to an annuity of thirty thousand pounds which had
^^' been settled on her at the time of her marriage. This
1690. arrangement was the result of a compromise which had
been effected with much difficulty and after many irri-
tating disputes. The King and Queen had never, smoe
the commencement of their reign, been on very good
terms with their sister. That William should have
been disliked by a woman who had just sense enough to
perceive that his temper was sour and his manners le-
pulsive, and who was utterly incapable of appreciating
his higher qualities, is not extraordinary. But Mary
was made to be loved. So lively and intelligent a
woman could not indeed derive much pleasure fix>m the
society of Anne, who, when in good humour, was meekly
stupid, and, when in bad humour, was sulkily stujad.
Yet the Queen, whose kindness had endeared her to her
humblest attendants, would hardly have made an enemy
of one whom it was her duty and her interest to make
a friend, had not an influence strangely potent and
strangely malignant been incessantly at work to divide
the Royal House against itself. The fondness of the
Princess for Lady Marlborough was such as, in a
superstitious age, would have been ascribed to some
talisman or potion. Not only had the friends, in their
confidential intercourse with each other, dropped all
ceremony and all titles, and become plain Mrs. Morley
and plain Mrs. Freeman ; but even Prince George, who
cared as much for the dignity of his birth as he was
capable of caring for any thing but claret and calvered
salmon, submitted to be Mr. Morley. The Countess
boasted that she had selected the name of Freeman be-
cause it was peculiarly suited to the frankness and bold-
ness of her character ; and, to do her justice, it was not
by the ordinary arts of courtiers that she established and
long maintained her despotic empire over the feeblest of
minds. She had little of that tact which is the charac-
teristic talent of her sex: she was far too violent to
WILLIAM AND MABT. 561
flatter or to dissemble : but, by a rare chance, she had chap.
fallen in with a nature on which dictation and contra- ^^'
diction acted as philtres. In this grotesque friendship i^.
all the loyalty, the patience, the selfdevotion, was on
the side of the mistress. The whims, the haughty airs,
the fits of ill temper, were on the side of the waiting
woman.
Nothing is more curious than the relation in which
the two ladies stood to Mr. Freeman, as they called
Marlborough. In foreign countries people knew in
general that Anne was governed by the Churchills.
They knew also that the man who appeared to enjoy so
large a share of her favour was not only a great soldier
and politician, but also one of the finest gentlemen of
his time, that his face and figure were eminently hand-
some, his temper at once bland and resolute, his manners
at once engaging and noble. Nothing could be more
natural than that graces and accomplishments like his
should win a female heart. On the Continent therefore
. many persons imagined that he was Anne's favoured
lover; and he was so described in contemporary French
libels which have long been forgotten. In England this
calumny never found credit even with the vulgar, and
is nowhere to be found even in the most ribald doggrel
that was sung about our streets. In truth the Princess
seems never to have been guilty of a thought incon-
sistent with her conjugal vows. To her Marlborough,
with all his genius and his valour, his beauty and his
grace, was nothing but the husband of her friend. Direct
power over Her Royal Highness he had none. He could
influence her only by the instrumentality of his wife ;
and his wife was no passive instrument. Though it is
impossible to discover, in any thing that she ever did,
said OP wrote, any indication of superior understanding,
her fierce passions and strong will enabled her often to
rule a husband who was bom to rule grave senates and
mighty armies. His courage, that courage which the
VOL. ni. 0 0
562 mSTOBY 07 enqlabd.
most perilous emergencies of war only made cooler and
more steady, failed him when he had to encounter his
1690. Sarah's ready tears and voluble reproaches, the poutings
of her lip and the tossings of her head. History ex-
hibits to us few spectacles more remarkable than that
of a great and wise man, who, when he had combined
vast and profound schemes of policy, could carry them
into effect only by inducing one foolish woman, who was
often unmanageable, to manage another woman who was
more foolish still.
In one point the Earl and the Countess were perfectly
agreed. They were equally bent on getting money;
though, when it was got, he loved to hoard it, and die
was not unwilling to spend it.* The favour of the
Princess they both regarded as a valuable estate. la
her father's reign, they had begun to grow rich by
means of her bounty. She was naturally inclined to
parsimony; and, even when she was on the throne, her
equipages and tables were by no means 8umptuous.f It
might have been thought, therefore, that, while she was
a subject, thirty thousand a year, with a residence in the
palace, would have been more than sufficient for all her
wants. There were probably not in the kingdom two
noblemen possessed of such an income. But no income
would satisfy the greediness of those who governed her.
She repeatedly contracted debts which James repeatedly
discharged, not without expressing much surprise and
displeasure.
The Revolution opened to the Churchills a new and
boundless prospect of gain. The whole conduct of their
mistress at the great crisis had proved that she had no
will, no judgment, no conscience, but theirs. To them
* In a contemporary lampoon are f Swift mentions the defidencj
these lines : of hospitality and magnificence in
"Oh, happy couple I In their life her household. Journal to Stdla.
There does appear no sign of strife. a »«»..* o ^nl1
They do agr4 w in the main, August 8. 171 1.
To tacrifice their souls fur gain.**
The Female Nine, I69O.
WILLIAM AND MART. 563
she had sacrificed affections, prejudices, habits, interests, chap.
In obedience to them, she had joined in the conspiracy ^^'
against her father : she had fled from Whitehall in the ^^90.
depth of winter, through ice and mire, to a hackney
coach : she had taken refuge in the rebel camp : she had
consented to yield her place in the order of succession
to the Prince of Orange. They saw with pleasure that
she, over whom they possessed such boundless influence,
possessed no common influence over others. Scarcely
had the Revolution been accomplished when many Tories,
disliking both the King who had been driven out and
the King who had come in, and doubting whether their
religion had more to fear from Jesuits or from Lati-
tudinarians, showed a strong disposition to rally round
Anne. Nature had made her a bigot. Such was the
constitution of her mind that to the religion of her
nursery she could not but adhere, without examination
and without doubt, till she was laid in her coffin. In the
court of her father she had been deaf to all that could
be urged in favour of transubstantiation and auricular
confession. In the court of her brother in law she was
equally deaf to all that could be urged in favour of a
general union among Protestants. This slowness and
obstinacy made her important. It was a great thing to
be the only member of the Royal Family who regarded
Papbts and Presbjrterians with an impartial aversion.
While a large party was disposed to make her an idol,
she was regarded by her two artful servants merely as
a puppet. They faiew that she had it in her power to
give serious annoyance to the government; and they
determined to use this power in order to extort money,
nominally for her, but really for themselves. While Marl-
borough was commanding the English forces in the
Low Countries, the execution of the plan was necessarily
left to his wife ; and she acted, not as he would doubtless
have acted, with prudence and temper, but, as is plain
even from her own narrative, with odious violence and
M4t HI8T0ST Ot XHOLAia).
insolence. Indeed she had passions to gratify firem
which he was altogether free. He, ihoagfa one of Ae
1690. most covetous, was one of the least acrimoxiiavia of man-
kind: but malignity was in her a stronger paamon than
avarice. She hated easily: she hated heailily; and she
hated implacably. Among the objects of her hatred
were all who were related to her mistreaa either on the
paternal or on the maternal side. No person who had
a natural interest in the Princess could observe without
uneasiness the strange infatuation vdiich nEiade h^ the
slave of an imperious and reckless termagant. This the
Countess well knew. In her view the Royal Family and
the family of Hyde, however they might differ as to other
matters, were leagued against her ; and she detested than
all, James, William and Mary, Clarendon and Rochester.
Now was the time to wreak the accumulated spite of
years. It was not enough to obtain a great, a regal,
revenue for Anne. That revenue must be obtamed hj
means which would wound and humble those whom the
favourite abhorred. It must not be asked, it must not
be accepted, as a mark of fraternal kindness, but de-
manded in hostile tones, and wrung by force frcHn re-
luctant hands. No application was made to the King
and Queen. But they learned with astonishment that
Lady Marlborough was indefatigable in canvassing the
Tory members of Parliament, that a Princess's party
was forming, that the House of Commons would be
moved to settle on Her Royal Highness a vast income
independent of the Crown. Mary asked her sister what
these proceedings meant. " I hear," said Anne, " that
my friends have a mind to make me some settlement."
It is said that the Queen, greatly hurt by an expressicm
which seemed to imply that she and her husband w^e
not among her sister's fiiends, replied with unwonted
sharpness, " Of what friends do you speak ? What
friends have you except the King and me?"* The
* Duchess of Marlborough's Vindication. But the Dacbcis wis so
WILLIAM AND BfARY. 565
subject was never again mentioned between the sisters, chap.
Mary was probably sensible that she had made a mis- ^^'
take in addressing herself to one who was merely a 1^90.
passive instrument in the hands of others. An attempt
was made to open a negotiation with the Countess.
After some inferior agents had expostulated with her
in vain, Shrewsbury waited on her. It might have been
expected that his intervention would have been success-
ful : for, if the scandalous chronicle of those times could
be trusted, he had stood high, too high, in her favour.*
He was authorised by the King to promise that, if the
Princess would desist from soliciting the members of
the House of CJommons to support her cause, the income
of Her Royal Highness should be increased from thirty
thousand pounds to fifty thousand. The Countess flatly
rejected this offer. The King's word, she had the in-
solence to hint, was not a sufficient security. ^^ I am
confident," said Shrewsbury, " that His Majesty will
strictly fiilfil his engagements. If he breaks them I will
not serve him an hour longer." " That may be very
honourable in you," answered the pertinacious vixen,
" but it will be very poor comfort to the Princess."
Shrewsbury, after vainly attempting to move the ser-
vant, was at length admitted to an audience of the
mistress. Anne, in language doubtless dictated by her
friend Sarah, told him that the business had gone too
far to be stopped, and must be left to the decision of
the Commons.f
The truth was that the Princess's prompters hoped to
obtain from Parliament a much larger sum than was
offered by the King. Nothing less than seventy thou-
abandoned a liar^ that it is impos- inaccuracy^ which^ even when she
■ible to betieve a word that she has no motive for lying, makes it
■ays, except when she accuses her- necessary to read every word written
self. by her with suspicion, she creates
* See the Female Nine. Shrewsbury a Duke, and represents
t The Duchess of Marlborough's herself as calling him '* Your Grace."
Vindication. With that habitual He wu not made a Duke till I694.
o o 3
566 HISTOBY 09 BNGLAim.
CHAP, sand a year would content them. But their cupidity
^^' overreached itself. The House of Conunons showed a
i6yo. great disposition to gratify Her Royal Highness. But,
when at length her too eager adherents ventured to
name the sum which they wished to grant, the mu^
murs were loud. Seventy thousand a year at a time
when the necessary expenses of the State were daily
increasing, when the receipt of the customs was diuly
diminishing, when trade was low, when every gentle-
man, every farmer, was retrenching somethhig firom
the charge of his table and his cellar ! The general
opinion was that the sum which the King was mlde^
stood to be willing to give would be amply sufficient*
At last something was conceded on both sides. The
Princess was forced to content herself with fifty thou-
sand a year ; and William agreed that this sum should
be settled on her by Act of Parliament. She rewarded
the services of Lady Marlborough with a pension of a
thousand a yearf : but this was in all probability a
very small part of what the Churchills gained by the
arrangement.
After these transactions the two royal sisters con-
tinued during many months to live on terms of civility
and even of apparent friendship. But Mary, though she
seems to have borne no malice to Anne, undoubtedly
felt against Lady Marlborough as much resentment as
a very gentle heart is capable of feeling. Marlborough
had been out of England during a great part of the
time which his wife had spent in canvassing among
the Tories, and, though he had undoubtedly acted in
concert with her, had acted, as usual, with temper
and decorum. He therefore continued to receive from
William many marks of favour which were unaccom-
panied by any indication of displeasure.
In the debates on the settling of the revenue, the
* Commons' JournalR^ December f Vindication of the Duchess of
17. and 18. I689. Marlborough.
WILLIAM AND MABT. S67
distinction between Whigs and Tories does not appear chap.
to have been very clearly marked. In truth, if there ^^'
was any thing about which the two parties were agreed, 1690.
it was the expediency of granting the customs to the
Crown for a time not exceeding four years. But there
were other questions which called forth the old ani-
mosity in all its strength. The Whigs were now a
minority, but a minority formidable in numbers, and
more formidable in ability. They carried on the par-
liamentary war, not less acrimoniously than when they
were a majority, but somewhat more artfully. They
brought forward several motions, such as no High
Churchman could well support, yet such as no servant
of William and Mary could well oppose. The Tory
who voted for these motions would run a great risk of
being pointed at as a turncoat by the sturdy Cavaliers
of his county. The Tory who voted against those
motions would run a great risk of being frowned upon
at Kensington.
It was apparently in pursuance of this policy that Biiideciar-
the Whigs laid on the table of the House of Lords a biU Ta^^fthe
declaring all the laws passed by the late Parliament to F<*cfd>ng
be valid laws. No sooner had this bill been read than vildT™"**^
the controversy of the preceding spring was renewed.
The Whigs were joined on this occasion by almost all
those noblemen who were connected with the govern-
ment. The rigid Tories, with Nottingham at their head,
professed themselves willing to enact that every statute
passed in 1689 should have the same force that it would
have had if it had been passed by a parliament con-
voked in a regular manner : but nothing would induce
them to acknowledge that an assembly of lords and
gentlemen, who had come together without authority
from the Great Seal, was constitutionally a Parlia-
ment. Few questions seem to have excited stronger
passions than the question, practically altogether un-
important,, whether the bill should or should not be
o o 4
S68 msTOST ov xNauuro.
declaratory. Nottingham, always upright and lioDoiir-
able, but a bigot and a formalist, was on this sabject
singularly obstinate and unreasonable. In one debate
he lost his temper, forgot the decorum which in general
he strictly observed, and narrowly escaped being com-
mitted to the custody of the Black Rod.* After much
wrangling, the Whigs carried their point by a majo-
rity cKf seven, f Many peers signed a strong protest
written by Nottingham. In this protest the bill, whiek
was indeed open to verbal criticism, was impolitely de-
scribed as being neither good English nor good sense.
The majority paissed a resolution that the protest should
be expunged; and against this resolution Nottingham
and his followers again protested.} The King was
displeased by the pertinacity of his Secretary of State;
so much displeased indeed tiiat Nottingham declared
his intention of resigning the Seals : Imt the dispute
was soon accommodated. William was too wise not to
know the value of an honest man in a dishonest age.
The very scrupulosity which made Nottingham a muti-
neer was a security that he would never be a traitor.§
The biU went down to the Lower House ; and it
was fully expected that the contest there would be
long and fierce : but a single speech settled the ques-
tion. Somers, with a force and eloquence which sur-
prised even an audience accustomed to hear him with
pleasure, exposed the absurdity of the doctrine held by
the high Tories. "If the Convention," — it was thus
that he argued, — " was not a Parliament, how can we
be a Parliament ? An Act of Elizabeth provides that
no person shall sit or vote in this House till he has taken
the old oath of supremacy. Not one of us has taken that
oath. Instead of it, we have all taken the new oatii of
supremacy which the late Parliament substituted &r
* Van Citters^ April -j^. I69O. f Lords' Journals, April 8. and
t Van Citters, April ^; Nar- 10. I69O; Bamet, ii. 41.
dssuB Luttrell's Diary. g Van Cittern ^J-^ l6&a
WILLIAM AND MABT. ' 569
the old oath. It is therefore a contradiction to say
that the Acts of the late Parliament are not now valid,
and yet to ask us to enact that they shall henceforth be i6qo
valid. For either they already are so, or we never can
make them so." This reasoning, which was in truth as
unanswerable as that of Euclid, brought the debate to
a speedy close. The bill passed the Commons within
forty eight hours after it had been read the first time.*
This was the only victory won by the Whigs du- Debate on
ring the whole session. They complained loudly in the S^tL*"^^
Lower House of the change which had been made in ^>«nte-
the military government of the city of London. The
Tories, conscious of their strength, and heated by re-
sentment, not only refused to censure what had been
done, but determined to express publicly and formally
their gratitude to the King for having brought in so
many churchmen and turned out so many schismatics.
An address of thanks was moved by Clarges, member for
Westminster, who was known to be attached to Caer-
marthen. ^^ The alterations which have been made in
the City," said Clarges, " show that His Majesty has
a tender care of us. I hope that he will make simi-
lar alterations in every county of the realm." The
minority struggled hard. " Will you thank the King,"
they said, ^^ for putting the sword into the hands of bis
most dangerous enemies ? Some of those whom he
has been advised to entrust with military command
have not yet been able to bring themselves to take the
oath of allegiance to him. Others were well known, in
the evil days, as stanch jurjnnen, who were sure to find
an Exclusionist guilty on any evidence or no evidence."
Nor did the Whig orators refrain from using those topics
on which all factions are eloquent in the hour of dis-
tress, and which all factions are but too ready to treat
* Commons' Journals, April 8. on the Sth^ mentions that a great
and 9. 1690 ; Grey's Debates; struggle in the Lower House was
Burnet, iL 42. Van Citters, writing expected.
BilL
570 HISTOBT OF ENGLAKD.
CHAP, lightly in the hour of prosperity. " Let us noV' they
^^' said, " pass a vote which conveys a reflection on a large
1690, body of our countrymen, good subjects, good Protes-
tants. The King ought to be the head of his whole
people. Let us not make him the head of a party."
This was excellent doctrine ; but it scarcely became the
lips of men who, a few weeks before, had opposed the
Indemnity Bill and voted for the Sacheverell Clause.
The address was carried by a hundred and eighty five
votes to a hundred and thirty six.*
Abjuration As soou as the uumbcrs had been announced, the
minority, smarting from their defeat, brought forward
a motion which caused no little embarrassment to the
Tory placemen. The oath of allegiance, the Whigs said,
was drawn in terms far too lax. It might exclude
from public employment a few honest Jacobites who
were generally too dull to be mischievous ; but it was
altogether inefficient as a means of binding the suj^le
and slippery consciences of cunning priests, who, iriile
affecting to hold the Jesuits in abhorrence, were profi-
cients in that immoral casuistry which was the worst
part of Jesuitism. Some grave divines had openly said,
others had even dared to write, that they had sworn
fealty to William in a sense altogether different from that
in which they had sworn fealty to James, To James
they had plighted the entire faith which a loyal subject
owes to a rightful sovereign : but, when they promised to
bear true allegiance to William, they meant only that
they would not, whilst he was able to hang them for
rebelling or conspiring against him, run any risk of
being hanged. None could wonder that the precepts
and example of the malecontent clergy should have
corrupted the malecontent laity. When Prebendaries
and Rectors were not ashamed to avow that they had
equivocated, in the very act of kissing the New Testa-
ment, it was hardly to be expected that attorneys and
* Commons' Journals, April 24. I69O; Grey's Debates.
THLLIAM AND MABY. 571
taxgatherers would be more scrupulous. The conse- chap,
quence was that every department swarmed with trai- ^^'
tors ; that men who ate the King's bread, men who 1690.
were entrusted with the duty of collecting and disburs-
ing his revenues, of victualling his ships, of clothing
his soldiers, of making his artUlery ready for the field,
were in the habit of calling him an usurper, and of
drinking to his speedy downfall. Could any govern-
ment be safe which was hated and betrayed by its own
servants? And was not the English government ex-
posed to dangers which, even if all its servants were
true, might well excite serious apprehensions ? A dis-
puted succession, war with France, war in Scotland,
war in Ireland, was not all this enough without trea-
chery in every arsenal and in every custom house ?
There must be an oath drawn in language too precise
to be explained away, in language which no Jacobite
could repeat without the consciousness that he was
perjuring himself. Though the zealots of indefeasible
hereditary right had in general no objection to swear
allegiance to William, they would probably not choose
to abjure James. On such grounds as these, an Ab-
juration Bill of extreme severity was brought into the
House of Commons. It was proposed to enact that
every person who held any office, civil, military, or
spiritual, should, on pain of deprivation, solemnly ab-
jure the exiled King ; that the oath of abjuration might
be tendered by any justice of the peace to any subject
of their Majesties ; and that, if it were refused, the re-
cusant should be sent to prison, and should lie there as
long as he continued obstinate.
The severity of this last provision was generally and
most justly blamed. To turn every ignorant meddling
magistrate into a state inquisitor, to insist that a plain
man, who lived peaceably, who obeyed the laws, who
paid his taxes, who had never held and who did not
expect ever to hold any office, and who had never
572 HISTORY 01* BNGLAND.
CHAP, troubled his head about problems of political philosophy,
^^' should declare, under the sanction of an oath, a dedd^
1690. opinion on a point about which the most learned Doc-
tors of the age had written whole libraries of contro-
versial books, and to send him to rot in a gaol if he
could not bring himself to swear, would surely have
been the height of tyranny. The clause which required
public functionaries to abjure the deposed Eong was
not open to the same objections. Yet even against
this clause some weighty arguments were urged. A
man, it was said, who has an honest heart and a sound
understanding is sufficiently bound by the present
oath. Every such man, when he swears to be £utli-
ful and to bear true allegiance to King William, does,
by necessary implication, abjure King James. There
may doubtless be among the servants of the State, and
even among the ministers of the Church, some persons
who have no sense of honour or religion, and who are
ready to forswear themselves for lucre. There may
be others who have contracted the pernicious habit rf
quibbling away the most sacred obligations of moral-
ity, and who have convinced themselves that they can
innocently make, with a mental reservation, a promise
which it would be sinful to make without such a re-
servation. Against these two classes of Jacobites it is
true that the present test affords no security. But
will the new test, wiU any test, be more efficacious?
Will a person who has no conscience, or a person
whose conscience can be set at rest by immoral so-
phistry, hesitate to repeat any phrase that you can
dictate? The former will kiss the book without any
scruple at all. The scruples of the latter will be very
easily removed. He now swears allegiance to one King
with a mental reservation. He will then abjure the
other King with a mental reservation. Do not flatter
yourselves that the ingenuity of lawgivers will ever
devise an oath which the ingenuity of casuists will not
WILLIAM AND MART. B73
evade. liVTiat indeed is the value of any oath in such chap.
a matter? Among the many lessons which the troubles ^^'
of the last generation have left us none is more plain i(>90.
than this, that no form of words, however precise, no
imprecation, however awfiil, ever saved, or ever vnH
save, a government from destruction. Was not the
Solemn League and Covenant burned by the common
hangman amidst the huzzas of tens of thousands who
had themselves subscribed it? Among the statesmen
and warriors who bore the chief part in restoring
Charles the Second, how many were there who had not
repeatedly abjured him? Nay, is it not well known
that some of those persons boastfully affirmed that, if
they had not abjured him, they never could have re-
stored him?
The debates were sharp; and the issue during a
short time seemed doubtfiil : for some of the Tories
who were in office were unwilling to give a vote which
might be thought to indicate that they were lukewarm
in the cause of the King whom they served. William,
however, took care to let it be understood that he had
no wish to impose a new test on his subjects. A few
words from him decided the event of the conflict. The
bill was rejected thirty six hours after it had been
brought in by a hundred and ninety two votes to a
hundred and sixty five.*
Even after this defeat the Whigs pertinaciously re-
turned to the attack. Having failed in one House
they renewed the battle in the other. Five days after
the Abjuration Bill had been thrown out in the
Commons, another Abjuration Bill, somewhat milder,
but still very severe, was laid on the table of the Lords.f
• Commons' Journals^ April 24, a Whig pasquinade entitled " A
25, and 26; Grey's Debates ; Nar- speech intended to hare been spoken
dssos Luttrell's Diary. Narcissus is on the Triennial Bill, on Jan. 28.'*
unusually angry. He calls the bill l69i, ^^® ^^^S ^" ^^ to have
/'a perfect trick of the fanatics to <' browbeaten the Abjuration BilL"
turn out the Bishops and most of f Lords' Journals, May 1. 1690.
the Chordi of EngUnd dergy." In This Bill is among the Archives of
574 HISTOBY 01* ENQLAKD.
CHAP. What was now proposed was tliat no person should sit
L in either House of Parliament or hold any office, civile
1690. military, or judicial, without making a declaration that
he would stand by William and Mary against James and
James's adherents. Every male in the kingdom who
had attained the age of sixteen was to make the same
declaration before a certain day. K he failed to do so
he was to pay double taxes and to be incapable of
exercising the elective franchise.
On the day fixed for the second reading, the King
came down to the House of Peers. He gave his assent
in form to several laws, unrobed, took his seat on a
chair of state which had been placed for him, and
listened with much interest to the debate. To the
general surprise, two noblemen who had been eminently
zealous for the Revolution spoke against the proposed
test. Lord Wharton, a Puritan who had fought for
the Long Parliament, said, with amusing simplicity,
that he was a very old man, that he had lived through
troubled times, that he had taken a great many oaths
in his day, and that he was afraid that he had not
kept them all. He prayed that the sin might not be
laid to his charge ; and he declared that he could not
consent to lay any more snares for his own soul and
for the souls of his neighbours. The Earl of Maccles-
field, the captain of the English volunteers who had
accompanied William from Helvoetsluys to Torbay, de-
clared that he was much in the same case with Lord
Wharton. Marlborough supported the bOl. He won-
dered, he said, that it should be opposed by Macclesfield,
who had borne so preeminent a part in the Revolution.
Macclesfield, irritated by the charge of inconsistency,
the House of Lords. Burnet con- but did not see what the blunder
founds it with the bill which the was^ has, in trying to correct it,
Commons had rejected in the pre- added sereral blunders of his own ;
ceding week. Ralphs who saw that and the Oxford editor of Burnet
Burnet had committed a blunder, hat been misled by Ralph.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 575
retorted with terrible severity : " The noble Earl," he
said, ^^exaggerates the share which I had in the de-
liverance of our country. I was read)^, indeed, and 1^90.
always shall be ready, to venture my life in defence of
her l^ws and liberties. But there are lengths to which,
even for the sake of her laws and liberties, I could never
go. I only rebelled against a bad King : there were
those who did much more." Marlborough, though not
easily discomposed, could not but feel the edge of this
sarcasm: William looked displeased; and the aspect of
the whole House was troubled and gloomy. It was
resolved by fifty one votes to forty that the bill should
be committed; and it was committed, but never re-
ported. After many hard struggles between the Whigs
lieaded by Shrewsbury and the Tories headed by Caer-
marthen, it was so much mutUated that it retained little
more than its name, and did not seem to those who had
introduced it to be worth any further contest.*
The discomfiture of the Whigs was completed by a Act of
communication from the King. Caermarthen appeared ^
in the House of Lords bearing in his hand a parchment
signed by William. It was an Act of Grace for political
ofiences.
Between an Act of Grace originating with the Sove-
reign and an Act of Indemnity originating with the
Estates of the Realm there are some remarkable distinc-
tions. An Act of Indemnity passes through all the
stages through which other laws pass, and may, during
its progress, be amended by either House. An Act of
Grace is received with peculiar marks of respect, is read
only once by the Lords and once by the Commons, and
must be either rejected altogether or accepted as it
0tands.f William had not ventured to submit such an
* Lordi' Journal!, May 2. and 3. may be seen on the bill in the
1690 ; Van Cittera, May 2. ; Nar- Archives of the House of Lords,
cissna Luttrell'a Diary ; Burnet, ii. f These distinctions were much
44p. ; and Lord Dartmouth*8 note, discussed at the time. Van Citters,
I1ie changes made by the Committee May }g. 1 69O.
Grace.
576 HISTORY OP EKGLAND.
CHAP. Act to the preceding Parliament. But in the new Pa^
^^' liament he was certain of a majority. The minority
1690. gave no trouble. The stubborn spirit which had, du-
ring two sessions, obstructed the progress of the Bill of
Indemnity had been at length broken by defeats and
-humiliations. Both Houses stood up uncovered wfaik
the Act of Grace was read, and gave their sancticm to it
'without one dissentient voice.
There would not have been this unanimity had not t
few great criminals been excluded from the benefits of
the amnesty. Foremost among them stood the surviving
members of the High Ck)urt of Justice which had sate
on Charles the First. With these ancient men were
. joined the two nameless executioners who had done their
office, with masked faces, on the scaffold before the Ban-
queting House. None knew who they were, or of what
rank. It was probable that they had been long dead.
Yet it was thought necessary to declare that, if even
now, after the lapse of forty one years, they should be
discovered, they would still be liable to the punishment
of their great crime. Perhaps it would hardly have
been thought necessary to mention these men, if the
animosities of the preceding generation had not been
rekindled by the recent appearance of Ludlow in Eng-
land, About thirty of the agents of the tyranny of
James were left to the law. With these exceptions,
all political offences, committed before the day on
which the royal signature was affixed to the Act, were
covered with a general oblivion.* Even the crimi-
nals who were by name excluded had little to fear.
Many of them were in foreign countries; and those
who were in England were weU assured that, unless
they committed some new fault, they would not be mo-
lested.
The Act of Grace the nation owed to William alone ;
and it is one of his noblest and purest titles to renown.
♦ Stat. 2 W, & M. 8C8S. 1. c. 10.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 577
From the commencement of the civil troubles of the chap.
seventeenth century do^vn to the Revolution, every vie- ^^y
tory gained by either party had been followed by a san- 1690.
guinary proscription. When the Roundheads triumphed
over the Cavaliers, when the Cavaliers triumphed over
the Roundheads, when the fable of the Popish plot gave
the ascendency to the Whigs, when the detection of
the Rye House Plot transferred the ascendency to the
Tories, blood, and more blood, and still more blood had
flowed. Every great explosion and every great recoil
of public feeling had been accompanied by severities
which, at the time, the predominant faction loudly ap-
plauded, but which, on a calm review, history and
posterity have condemned. No wise and humane man,
whatever may be his political opinions, now mentions
without reprehension the death either of Laud or of
Vane, either of StaflFord or of Russell. Of the alter-
nate butcheries the last and the worst is that which is
inseparably associated with the names of James and
Jeflfreys. But it assuredly would not have been the
last, perhaps it might not have been the worst, if Wil-
liam had not had the virtue and the firmness resolutely
to withstand the importunity of his most zealous ad-
herents. These men were bent on exacting a terrible
retribution for all they had undergone during seven
disastrous years. The scaffold of Sidney, the gibbet of
Cornish, the stake at which Elizabeth Gaunt had perished
in the flames for the crime of harbouring a fugitive,
the porches of the Somersetshire churches surmounted
by the skulls and quarters of murdered peasants, the
holds of those Jamaica ships from which every day the
carcass of some prisoner dead of thirst and foul air had
been flung to the sharks, all these things were fresh
in the memory of the party which the Revolution had
made, for a time, dominant in the State. Some chiefs
of that party had redeemed their necks by paying heavy
ransom. Others had languished long in Newgate.
VOL. m. p P
578 HISTOBY OF £NQLASID.
CHAP. Others had starved and shivered, winter after winter,
'^^' in the garrets of Amsterdam. It was natural that in
1690. the day of their power and prosperity they should wish
to inflict some part of what they had suffered. During
a whole year they pursued their scheme of revenge.
They succeeded in defeating Indenmity Bill after In-
demnity Bill. Nothing stood between them and their
victims, but William's immutable resolution that the
glory of the great deliverance which he had wrought
should not be sullied by cruelty. His clemency was
peculiar to himself. It was not the clemency of an
ostentatious man, or of a sentimental man, or of an
easy tempered man. It was cold, unconciUating, in-
flexible. It produced no fine stage effects. It drew
on him the savage invectives of those whose malevolent
passions he refused to satisfy. It won for him no gra-
titude from those who owed to him fortune, liberty and
life. While the violent Whigs railed at his lenity, the
agents of the fallen government, as soon as they found
themselves safe, instead of acknowledging their obliga-
tions to him, reproached him in insulting language with
the mercy which he had extended to them. His Act of
Orace, they said, had completely refuted his Declaration.
Was it possible to believe that, if there had been any
truth in the charges which he had brought against the
late government, he would have granted impunity to the
guilty ? It was now acknowledged by himself, under
his own hand, that the stories by which he and his
friends had deluded the nation and driven away the
royal family were mere calunmies devised to serve a
turn. The turn had been served ; and the accusations
by which he had inflamed the public mind to madness
were coolly withdrawn.* But none of these things
moved him. He had done well. He had risked his
popularity with men who had been his warmest ad-
* Roger North was one of the many malecontents who were nerer tired
of harping on this string.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 579
mirers, in order to give repose and security to men by chap.
whom his name was never mentioned without a curse. ^^'
Nor had he conferred a less benefit on those whom he 1690.
had disappointed of their revenge than on those whom
he had protected. If he had saved one faction from
a proscription, he had saved the other from the reac-
tion which such a proscription would inevitably have
produced. If his people did not justly appreciate his
policy, so much the worse for them. He had discharged
his duty by them. He feared no obloquy ; and he wanted
no thanks.
On the twentieth of May the Act of Grace was passed. The Par-
The King then informed the Houses that his visit to ^JSJ^^ed.
Ireland could no longer be delayed, that he had there-
fore determined to prorogue them, and that, unless
some unexpected emergency made their advice and
assistance necessary to him, he should not call them
again from their homes till the next 'winter. " Then,"
he said, "I hope, by the blessing of God, we shall have a
happy meeting."
The Parliament had passed an Act providing that,
whenever he should go out of England, it should be
lawful for Mary to administer the government of the
kingdom in his name and her own. It was added that
he should nevertheless, during his absence, retain all
his authority. Some objections were made to this
arrangement. Here, it was said, were two supreme
powers in one State. A public functionary might re-
ceive diametrically opposite orders from the King and
the Queen, and might not know which to obey. The
objection was, beyond all doubt, speculatively just ;
but there was such perfect confidence and afltection
between the royal pair that no practical inconvenience
was to be apprehended.*
As far as Ireland was concerned, the prospects of Prepara-
♦ Stat. 2 W. & M. 8CM. 1. c. 6. ; Grey's Debates, April 29., May 1. 5, 6,
7. 1690.
p p «
580 HISTOBT OF ENOLAKP.
William were much more cheering than they had heen
a few months earlier. The activity with which he had
1690, personally urged forward the preparations for the next
ib^l^^^ campaign had produced an extraordinary eflfect. The
war, nerves of the government were new strung. In every
department of the military administration the influence
of a vigorous mind was perceptible. Abundant sup-
plies of food, clothing and medicine, very different in
quality from those which Shales had furnished, were
sent across Saint George's Channel. A thousand bag-
gage waggons had been made or collected with great
expedition ; and, during some weeks, the road between
London and Chester was covered with them. Great
numbers of recruits were sent to fill the chasms which
pestilence had made in the English ranks. Fresh re-
giments from Scotland, Cheshire, Lancashire, and Cum-
berland had landed in the Bay of Belfast. The uniforms
and arms of the new comers clearly indicated the potent
influence of the master's eye. With the British bat-
talions were interspersed several hardy bands of Ger-
man and Scandinavian mercenaries. Before the end
of May the English force in Ulster amounted to thirty
thousand fighting men, A few more troops and an
immense quantity of military stores were on board of a
fleet which lay in the estuary of the Dee, and which
was ready to weigh anchor as soon as the King was on
board.*
stnuion of James ought to have made an equally good use of
James at the time during which his army had been in winter
quarters. Strict discipline and regular drilling might,
in the interval between November and May, have
turned the athletic and enthusiastic peasants who were
assembled under his standard into good soldiers. But
the opportunity was lost. The Court of Dublin was,
during that season of inaction, busied with dice and
claret, love letters and challenges. The aspect of
* Story *s Impartial History; Karcissua LuttreU's Diary.
Dablin.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 581
the capital was indeed not very brilliant. The whole
number of coaches which could be mustered there,
those of the King and of the French Legation included,
did not amount to forty.* But though there was little
splendour there was much dissoluteness. Grave Roman
Catholics shook their heads and said that the Castle
did not look like the palace of a King who gloried in
being the champion of the Church.f The military
administration was as deplorable as ever. The cavalry
indeed was, by the exertions of some gallant officers,
kept in a high state of efficiency. But a regiment of
infantry differed in nothing but name from a large
gang of Rapparees. Indeed a gang of Rapparees gave
less annoyance to peaceable citizens, and more an-
noyance to the enemy, than a regiment of infantry.
Avaux strongly represented, in a memorial which
he delivered to James, the abuses which made the
Irish foot a curse and a scandal to Ireland. Whole
companies, said the ambassador, quit their colours
on the line of march and wander to right and left
pillaging and destroying : the soldier takes no care
of his arms : the officer never troubles himself to
ascertain whether the arms are in good order : the
consequence is that one man in every three has lost his
musket, and that another man in every three has a
musket that will not go off. Avaux adjured the King
to prohibit marauding, to give orders that the troops
should be regularly exercised, and to punish every
officer who suffered his men to neglect their weapons
and accoutrements. If these things were done. His
Majesty might hope to have, in the approaching spring,
* Avaux, Jan. ^. I69O. but think, perverts his judgment.
f Macariie Excidium. This most When I quote the Macarifle Exci-
curious work has been recently dium, I always quote the Latin
edited with great care and diligence text. The English version is, I
by Mr. 0*Callaghan. I owe so much am convinced, merely a translation
to his learning and industry that from the Latin, and a very careless
I movt readily excuse the national and imperfect translation,
partiality which sometiroesy I cannot
pp 3
582 IllSTOBY Of ZSOLASD.
CHAP, ftn ia-rmy with which the enemy would be "unable to
^^' contend. This was good advice : but James was so
1690. far from taking it that he would hardly listen to it
with patience. Before he had heard eight lines read he
flew into a passion and accused the ambassador of ex-
aggeration. " This paper, Sir," said Avaux, " is not
written to be published. It is meant solely for Your
Majesty's information ; and, in a paper meant solely
for Your Majesty's information, flattery and disguise
would be out of place : but I will not persist in read-
ing what is so ^sagreeable." "Go on," said James
very angrily; " I will hear the whole." He gradually
became cahner, took the memorial, and promised to
adopt some of the suggestions which it contained. But
his promise was soon forgotten.*
His financial administration was of a piece with his
military administration. His one fiscal resource was
robbery, direct or indirect. Every Protestant who had
remained in any part of the three southern provinces
of Ireland was robbed directly, by the simple process of
taking money out of his strong box, drink out of his
cellars, fuel from his turf stack, and clothes from his
wardrobe. He was robbed indirectly by a new issue of
counters, smaller in size and baser in material than any
which had yet borne the image and superscription of
James. Even brass had begun to be scarce at Dublin;
and it was necessary to ask assistance from Lewis, who
charitably bestowed on his ally an old cracked piece of
cannon to be coined into crowns and sliillings.f
An anx- But the French king had determined to send over
iiiary force g^^cours of a vcry dififereut kind. He proposed to take
* Avaux, Nov. J^. 1689. bastiraent qui portera cette letire
f Louvois writes to Avaux, une piece de canon clu calibre tie
y^^ l6jg: "Commele Royaveu <leux qui est ^ventee, de laquelle
paJ'vos letires que le Roy d'Angle- ceux qui travaillent a la monnoye
terrecraignoitdemanquerdecuivre ^^ Roy . d Angleterre pourront k
pour faire de lamonnoye, SaMajeste ^^^»^ P^^^ continuer a faire de la
a donne' ordrc que Ton mist sur le ™onnoye.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 583.
into his own service, and to form by the best discipline chap.
then known in the world, four Irish regiments. They ^^'
were to be commanded by Macarthy, who had been i690.
severely wounded and taken prisoner at Newton Butler, p^^^^™
His wounds had been healed ; and he had regained his Ireland,
liberty by violating his parole. This disgraceful breach
of faith he had made more disgraceful by paltry tricks
and sophistical excuses which would have become a
Jesuit better than a gentleman and a soldier. Lewis
was willing that the Irish regiments should be sent to
him in rags and unarmed, and insisted only that the
men should be stout, and that the officers should not
be bankrupt traders and discarded lacqueys, but, if
possible, men of good family who had seen service. In
retumfor these troops, who were in number not quite
four thousand, he undertook to send to Ireland between
seven and eight thousand excellent French infantry,
who were likely in a day of battle to be of more use
than all the kernes of Leinster, Munster and Connaught
together.*
One great error he committed. The army which
he was sending to assist James, though small indeed
when compared with the army of Flanders or with the
army of the Rhine, was destined for a service on which
the fate of Europe might depend, and ought therefore
to have been commanded by a general of eminent
abilities. There was no want of such generals in the
French service. But James and his Queen begged
hard for Lauzun, and carried this point against the
* Louvois to Avaux, Nov. ^j. n'ayant point d'uniforme dam leurs
1 689* The force sent by Lewis to habits, si ce n*est qu*ils sont tous
Ireland appears by tlie lists at the fort mauyais." A yery exact ac-
French War Office to haye amounted count of Macarthy's breach of parole
to seven thousand two hundred and will be found in Mr. O'Callaghan's
ninety one men of all ranks. At History of the Irish Brigades. I
the French War Office is aletter from am sorry that a writer to whom I
Marshal d'Estr^es who saw the four owe so much should try to vindi-
Irish regiments soon after they had cate conduct which, as described by
landed at Brest, He describes them himself, was in the highest degree
as ** mal chauss^, mal v^tus, et dishonourable.
p p 4
584 HISTOBT OF ENGLASTD.
CHAP, strong representations of Avaux, against the advice 6[
L Louvois, and against the judgment of Lewis himself.
1690. When Lauzun went to the cabinet of Louvois to
receive instructions, the wise minister held language
which showed how little confidence he felt in the vwn
and eccentric koight errant. " Do not, for God's sake,
suffer yourself to be hurried away by your desire of
fighting. Put all yoiur glory in tiring the English
out ; and, above aU things, maintain strict discipline."*
Not only was the appointment of Lauzun in itself a
bad appointment : but, in order that one man might fill
a post for which he was unfit, it was necessary to re-
move two men from posts for which they were eminently
fit. Immoral and hardhearted as Rosen and Avaux
were, Rosen was a skilful captain, and Avaux was a
skilful politician. Though it is not probable that they
would have been able to avert the doom of Ireland, it
is probable that they might have been able to protract
the contest; and it was evidently for the interest of
France that the contest should be protracted. But it
would have been an aflfront to the old general to put
him under the orders of Lauzun ; and between the am-
bassador and Lauzun there was such an enmity that
they could not be expected to act cordially together.
Both Rosen and Avaux, therefore, were, Avith many
soothing assurances of royal approbation and favour,
recalled to France. They sailed from Cork early in the
spring by the fleet which had conveyed Lauzun thither.f
Lauzun had no sooner landed than he found that^
though he had been long expected, nothing had been
prepared for his reception. No lodgings had been
provided for his men, no place of security for his stores,
no horses, no carriages.^ His troops had to undergo
the hardships of a long march through a desert before
* Lauzun to Louvois, •~^* and t See the later letters of Araw.
June ^f. 1690, at the French War t ^^^"'^ *« Louvois, MarchJ|
Office. 1^90 ; Lauzun to Louvois, ^^
WILLIAM ASD MABT. 585
they arrived at Dublin. At Dublin, indeed, they found chap.
tolerable accommodation. They were billeted on Pro- L
testants, lived at free quarter, had plenty of bread, 1690.
and threepence a day. Lauzun was appointed Com-
mander in Chief of the Irish army, and took up his
residence in the Castle.* His salary was the same
witli that of the Lord Lieutenant, eight thousand Jaco-
buses, equivalent to ten thousand pounds sterling, a
year. This sum James ofltered to pay, not in the brass
^vhich bore his own effigy, but in French gold. But
Lauzun, among whose faults avarice had no place,
refused to fill his own cofifers fix)m an almost empty
trcasury.f
On him and on the Frenchmen who accompanied
him the misery of the Irish people and the imbecility
of the Irish government produced an efifect which they
found it difficult to describe. Lauzun wrote to Louvois
that the Court and the whole kingdom were in a state
not to be imagined by a person who had always lived
in well governed countries. It was, he said, a chaos,
such as he had read of in the book of Genesis. The
whole business of all the public functionaries was to
quarrel with each other, and to plunder the govern-
ment and the people. After he had been about a
month at the Castle, he declared that he would not go
through such another month for all the world. His
ablest officers confirmed his testimony. J One of them,
indeed, was so unjust as to represent the people of
Ireland not merely as ignorant and idle, which they
were, but as hopelessly stupid and unfeeling, which
they assuredly were not. The English policy, he said, had
so completely brutalised them, that they could hardly be
called human beings. They were insensible to praise
* Story's Impartial History ; ^ Lauzun to Louvois, April ^
Lauzun to Louvois, May JJ. l6.gO. May J J. I69O. La Hoguette, who
t Lauzun to Louvois, JJ^^^^J; beld the rank of Marechal de Camp,
1690. wrote to Louvois to the game effect
about the same time.
586 UISTOBT OF BNGLAKD.
€HAP. and blame, to promises and threats. And yet it was
^^' pity of them : for they were physically the finest race
1690. of men in the world.*
By this time Schomberg had opened the campaign
auspiciously. He had with little difficulty taken
Charlemont, the last important fastness which the
Irish occupied in Ulster. But the great work of re-
conquering the three southern provinces of the isboid
he deferred till William should arrive. William mean-
while was busied in making arrangements for the
government and defence of England during his absence.
He well knew that the Jacobites were on the dot
They had not till very lately been an united and
Plan of organized faction. There had been, to use Melfort's
jacoWtes*!^ phrase, numerous gangs, which were all in communica-
ciYendon. tJou with James at Dublin Castle, or with Mary of
Dart- "'^' Modena at Saint Germains, but which had no con-
™°"*^' nection with each other and were unwilling to trust
each other.f But since it had been known that the
usurper was about to cross the sea, and that his sceptre
would be left in a female hand, these gangs had been
drawing close together, and had begun to form one
extensive confederacy. Clarendon, who had refused
the oaths, and Aylesbury, who had dishonestly taken
tliem, were among the chief traitors. Dartmouth,
though he had sworn allegiance to the sovereigns who
were in possession, was one of their most active ene-
mies, and undertook what may be called the maritime
department of the plot. His mind was constantly oc-
cupied by schemes, disgraceful to an English seainan,
♦ " La politique des Anglois a point. L'interest mcme ne les peol
ete (Ic tenir ces peuples cy comme engager au travail. Ce sent pour-
des esclaves^ et si bas qu'il ne leur tant les gens du moode lea miiux !
esloit pas perrois d'apprendre h, faits." — Desgrigny to Louxo'a,
lire et k ecrire. Cela les a rendu ^^'^ ^' 1 fioo
...... June 6. ^"y^-
t S(
written
are air
were printed by Macpherson.
Bi baste, qu lis n ont presque point ^ g^ ^elfort's Letters to J«n«,
.Ihumamte. R.en ne les esmeut ^f^^^^ ,„ October 1689. TI«t
Is sent peu sens.blea i Ihonneur; „,^ ^j,^ j^^j^^^ / ^
et les menaces ne les estonnent . ° - . r -j
WILLIAM AND MARY. 587
for the destruction of the English fleets and arsenals, chap.
He was in close communication with some naval officers, ^^
who, though they served the new government, served 1690.
it sullenly and with half a heart ; and he flattered
liimself that by promising these men ample rewards,
and 1)y artfully inflaming the jealous animosity with
which they regarded the Dutch flag, he should prevail
on them to desert and to carry their ships into some
French or Irish port.*
The conduct of Penn was scarcely less scandalous. Penn.
He was a zealous and busy Jacobite; and his new way
of life was even more unfavourable than his late way
of life had been to moral purity. It was hardly pos-
sible to be at once a consistent Quaker and a courtier :
but it was utterly impossible to be at once a consistent
Quaker and a conspirator. It is melancholy to relate
that Penn, while professing to consider even defensive
war as sinful, did every thing in his power to bring a
foreign army into the heart of his own country. He
wrote to inform James that the adherents of the Prince
of Orange dreaded notliing so much as an appeal to
the sword, and that^ if England were now invaded from
France or from Ireland, the number of Royalists would
appear to be greater than ever. Avaux thought this
hitter so important, that he sent a translation of it
to Lewis.f A good effect, the shrewd ambassador wTote,
* Life of James, ii. 443. 450. ; The Mt'moire des Nouvelles d'An-
and Trials of Ashlon and Pros- gleterre et d'Escosse, which was
ton. sent with this despatch, begins with
-f- Avaux wrote thus to Lewis on the following sentences, which must
tlie 5th of June I689: "H nous have been part of Penn's letter:
est veim des nouvelles assez con- " Le Prince d*Orange commence
siderables d'Angleterre etd'Escosse. d'estre fort degoutt^ de Thumeur
Je medonne Thonneurden envoyer des Anglois; ct la face des choses
des memoires k vostre Majestd, change bien viste, selon la nature
tols que jo les ay receus du Koy de des insulaires ; et sa sante est fort
la Grande Brcugne. Le commence- mauvaise. H y a un nuage qui
inent des nouvelles dattecs d'Angle- commence a se former au nord des
terre est la copie d*une lettre de deux royaumes, ou le Roy a beau- •'
M. Pen, que j'ay veuc en originaL" coup d'amis, ce qui donne beaucoup
588 HISTOBT OV ENGLAISB.
had been produced, by this and similar communicationg,
on the mind of King James. His Majesty was at last
convinced that he could recover his dominions only
sword in hand. It is a curious fact that it should
have been reserved for the great preacher of peace to
produce this conviction in the mind of the old tyrant*
Penn's proceedings had not escaped the observatioa
of the government. Warrants had been out against
him ; and he had been taken into custody ; but the
evidence against him had not been such as would sup-
port a charge of high treason : he had, as, with all bis
faults, he deserved to have, many friends in every party;
he therefore soon regained his liberty, and returned to
his plots. t
Preston. But the chief conspirator was Richard Graham,
Viscount Preston, who had, in the late reign, been
Secretary of State. Though a peer in Scotland, he was
only a baronet in England. He had, indeed, received
from Saint Germains an English patent of nobility;
but the patent bore a date posterior to that flight
which the Convention had pronounced an abdication.
The Lords had, therefore, not only refused to admit
him to a share of their privileges, but had sent him to
prison for presuming to call himself one of their order.
He had, however, by humbling himself, and by with-
drawing his claim, obtained his liberty. J Though the
submissive language which lie had condescended to use
on this occasion did not indicate a spirit prepared for
d*iiiquii'tude aux principaux amis suad^ le Roy d*Anglctcrre qull se
du Prince d'Orange, qui, estant recouvrera ses estats queles arisc«i
richer commencent a estre persua- la main; et ce n'est pas pea de i'ea
dez que ce sera Tespee qui d^cidera avoir convaincu."
de leur sort, ce qu'ils ont taut tach^ j* Van Citters to the States
d'^viter. lis apprt'hendent une in- General, March -j^y. l6S9. VanCit-
vasion d*Irlande et de France; et ters calls Penn '* den hekendeo
en ce cas le Roy aura plus d'amis Archquaker."
que jamais.'* _ J See his trial in the Collection
♦ *' Le bon effet, Sire, que ces of State Trials, and the Loriii'
lettres d'Escosse et d'Angleterre ont Journals of Novell, 12, aud 2".
produit, est qu'ellea ont enfin per- 1689.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 589
martyrdom, he was regarded by his party, and by the chap.
world in general, as a man of courage and honour. ^'
He still retained the seals of his office, and was still ^^90.
considered by the adherents of indefeasible hereditary
right as the real Secretary of State. He was in high
favour with Lewis, at whose court he had formerly
resided, and had, since the Revolution, been intrusted
by the French government with considerable sums of
money for political purposes.*
While Preston was consulting in the capital with the
other heads of the faction, the rustic Jacobites were lay-
ing in arms, holding musters, and forming themselves
into companies, troops, and regiments. There were
alarming symptoms in Worcestershire. In Lancashire
many gentlemen had received commissions signed by
James, called themselves colonels and captains, and
made out long lists of noncommissioned officers and
privates. Letters from Yorkshire brought news that
large bodies of men, who seemed to have met for no
good purpose, had been seen on the moors near Knares-
lx)rough. Letters from Newcastle gave an account of
a great match at football which had been played in
Northumberland, and was suspected to have been a
pretext for a gathering of the disaffected. In the
crowd, it was said, were a hundred and fifty horsemen
well mounted and armed, of whom many were Papists.f
Meantime packets of letters full of treason were con-
stantly passing and repassing between Kent and Pi-
cardy, and between Wales and Ireland. Some of the
messengers were honest fanatics : but others were mere
mercenaries, and trafficked in the secrets of which they
were the bearers.
* One reniitUnce of two thou- standing Melfort*s appointment,
aand pistoles is mentioned in a letter f Narcissus Luttrell's Diary ;
of Croissy to AvauXyFeb. j-g. 1689. Commons' Journals, May 14,15.
James, in a letter dated Jan. 26. 20. I69O; Kingston's True History,
1689, directs Preston to consider l697.
himself as still Secretary, notwith-
FuUer.
590 HI8T0BT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Of these double traitors the most remarkable vas
^^' WiUiam Fuller. This man has himself told us that,
1690. when he was very young, he fell in with a pamphlet
bi^^bT ^^^^^ contained an account of the flagitious Wfe and
trayed by horrible death of Dangerfield. The boy's imagination
was set on fire: he devoured the book: he almost got
it by heart; and he was soon seized, and ever after
haunted, by a strange presentiment that his fate would
resemble that of the wretched adventurer whose histoiy
he had so eageriy read.* It might have been supposed
that the prospect of dying in Newgate, with a back
flayed and an eye knocked out, would not have seemed
very attractive. But experience proves that there are
some distempered minds for which notoriety, even when
accompanied with pain and shame, has an irresistible
fascination. Animated by this loatlisome ambition,
Fuller equalled, and perhaps surpassed, his model. He
was bred a Roman Catholic, and was page to Lady
Melfort, when Lady Melfort shone at Whitehall as one
of the loveliest women' in the train of Mary of Mo-
dena. After the Revolution, he followed his mistress
to France, was repeatedly employed in delicate and pe-
rilous commissions, and was thought at Saint Germains
to be a devoted servant of the House of Stuart. In
truth, however, he had, in one of his journeys to Lon-
don, sold himself to the new government, and had
abjured the faith in which he had been brought up.
The honour, if it is to be so called, of turning him
from a worthless Papist into a worthless Protestant he
ascribed, with characteristic impudence, to the lucid
reasoning and blameless life of Tillotson.
♦ The Whole Life of Mr. William therein, with his Hearty Repentance
Fuller, being an Impartial Account of for the Misdemeanours he did in
his Birth, Education, Relations and the late Reign, and all others whom
Introduction into the Service of the he hath injured ; impartiaUv wrii
late King James and his Queen, by Himself during his Confinement
together with a True Discovery of in the Queen's Bench, 1703. Of
the Intrigues for which he lies now course I shall use this uarratire
confined; as also of the Persons with caution,
that employed and assisted him
WILLIAM AND AIABY. 591
In the spring of 1690, Mary of Modena wished to chap.
send to her correspondents in London some highly iin- ^^'
portant despatches. As these despatches were too 1690.
bulky to be concealed in the clothes of a single mes-
senger, it was necessary to employ two confidential
persons. Fuller was one. The other was a zealous
young Jacobite called Crone. Before they set out, they
received full instructions from the Queen herself. Not
a scrap of paper was to be detected about them by an
ordinary search: but their buttons contained letters
written in invisible ink.
The pair proceeded to Calais. The governor of that
town furnished them with a boat, which, under cover
of the night, set them on the low marshy coast of Kent,
near the lighthouse of Dungeness. They walked to a
farmhouse, procured horses, and took different roads to
London. . Fuller hastened to the palace at Kensington,
and delivered the documents with which he was charged
into the King's hand. The first letter which William
unrolled seemed to contain only florid compliments:
but a pan of charcoal was lighted : a liquor well known
to the diplomatists of that age was applied to the paper :
an unsavoury steam filled the closet; and lines full of
grave meaning began to appear.
The first thing to be done was to secure Crone. He Crone
had unfortunately had time to deliver his letters before
he was caught : but a snare was laid for him into which
he easily fell. In truth the sincere Jacobites were ge-
nerally wretched plotters. There was among them an
unusually large proportion of sots, braggarts, and bab-
blers; and Crone was one of these. Had he been wise,
he would have shunned places of public resort, kept
strict guard over his lips, and stinted himself to one
bottle at a meal. He was found by the messengers of
the government at a tavern table in Gracechurch Street,
swallowing bumpers to the health of King James, and
ranting about the coming restoration, the French fleet,
arrested.
592 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, and the thousands of honest Englishmen who were
L awaiting the signal to rise in arms for their rightful
^^90. Sovereign. He was carried to the Secretary's office at
Whitehall. He at first seemed to be coiident and
at his ease : but when Fuller appeared among the by-
standers at liberty, and in a fashionable garb, with a
sword, the prisoner's courage fell; and he was scarcelj
able to articulate. *
The news that Fuller had turned king's evidence,
that Crone had been arrested, and that important let-
ters from Saint Germains were in the hands of William,
flew fast through London, and spread dismay among
all who were conscious of guilt.f It was true that
the testimony of one witness, even if that witness had
been more respectable than Fuller, was not legaDj
sufficient to convict any person of high treason. But
Fuller had so managed matters that several witnesses
could be produced to corroborate his evidence against
Crone ; and, if Crone, under the strong terror of death,
should imitate Fuller's example, the heads of all the
chiefs of the conspiracy would be at the mercy of the
government. The spirits of the Jacobites rose, how-
ever, when it was known that Crone, though repeatedly
interrogated by those who had him in their power, and
though assured that nothing but a frank confession
could save his life, had resolutely continued silent.
What effect a verdict of Guilty and the near prospect
of the gallows might produce on him remained to be
seen. His accomplices were by no means willing that
his fortitude should be tried by so severe a test. They
therefore employed numerous artifices, legal and illegal,
to avert a conviction. A woman named Clifford, with
whom he had lodged, and who was one of the most
active and cunning agents of the Jacobite faction, was
entrusted with the duty of keeping him steady to the
* Fdler's Life of himself. f Clarendon's Diary, March 6.
1690 ; Narcissus Luttrell's Diary.
WILLIAM AND MART. 593
cause, and of rendering to him services from which chap.
scrupulous or timid agents might have shrunk. When L
the dreaded day came, Fuller was too ill to appear in ^^90.
the witness box, and the trial was consequently post-
poned. He asserted that his malady was not natural,
that a noxious drug had been administered to him in a
dish of porridge, that his nails were discoloured, that his
hair came off, and that able physicians pronounced him
poisoned. But such stories, even when they rest on
authority much better than that of Fuller, ought to be
received with very great distrust.
While Crone was awaiting his trial, another agent
of the Court of Saint Germains, named Tempest, was
seized on the road between Dover and London, and was
found to be the bearer of numerous letters addressed to
malecontents in England.* Every day it became more
plain that the State was surrounded by dangers : and
yet it was absolutely necessary that, at this conjuncture,
the able and resolute Chief of the State should quit his
post.
WiUiam, with painful anxiety, such as he alone was nifficuitict
able to conceal under an appearance of stoical serenity, ®^^*^^**°-
prepared to take his departure. Mary was in agonies
of grief; and her distress affected him more than was
imagined by those who judged of his heart by his de-
meanour.f He knew too that he was about to leave
her surrounded by difficulties with which her habits
had not qualified her to contend. She would be in
constant need of wise and upright counsel; and where
was such counsel to be found ? There were indeed
among his servants many able men and a few virtuous
men. But, even when he was present, their political
and personal animosities had too often made both their
abilities and their virtues useless to him. What chance
* Clarendon's Diary, May 10. plains la povre reine, qui est en des
1690. tenribles afflictions."
t He wrote to Portland, " Je
VOL. in. Q Q
594 mSTOBY OF englakd.
CHAP, was there that the gentle Mary would be able to re-
^^' strain that party spirit and that emulation which had
1690. been but very imperfectly kept in order by her resolute
and politic lord ? K the interior cabinet which was to
assist the Queen were composed exclusively either of
Whigs or of Tories, half the nation would be disgusted.
Yet, if Whigs and Tories were mixed, it was certain
that there would be constant dissension. Such was
William's situation that he had only a choice of evils.
Conductor All these difficulties were increased by the conduct
bnJy7*^ of Shrewsbury. The character of this man is a curious
study. He seemed to be the petted fevourite both d
nature and of fortune. Illustrious birth, exalted rank,
ample possessions, fine parts, extensive acquirements,
an agreeable person, manners singukrly graxjeful and
engaging, combined to make him an object of admirsr
tion and envy. But, with all these advantages, he had
some moral and intellectual peculiarities which made
him a torment to himself and to all connected with him.
His conduct at the time of the Revolution had given the
world a high opinion, not merely of his patriotism, but
of his courage, energy and decision. It should seem,
however, that youthful enthusiasm and the exhilaration
produced by public sympathy and applause had, on that
occasion, raised him above himself. Scarcely any other
part of his life was of a piece with that splendid com-
mencement. He had hardly become Secretary of State
when it appeared that his nerves were too weak for such
a post. The daily toil, the heavy responsibility, the
failures, the mortifications, the obloquy, which are in-
separable from power, broke his spirit, soured his tem-
per, and impaired his health. To such natures as his
the sustaining power of high religious principle seems to
be peculiarly necessary ; and unfortunately Shrewsbury
had, in the act of shaking off the yoke of that supersti-
tion in which he had been brought up, liberated himself
also from more salutary bands which might perhaps
WILLIAM AND MABT. 595
have braced his too delicately constituted mind into
stedfastness and uprightness. Destitute of such sup-
port, he was, with great abilities, a weak man, and, i6*9a
though endowed with many amiable and attractive
qualities, could not be called an honest man. For his
own happiness, he should either have been much better
or much worse. As it was, he never knew either that
noble peace of mind which is the reward of rectitude,
or that abject peace of mind which springs from impu-
dence and insensibility. Few people who have had so
little power to resist temptation have suffered so cruelly
from remorse and shame.
To a man of this temper the situation of a minister
of state during the year which followed the Revolution
must have been constant torture. The difficulties by
which the government was beset on all sides, the malig-
nity of its enemies, the unreasonableness of its friends,
the virulence with which the hostile factions fell on each
other and on every mediator who attempted to part
them, might indeed have discouraged a more resolute
spirit. Before Shrewsbury had been six months in
office, he had completely lost heart and head. He began
to address to William letters which it is difficult to
imagine that a prince so strongminded can have read
without mingled compassion and contempt. "I am
sensible," — such was the constant burden of these epis-
tles,— "that I am unfit for my place. I cannot exert
myself. I am not the same man that I was half a year
ago. My health is giving way. My mind is on the
rack. My memory is failing. Nothing but quiet and
retirement can restore me." William returned friendly
and soothing answers; and, for a time, these answers
calmed the troubled mind of his minister.* But at
length the dissolution, the general election, the change
in the Commissions of Peace and Lieutenancy, and
* See the Letters of Shrewsbury in Coxe's Correspondence^ Part L
chap. i.
QQ 2
596 HISTOBT OF ENGLAKD.
CHAP, finally the debates on the two Abjuration Bills, tlurew
][l Shrewsbury into a state bordering on distraction. He
1690. -^as angry with the Whigs for using the King ill, and
yet was still more angry with the King for showing
favour to the Tories. At what moment and by what
influence the unhappy man was induced to conmiit a
treason, the consciousness of which threw a dark shade
over all his remaining years, is not accurately known.
But it is highly probable that his mother, -who, though
the most abandoned of women, had great power over
him, took a fatal advantage of some unguarded hour,
when he was irritated by finding his advice slighted,
and that of Danby and Nottingham preferred. She
was still a member of that Church which her son had
quitted, and may have thought that, by reclaiming him
from rebellion, she might make some atonement for the
violation of her marriage vow and the murder of her
lord.* What is certain is that, before the end of the
spring of 1690, Shrewsbury had ojBfered his services to
James, and that James had accepted them. One proof
of the sincerity of the convert was demanded. He
must resign the seals which he had taken from the
hand of the usurper.f It is probable that Shrewsbury
had scarcely committed his fault when he began to
repent of it. But he had not strength of mind to stop
short in the path of evil. Loathing his own baseness,
dreading a detection which must be fatal to his honour,
afraid to go forward, afraid to go back, he underwent
tortures of which it is impossible to think without com-
♦ That Lady Shrewsbury was a Comte de Shrusbery, qui, efant 8c-
Jacobite, and did her best to make cr^taire d'Etat du Prince d'Orange,
her son so, is certain from Lloyd's s'est defait de sa charge par idoo
Paper of May 1694, which is among ordre." One copy of this moit
the Nairne MSS., and was printed valuable paper is in the Archires of
by Macpherson. the French Foreign Office. Another
f This is proved by a few words is among the Nairne MSS. in the
in a paper which James, in Novem- Bodleian Library. A translation
her 1692, laid before the French into English will be found in Mic-
government. *' II y a," says he, '* le pherson's collection.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 597
miseration. The true cause of his distress was as yet chap.
a profound secret : but his mental struggles and changes ^^'
of purpose were generally known, and furnished the 1690.
town, during some weeks, with topics of conversation.
One night, when he was actually setting out in a state
of great excitement for the palace, with the seals in his
hand, he was induced by Bumet to defer his resignation
for a few hours. Some days later, the eloquence of
Tillotson was employed for the same purpose.* Three
or four times the Earl laid the ensigns of his office on
the table of the royal closet, and was three or four times
induced, by the kind expostulations of the master whom
he was conscious of having wronged, to take them up
and carry them away. Thus the resignation was de-
ferred till the eve of tlie King's departure. By that
time agitation had thrown Shrewsbury into a low fever.
Bentinck, who made a last elBFbrt to persuade him to
retain office, found him in bed and too ill for con-
versation.! The resignation so often tendered was at
length accepted; and during some months Nottingham
was the only Secretary of State.
It was no small addition to William's troubles that. The Coun.
at such a moment, his government should be weakened ®*^®'^»°«-
by this defection. He tried, however, to do his best
with the materials which remained to him, and finally
selected nine privy councillors, by whose advice he en-
joined Mary to be guided. Four of these, Devonshire,
Dorset, Monmouth, and Edward Russell, were Whigs.
The other five, Caermarthen, Pembroke, Nottingham,
Marlborough, and Lowther, were Tories. J
* Burnet, ii. 45. manuscript copy of this satire, evi-
f Shrewsbury to Somers, Sept. dently contemporary, and bearing
22. 1697. the date I69O. It is indeed evident
{ Among the State Poems (vol. at a glance that the nine persons
ii. p. 211.) will be found a piece satirised are the nine members ot
which some ignorant editor has en- the interior council which William
titled, ** A Satyr written when the appointed to assist Mary when he
K went to Flanders and left went to Ireland. Some of them
nine Lords Justioes.** I have a never were Lords Justices.
QQ 3
598 HISTOBT OF BNOLAND.
William ordered the Nine to attend him at the office
of the Secretary of State. When they were assembled,
1 690. ixe came leading in the Queen, desired them to be seated,
and addressed to them a few earnest and weighty words.
" She wants experience," he said; "but I hope that, by
choosing you to be her counsellors, I have supplied that
defect. I put my kingdom into your hands. Nothing
foreign or domestic shall be kept secret from yon. I
implore you to be diligent and to be united." • In
private he told his wife what he thought of the charac-
ters of the Nine ; and it should seem, from her letters
to him, that there were few of the number for whom
he expressed any high esteem. Marlborough was to
be her guide in military affairs, and was to conmiand
the troops in England. Eussell, who was Admiral of
the Blue, and had been rewarded for the service which
he had done at the time of the Revolution with the
lucrative place of Treasurer of the Navy, was wdl
fitted to be her adviser on all questions relating to the
fleet. But Caermarthen was designated as the person
on whom, in case of any difference of opinion in the
council, she ought chiefly to rely. Caermarthen's sa-
gacity and experience were unquestionable: his prin-
ciples, indeed, were lax : but, if there was any person
in existence to whom he was likely to be true, that
person was Mary. He had long been in a peculiar
manner her friend and servant : he had gained a high
place in her favour by bringing about her marriage ;
and he had, in the Convention, carried his zeal for her
interests to a length which she had herself blamed as
excessive. There was, therefore, every reason to hope
that he would serve her at this critical conjuncture with
sincere good will.f
Conduct of One of her nearest kinsmen, on the other hand, was
Clarendon. ' '
* From a narrative written by t See Mary's Letters to William,
Lowther, which is among the published by Dairy mple.
Mackintosh MSS.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 699
one of her bitterest enemies. The evidence which was
in the possession of the government proved beyond dis-
pute that Clarendon was deeply concerned in the Jaco-
bite schemes of insurrection. But the Queen was most
unwilling that her kindred should be harshly treated;
and William, remembering through what ties she had
broken, and what reproaches she had incurred, for his
sake, readily gave her uncle's life and liberty to her
intercession. But, before the King set out for Ireland,
he spoke seriously to Rochester. " Your brother has
been plotting against me. I am sure of it. I have the
proofs under his own hand. I was urged to leave him
out of the Act of Grace ; but I would not do what
would have given so much pain to the Queen. For her
sake I forgive the past; but my Lord Clarendon will do
well to be cautious for the future. K not, he will find
that these are no jesting matters." Rochester com-
municated the admonition to Clarendon. Clarendon,
who was in constant correspondence with Dublin and
Saint Grermains, protested that his only wish was to be
quiet, and that, though he had a scruple about the
oaths, the existing government had not a more obedient
subject than he purposed to be.*
Among the letters which the government had inter- Penn hrfd
cepted was one from James to Penn. That letter,
indeed^ was not legal evidence to prove that the person
to whom it was addressed had been guilty of high
treason; but it raised suspicions which are now known
to have been well founded. Penn was brought before
the Privy Council, and interrogated. He said very
truly that he could not prevent people from writing to
him, and that he was not accountable for what they
might, write to him. He acknowledged that he was
bound to the late King by ties of gratitude and afiec-
tion which no change of fortune could dissolve. "I
should be glad to do him any service in his private
♦ Clarendon's Diary, May 30. lf)<>0.
uu 4
600 HISTORY OF EKGLAJSTD.
CHAP, affairs: but I owe a sacred duty to my country; and
^^' therefore I was never so wicked as even to think of
1690. endeavouring to bring him back." This was a false*
hood; and William was probably aware that it was so.
He was unwilling however to deal harshly with a man
who had many titles to respect, and who was not likely
to be a very formidable plotter. He therefore declared
himself satisfied, and proposed to dischai^e the prisoner.
Some of the Privy Councillors, however, remonstrated;
and Penn was required to give bail.*
Interview On the day before William's departure, he called
wmmm Burnet into his closet, and, in firm but mournful
•nd Burnet language, spokc of the dangers which on every side
menaced the realm, of the fdry of the contending Mic-
tions, and of the evil spirit which seemed to possess too
many of the clergy. " But my trust is in God. I will
go through with my work or perish in it. Only I
cannot help feeling for the poor Queen;" and twice he
repeated with unwonted tenderness, " the poor Queen."
" If you love me," he added, " wait on her often, and give
her what help you can. As for me, but for one thing,
I should enjoy the prospect of being on horseback and
under canvass again. For I am sure I am fitter to
direct a campaign than to manage your Houses of Lords
and Commons. But, though I know that I am in the
path of duty, it is hard on my wife that her father and I
must be opposed to each other in the field. God send
that no harm may happen to him. Let me have your
prayers. Doctor." Burnet retired greatly moved, and
doubtless put up, with no common fervour, those prayers
for which his master had asked, f
William On the following day, the fourth of June, the King
ireiari^^"^ set out for Ireland. Prince George had oflTered his
services, had equipped himself at great charge, and fully
expected to be complimented with a seat in the royal
coach. But William, who promised himself little pleasure
♦ Gerard Croesc. f Burnet, ii. 46.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 601
or advantage from His Royal Highness's conversation, chap.
and who seldom stood on ceremony, took Portland for a ^^'
travelling companion, and never once, during the whole i^DO.
of that eventfiil campaign, seemed to be aware of the
Prince's existence.* George, if left to himself, would
hardly have noticed the affront. But, though he was
too dull to feel, his wife felt for him; and her resent-
ment was studiously kept alive by mischiefmakers of
no common dexterity. On this, as on many other
occasions, the infirmities of William's temper proved
seriously detrimental to the great interests of which
he was the guardian. His reign would have been far
more prosperous if, with his own courage, capacity
and elevation of mind, he had had a little of the easy
good humour and politeness of his uncle Charles.
In four days the King arrived at Chester, where a fleet
of transports was awaiting the signal for sailing. He
embarked on the eleventh of Jime, and was convoyed
across Saint George's Channel by a squadron of men of
war under the command of Sir Cloudesley ShoveLf
The month which followed William's departure from Trial of
London was one of the most eventful and anxious ^^^^
months in the whole history of England. A few hours
after he had set out. Crone was brought to the bar of the
Old Bailey. A great array of judges was on the Bench.
Fuller had recovered sufficiently to make his appearance
in court; and the trial proceeded. The Jacobites had
been indefatigable in their efforts to ascertain the po-
litical opinions of the persons whose names were on the
jury list. So many were challenged that there was
some difficulty in making up the number of twelve ; and
among the twelve was one on whom the malecontents
thought that they could depend. Nor were they alto-
* The Duchess of Marlborough's from Chester^ June -^. Hop at-
Vindication. tended William to Ireland as envoy
f London Gazettes^ June 5. 12. from theSutes.
16. 1690 ; Hop to the States General
602 HISTORY OF ENQLAin).
CHAP, getlier mistaken; for this man held out against his
^^' eleven companions all night and half the next day; and
1690. he would probably have starved them into submiisfflon
had not Mrs. Clifford, who was in league with him, be^
caught throwing sweetmeats to him through the inn-
dow. His supplies having been cut off, he yielded;
and a verdict of Ghiilty, which, it was said, cost two of
the jurjmien their lives, was returned. A motion in
arrest of judgment was instantly made, on the ground
that a Latin word indorsed on the back of the indict-
ment was incorrectly spelt. The objection was un-
doubtedly frivolous. Jeffreys would have at once
overruled it with a torrent of curses, and would have
proceeded to the most agreeable part of his duty, thit
of describing to the prisoner the whole process of half
hanging, disembowelUng, mutilating, and qnarteiiDg.
But Holt and his brethren remembered that they were
now for the first time since the Revolution trying a
culprit on a charge of high treason. It was therefore
desirable to show, in a manner not to be misunder-
stood, that a new era had commenced, and that the
tribimals would in future rather err on the side of
humanity than imitate the cruel haste and levity with
which Cornish had, when pleading for his life, been
silenced by servile judges. The passing of the sentence
was therefore deferred : a day was appointed for con-
sidering the point raised by Crone ; and cotmsel were
assigned to argue in his behalf. " This would not have
been done, Mr. Crone," said the Lord Chief Justice
significantly, " in either of the last two reigns." After
a full hearing, the Bench unanimously pronounced the
error to be immaterial ; and the prisoner was con-
demned to death. He owned that his trial had been
fair, thanked the judges for their patience, and besought
them to intercede for him with the Queen.*
• Clarendon's Diary, June 7. Diary ; Baden, the Dutch Secretary
and 12. I69O; Narcissus Luttrell's of Legation, to Van Citters, Juoe
WILLIAM AND MABT. 608
He was soon informed that his fate was in his own chap.
hands. The government was willing to spare him if he L
would earn his pardon by a fall confession. The struggle 1690.
in his mind was terrible and doubtful. At one time
Mrs. ClifFord, who had access to his cell, reported to the
Jacobite chiefs that he was in a great agony. He could
not die, he said : he was too young to be a martyr.*
The next morning she found him cheerful and resolute.f
He held out till the eve of the day fixed for his execu-
tion. Then he sent to ask for an interview with the
Secretary of State. Nottingham went to Newgate;
but, before he arrived. Crone had changed his mind
and was determined to say nothing. "Then," said
Nottingham, " I shall see you no more ; for tomorrow
will assuredly be your last day." But, after Notting-
ham had departed, Monmouth repaired to the gaol, and
flattered himself that he had shaken the prisoner's re-
solution. At a very late hour that night came a respite
for a week. J The week however passed away without
any disclosure : the gallows and quartering block were
ready at Tyburn : the sledge and axe were at the door
of Newgate : the crowd was thick all up Holbom Hill
and along the Oxford Road ; when a messenger brought
another respite, and Crone, instead of being dragged to
the place of execution, was conducted to the Council
chamber at Whitehall. His fortitude had been at last
overcome by the near prospect of death ; and on this
occasion he gave important information.§
Such information as he had it in his power to give Danger of
was indeed at that moment much needed. Both an ^TiMur-
invasion and an insurrection were hourly expected. || ^^^^ ,
Scarcely had William set out from London when a great fleet in the
Channel.
i%. ; Fallex^a Life of himself; Wd- J Baden to Van Cittera, June ?§.
wood's Merenrius Reformatos^ Jane I69O.; Clarendon's Diary^ June I9.;
11. 1690. Narcissus Luttrell's Diary.
* Clarendon's Diary^ June 8. § Clarendon's Diary, June 25.
1690. I Narcissus Luttrell's Diary.
f Ckraidon'a Diary^ June 10.
604 HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. French fleet commanded by the Count of Tourville left
^^' the port of Brest and entered the Britisli Channel
16'90. Tourville was the ablest maritime commander that his
country then possessed. He had studied every part of
his profession. It was said of him that he wbs competent
to fill any place on shipboard from that of carpenter up
to that of admiral. It was said of him, also, that to the
daimtless courage of a seaman he united the suavity
and urbanity of an accomplished gentleman.* He now
stood over to the English shore, and approached it so
near that his ships could be plainly descried from the
ramparts of Plymouth. From Plymouth he proceeded
slowly along the coast of Devonshire and Dorsetshire.
There was great reason to apprehend that his mov^
ments had been concerted with the English malecon-
tents.f
The Queen and her Council hastened to take measures
for the defence of the country against both foreign and
domestic enemies. Torrington took the command of the
English fleet which lay in the Downs, and sailed to
Saint Helen's. He was there joined by a Dutch squadron
under the command of Evertsen. It seemed that the
cliff^s of the Isle of Wight would witness one of the
greatest naval conflicts recorded in liistory. A hundred
and fifty ships of the line could be counted at once
from the watchtower of Saint Catharine's. On the east
of the huge precipice of Black Gang Chine, and in full
view of the richly wooded rocks of Saint Lawrence and
Ventnor, were mustered the maritime forces of Eng-
land and HoUand. On the west, stret.ching to that
white cape where the waves roar among the Needles,
lay the armament of France.
Arrests of It was ou the twenty sixth of June, less than a fort-
p™!"^ night after WiUiam had sailed for Ireknd, that the hos-
tile fleets took up these positions. A few hours earlier,
* Memoirs of Saint Simon. f London Gazette, June 2().
I69O; Baden to Van Citters, ^.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 605
there had been an important and anxious sitting of chap.
the Privy Council at Whitehall. The malecontents ^^'
who were leagued with France were alert and fuU of 1690.
hope. Mary had remarked, while taking her airing,
that Hyde Park was swarming with them. The whole
board was of opinion that it was necessary to arrest
some persons of whose guilt the government had proofs.
When Clarendon was named, something was said in
his behalf by his friend and relation, Sir Henry CapeL
The other councillors stared, but remained silent. It
was no pleasant task to accuse the Queen's kinsman in
the Queen's presence. Mary had scarcely ever opened
her lips at Council : but now, being possessed of clear
proofs of her uncle's treason in his own handwriting,
and knowing that respect for her prevented her ad-
visers from proposing what the public safety required,
she broke silence. " Sir Henry," she said, " I know,
and every body here knows as well as I, that there
is too much against my Lord Clarendon to leave him
out." The warrant was drawn up ; and Capel signed
it with the rest. " I am more sorry for Lord Claren-
don," Mary wrote to her husband, " than, may be, will be
believed." That evening Clarendon and several other
noted Jacobites were lodged in the Tower.*
When the Privy Coimcil had risen, the Queen and the Tomr^on
interior Council of Nine had to consider a question of ^"^e bftuS
the gravest importance. What orders were to be sent to to Tour.
Torrington? The safety of the State might depend on
his judgment and presence of mind; and some of Mary's
advisers apprehended that he would not be foimd equal
to the occasion. Their anxiety increased when news
came that he had abandoned the coast of the Isle of
Wight to the French, and was retreating before them
towards the Straits of Dover. The sagacious Caermar-
then and the enterprising Monmouth agreed in blaming
* Mary to William, June 26. I69O; Clarendon's Diary of the same
date ; Nardiaiia Luttrell's Diary.
606 HISTORY OF BNQLAND*
these cautious tactics. It was true that Torrington
had not so many vessels as Tourville: but Caermarthen
1690. thought that, at such a time, it was advisable to figb^
although against odds ; and Monmouth was, through life,
for fighting at all times and against all odds. BusseD,
who was indisputably one of the best seamen of the age,
held that the disparity of numbers was not such as
ought to cause any uneasiness to an officer who cmn*
manded English and Dutch sailors. He therefore pro-
posed to send to the Admiral a reprimand coached in
terms so severe that the Queen did not like to sign
it. The language was much softened ; but, in the
main, Eussell's advice was followed. Torrington was
positively ordered to retreat no further, and to give
battle immediately. Devonshire, however, was stiD
imsatisfied. "It is my duty, Madam," he said, "to
teU Your Majesty exactly what I think on a matter of
this importance; and I think that my Lord Torrington
is not a man to be trusted with the fi&te of three king-
doms." Devonshire was right : but his colleagues were
unanimously of opinion that to supersede a commander
in sight of the enemy, and on the eve of a general
action, would be a course full of danger; and it is dif-
ficult to say that they were wrong. " You must either,"
said Kussell, " leave him where he is, or send for him
as a prisoner." Several expedients were suggested.
Caermarthen proposed that Kussell should be sent to
assist Torrington. Monmouth passionately implored
permission to join the fleet in any capacity, as a cap-
tain, or as a volunteer. " Only let me be once on board;
and I pledge my life that there shall be a battle."
After much discussion and hesitation, it was resolved
that both Russell and Monmouth should go down to
the coast. * They set out, but too late. The despatch
which ordered Torrington to fight had preceded them.
It reached him when he was off Beachy Head. He
♦ Mary to William, June 28. and July 2. I69O.
WILLIAM AND MART. 607
read it, and was in a great strait. Not to give battle chap.
was to be guilty of direct disobedience. To give battle L
was, in his judgment, to incur serious risk of defeat. He 1690.
probably suspected, — ^for he was of a captious and jealous
temper, — ^that the instructions which placed him in so
painful a dilemma had been framed by enemies and
rivals with a design unfriendly to his fortune and his
fame. He was exasperated by the thought that he was
ordered about and overruled by Kussell, who, though
his inferior in professional rank, exercised, as one of the
Council of Nine, a supreme control over all the depart-
ments of the public service. There seems to be no
ground for charging Torrington with disaffection. Still
less can it be suspected that an officer, whose whole life
had been passed in confronting danger, and who had
always borne himself bravely, wanted the personal cou-
rage which hundreds of sailors on board of every ship
imder his command possessed. But there is a higher
courage of which Torrington was wholly destitute. He
shrank from all responsibility, from the responsibility of
fighting, and from the responsibility of not fighting ; and
he succeeded in finding out a middle way which imited
aU the inconveniences which he wished to avoid. He
would conform to the letter of his instructions : yet
he would not put every thing to hazard. Some of his
ships should skirmish with the enemy : but the great
"body of his fleet should not be risked. It was evident
that the vessels which engaged the French would be
placed in a most dangerous situation, and would sufier
much loss; and there is but too good reason to believe
that Torrington was base enough to lay his plans in
such a manner that the danger and loss might fall al-
most exclusively to the share of the Dutch. He bore
them no love; and in England they were so unpopular
that the destruction of their whole squadron was likely
to cause fewer murmurs than the capture of one of
our own frigates.
608 HISTORY OF BKGLAND.
CHAP. It was on the twenty ninth of June that the Admiral
^^' received the order to fight. The next day, at four in the
1690. morning, he bore down on the French fleet, and formed
B^Mhy ^ his vessels in order of battle. He had not sixty sail
Head. of the line, and the French had at least eighty; but
his ships were more strongly manned than those of the
enemy. He placed the Dutch in the van and gave
them the signal to engage. That signal ivas promptly
obeyed. Evertsen and his countrjrmen fought with a
courage to which both their English allies and their
French enemies, in spite of national prejudices, did M
justice. In none of Van Tromp's or De Ruyter^s battles
had the honour of the Batavian flag been more gallantly
upheld. During many hours the van maintained tlw
unequal contest with very little assistance from any
other part of the fleet. At length the Dutch Admiral
drew ofi^, leaving one shattered and dismasted hull to
the enemy. His second in command and several officers
of high rank had fallen. To keep the sea agamst the
French after this disastrous and ignominious action
was impossible. The Dutch ships which had come out
of the fight were in lamentable condition. Torring-
ton ordered some of them to be destroyed : the rest he
took in tow : he then fled along the coast of Kent, and
sought a refuge in the Thames. As soon as he was in
the river, he ordered all the buoys to be pulled up, and
thus made the navigation so dangerous, that the pur-
suers could not venture to follow him.*
* Report of the Commissioners of Mercury for July I69O; Mary to
the Admiralty to the Queen, dated William, July 2. ; Torrington to
Sheerness, July 18. 16'90; Evi- Caermarthen, July 1. The accooct
dence of Captains Cornwall, Jones, of the battle in the Paris Gaxette of
Martin and Hubbard, and of Vice July 15. I69O is not to be reid
Admiral Delaval; Burnet ii. 52., and without shame : " On a s^eu que les
Speaker Onslow*s Note ; Mdmoires Hollandois s'estoient trea bieo battus,
du Mar^chal de Tourville ; Memoirs et qu'ils s*estoient comportei en optte
of Transactions at Sea by Josiah occasion en braves gens, mais qoe
Burchett, Esq., Secretary to the les Anglois n*en avoient pas agi de
Admiralty, 1703 ; London Gazette, roeme.'' In the French official relation
July 3.; Historical and Political of the battle off Cape Bevexier^— is
WILLIAM AND MABY. 609
It was, however, thought by many, and especially chap.
by the French ministers, that, if Tourville had been ^^'
more enterprising, the allied fleet might have been 1690.
destroyed. He seems to have borne, in one respect,
too much resemblance to his vanquished opponent.
Though a brave man, he was a timid commander. His
life he exposed with careless gaiety; but it was said
that he was nervously anxious and pusillanimously
cautious when his professional reputation was in danger.
He was so much annoyed by these censures that he
soon became, unfortunately for his country, bold even to
temerity.* *
There has scarcely ever been so sad a day in Lon- Alarm in
don as that on which the news of the Battle of Beachy ^"d°°-
Head arrived. The shame was insupportable: the
peril was imminent. What if the victorious enemy
should do what De Kuyter had done? What if the
dockyards of Chatham should again be destroyed?
What if the Tower itself should be bombarded? What
if the vast wood of masts and yardarms below London
Bridge should be in a blaze? Nor was this all. Evil
tidings had just arrived from the Low Countries. The Battle of
allied forces under Waldeck had, in the neighbourhood ^""^
of Fleurus, encountered the French commanded by the
Duke of Luxemburg. The day had been long and
fiercely disputed. At length the skill of the French
general and the impetuous valour of the French cavalry
had prevailed.! Thus at the same moment the army
of Lewis was victorious in Flanders, and his navy was
in undisputed possession of the Channel. Marshal
Humieres with a considerable force lay not far from
odd corruption of Perensey, — are lande par le peu de valeur qu'ils
tome pasMges to the same effect : montrerent dans le combat."
*' Les Hollandoii combattirent avec ♦ Life of James^ iL 409. ; Bur-
beaucoup de courage et de femiet^ ; net, ii. 5.
mais lis ne furent pas bien secondez f London Gazette, June 30.
par les Anglois." ''Les Anglois se I69O ; Historical and Political
distinguerent dea vaisseaux de Hoi- Mercury for July I69O.
VOL. ni. R R
610 HISTORY OF EKGLAKD.
CHAP, the Straits of Dover. It had been given out that he
^^' was about to join Luxemburg. But the informaticm
3690. which the English government received from able mili-
tary men in the Netherlands and from spies who mised
with the Jacobites, and which to so great a master
of the art of war as Marlborough seemed to deserve
serious attention, was, that the army of Humieres
would instantly march to Dunkirk and would there be
taken on board of the fleet of Tourville.* Between the
coast of Artois and the Nore not a single ship bearing
the red cross of Saint George could venture to show he^
self. The embarkation would be the business of a few
hours. A few hours more might suffice for the voyage.
At any moment London might be appaUed by the newB
that thirty thousand French veterans were in Kenti
and that the Jacobites of half the counties of the king-
dom were in arms. All the regular troops who couM
be assembled for the defence of the island did not
amount to more than ten thousand men. It may be
doubted whether our country has ever passed through
a more alarming crisis than that of the first week of
July 1690.
Spirit of But the evil brought with it its own remedy. Those
little knew England who imagined that she could be in
danger at once of rebellion and invasion : for in truth
the danger of invasion was the best security against
the danger of rebellion. The cause of James was the
cause of France; and, though to superficial observers
the French alliance seemed to be his chief support^ it
really was the obstacle which made his restoration im-
possible. In the patriotism, the too often unamiable
and unsocial patriotism of our forefathers, lay the s^
cret at once of William's weakness and of his strenirth.
They were jealous of his love for Holland : but they
cordially sympathized with his hatred of Lewis. To
their strong sentiment of nationality are to be ascribed
♦ Nottingham to William, July 15. 169O.
the nation.
WILLIAM Am) BfARY. 611
almost all those petty annoyances which made the chap.
throne of the Deliverer, from his accession to his death, ^^'
so uneasy a seat. But to the same sentiment it is to 1690.
be ascribed that his throne, constantly menaced and
frequently shaken, was never subverted. For, much as
his people detested his foreign favourites, they detested
his foreign adversaries still more. The Dutch were Pro-
testants: the French were Papists. The Dutch were
regarded as selfseeking, grasping, overreaching allies :
the French were mortal enemies. The worst that could
be apprehended from the Dutch was that they might
obtain too large a share of the patronage of the Crown,
that they might throw on us too large a part of the
burdens of the war, that they might obtain commercial
advantages at our expense. But the French would
conquer us : the French would enslave us : the French
would inflict on us calamities such as those which had
turned the fair fields and cities of the Palatinate into
a desert. The hopgrounds of Kent would be as the
vineyards of the Neckar. The High Street of Oxford
and the dose of Salisbury would be piled with ruins
such as those which covered the spots where the pa-
laces and churches of Heidelberg and Manheim had
once stood. The parsonage overshadowed by the old
steeple, the farmhouse peeping from among beehives
and appleblossoms, the manorial hall embosomed in
elms, would be given up to a soldiery which knew not
what it was to pity old men or delicate women or suck-
ing children. The words, " The French are coming,"
like a spell, queUed at once all murmurs about taxes
and abuses, about William's ungracious manners and
Portland's lucrative places, and raised a spirit as high
and unconquerable as had pervaded, a hundred years
before, the ranks which Elizabeth reviewed at Tilbury.
Had the army of Humieres landed, it would assuredly
have been withstood by almost every male capable of
bearing arms. Not only the muskets and pikes but
lift 2
612 HISTOBY OF BNGLAHD.
CHAP, the scythes and pitchforks would have been too few
^^' for the hundreds of thousands who, forgetting all dis-
i6yo. tinction of sect or faction, would have risen up like one
man to defend the English soil.
The immediate effect therefore of the disasters m the
Channel and in Flanders was to unite for a moment
the great body of the people. The national antips-
thy to the Dutch seemed to be suspended. Their gal*
lant conduct in the fight off Beachy Head was loudly
applauded. The inaction of Torrington was loudty
condemned. London set the example of concert and
of exertion. The irritation produced by the late elec-
tion at once subsided. All distinctions of party disap*
peared. The Lord Mayor was summoned to attend
the Queen. She requested him to ascertain as soon as
possible what the capital would undertake to do if the
enemy should venture to make a descent. He called
together the representatives of the wards, conferred with
them, and returned to Whitehall to report that they had
unanimously bound themselves to stand by the govern-
ment with life and fortune ; that a hundred thousand
pounds were ready to be paid into the Exchequer; that
ten thousand Londoners, well armed and appointed, were
prepared to march at an hour's notice ; and that an addi-
tional force, consisting of six regiments of foot, a strong
regiment of horse, and a thousand dragoons, should be
instantly raised without costing the Crown a farthing.
Of Her Majesty the City had nothing to ask, but that
she would be pleased to set over these troops officers
in whom she could confide. The same spirit was shown
in every part of the country. Though in the southern
counties the harvest was at hand, the rustics repaired
with unusual cheerfulness to the musters of the mili-
tia. The Jacobite country gentlemen, who had, du-
ring several months, been making preparations for the
general rising which was to take place as soon as
William was gone and as help arrived firom France,
WILLIAM AND MABT. 613
now that William was gone, now that a French in- chap.
vasion was hourly expected, burned their commissions
signed by James, and hid their arms behind wainscots 1^90.
or in haystacks. The Jacobites in the towns were
insulted wherever they appeared, and were forced to
shut themselves up in their houses from the exaspe-
rated populace.*
Nothing is more interesting to those who love to Conductor
study the intricacies of the human heart than the effect l^V'*'
which the public danger produced on Shrewsbury.
For a moment he was again the Shrewsbury of 1688.
His nature, lamentably imstable, was not ignoble ; and
the thought, that, by standing foremost in the defence
of his country at so perilous a crisis, he might repair
his great fault and regain his own esteem, gave new
energy to his body and his mind. He had retired
to Epsom, in the hope that quiet and pure air would
produce a salutary effect on his shattered frame and
wounded spirit. But a few hours after the news of the
Battle of Beachy Head had arrived, he was at White-
hall, and had offered his purse and sword to the Queen.
It had been in contemplation to put the fleet under the
command of some great nobleman with two experienced
naval officers to advise him. Shrewsbury begged that, if
such an arrangement were made, he might be appointed.
It concerned, he said, the interest and the honour of
every man in the kingdom not to let the enemy ride
victorious in the Channel; and he would gladly risk his
life to retrieve the lost fame of the English flag.f
His offer was not accepted. Indeed, the plan of
dividing the naval command between a man of quality
who did not know the points of the compass, and two
weatherbeaten old seamen who had risen from being
cabin boys to be Admirals, was very wisely laid aside.
• Bnrnet, ii. 53, 54.; Narcisaus f Mary to William, July 3. 10.
Lnttrell's Diary, July 7. 11. 16'90; 169O; Shrewsbury to Caermarthen,
London Gasette, July 14. I69O. July 15.
R R 8
614 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. Active exertions were made to prepare the allied squa-
^^' drons for service. Nothing was omitted which could
1690. assuage the natural resentment of the Dutch. The
Queen sent a Privy Councillor, charged with a special
mission to the States General. He was the bearer of
a letter to them in which she extolled the valour of
Evertsen's gallant squadron. She assured th^n that
their ships should be repaired in the English dock-
yards, and that the wounded Dutchmen should be as
carefully tended as wounded Englishmen. It was an-
nounced that a strict inquiry would be instituted into
the causes of the late disaster; and Torrington, who
indeed could not at that moment have appeared m
public without risk of being torn in pieces, was sent to
the Tower.*
During the three days which followed the arrival of
the disastrous tidings from Beachy Head the aspect
of London was gloomy and agitated. But on the
fourth day all was changed. Bells were pealing: flags
were flying: candles were arranged in the windows
for an illumination : men were eagerly shaking hands
mth each other in the streets. A courier had that
morning arrived at Whitehall with great news from
Ireland.
* Mary to the States General, able Passages in the Life of Arthur,
July 12.; Burchett's Memoirs; An Earl of Torrington, I69I.
important Account of some remark-
WILLIAM AND MABT. 615
CHAPTER XVI.
"William had been, during the whole spring, impatiently chap.
expected in XJlster. The Protestant settlements along ^^^'
the coast of that province had, in the course of the 1^90.
month of May, been repeatedly agitated by false reports wiuiam
of his arrival. It was not, however, till the afternoon crrrick-
of the fourteenth of Jime that he landed at Carrick- J^^^^^
fergus. The inhabitants of the town crowded the main Belfast
street and greeted him with loud acclamations : but
they caught only a glimpse of him. As soon as he was
on dry ground he mounted and set off for Belfast. On
the road he was met by Schomberg. The meeting took
place close to a white house, the only human dwelling
then visible, in the space of many miles, on the dreary
strand of the estuary of the Laggan. A village and a
cotton mill now rise where the white house then stood
alone ; and all the shore is adorned by a gay succes-
sion of coimtry houses, shrubberies and flower beds.
Belfast has become one of the greatest and most flourish-
ing seats of industry in the British isles. A busy popu-
lation of eighty thousand souls is collected there. The
duties annually paid at the Custom House exceed the
duties annually paid at the Custom House of London in
the most prosperous years of the reign of Charles the
Second. Other Irish towns may present more pictu-
resque forms to the eye. But Belfast is the only large
Irish town in which the traveller is not disgusted by the
loathsome aspect and odour of long lines of human dens
far inferior in comfort and cleanliness to the dwellings
which, in happier countries, are provided for cattle.
No other large Irish town is so well cleaned, so well
paved, so brilliantly lighted. The place of domes and
RR 4
616 HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, spires is supplied by edifices, less pleasing to the taste,
^^^ but not less indicative of prosperity, huge factories, tow-
1690. ering many stories above the chimneys of the houses,
and resounding with the roar of machineiy . The Bel-
fast which William entered was a small English settle-
ment of about three hundred houses, commanded by a
stately castle which has long disappeared^ the seat of
the noble family of Chichester, In this mansion, which
is said to have borne some resemblance to the palace of
Whitehall, and which was celebrated for its terraeea
and orchards stretching down to the river side, prepara-
tions had been made for the King's reception. He was
welcomed at the Northern Gate by the magistrates and
burgesses in their robes of office. The multitude pressed
on his carriage with shouts of " God save the Protestant
King." For the town was one of the strongholds of the
Reformed Faith ; and, when, two generations later, the
inhabitants were, for the first time, numbered, it waa
found that the Roman Catholics were not more than one
in fifteen.*
The night came: but the Protestant counties were
awake and up. A royal salute had been fired from the
castle of Belfast. It had been echoed and reechoed by
guns which Schomberg had placed at wide intervals for
the purpose of conveying signals from post to post.
Wherever the peal was heard, it was known that King
William was come. Before midnight all the heights of
Antrim and Down were blazing with bonfires. The
light was seen across the bays of Carlingford and Dun-
dalk, and gave notice to the outposts of the enemy tliat
the decisive hour was at hand. Within forty eight
hours after William had landed, James set out from
* London Gazette, June I9. ing to the town of Belfast^ 1817.
1690; History of the Wars in This work contains carious extncts
Ireland by an Officer in the Royal from MSS. of the seventeenth cen-
Army, I69O; Villare Hibernicum, tury. In the British Museum it a
I69O; Story's Impartial History, map of Belfast made in 1685, so
1691 ; Historical Collections relat- exact that the houses may be counted.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 617
Dublin for the Irish camp, which was pitched near the chap.
northern frontier of Leinster. * ^^^'
In Dublin the agitation was fearful. None could i^PO.
doubt that the decisive crisis was approaching ; and the ^^^
agony of suspense stimulated to the highest point the
passions of both the hostile castes. The majority could
easily detect, in the looks and tones of the oppressed
minority, signs which indicated the hope of a speedy
deliverance and of a terrible revenge. Simon Luttrell,
to whom the care of the capital was entrusted, hastened
to take such precautions as fear and hatred dictated.
A proclamation appeared, enjoining all Protestants to
remain in their houses from nightfall to dawn, and pro-
hibiting them, on pain of death, from assembling in any
place or for any purpose to the number of more than
five. No indulgence was granted even to those divines
of the Established Church who had never ceased to teach
the doctrine of nonresistance. Doctor William King,
who had, after long holding out, lately begun to waver
in his political creed, was committed to custody. There
was no gaol large enough to hold one half of those
whom the governor suspected of evil designs. The Col-
lege and several parish churches were used as prisons ;
and into those buildings men accused of no crime but
their religion were crowded in such numbers that they
could hardly breathe, f
The two rival princes meanwhile were busied in wuiiam'a
collecting their forces. Loughbrickland was the place ^^^.
appointed by William for the rendezvous of the scat- ments.
tered divisions of his army. While his troops were
* Lauzun to LouYois^ June ^ taken when he says that William
The messenger who brought the had been six days in Ireland before
news to Lauzun had heard the guns his arrival was known to James,
and seen the bonfires. History of f A True and Perfect Journal of
the Wars in Ireland by an Officer the Affairs of Ireland by a Person of
of the Royal Army^ I69O; Life Quality, I69O; King, iii. 18. Lut-
of Jaroes^ ii. 39^., Orig. Mem. j Bur- trell's proclamation will be found in
nety iL 47* Burnet is strangely mis- King's Appendix.
618 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, assembling, he exerted himself indefatigably to im-
^^^ prove their discipline and to provide for their sab-
1690. sistence. He had brought from England two hnndred
thousand pounds in money and a great quantity of
ammunition and provisions. Pillaging was prohibited
under severe penalties. At the same time supplies were
liberally dispensed ; and all the paymasters of regiments
were directed to send in their accounts without delay,
in order that there might be no arrears.* Thomas Co-
ningsby, Member of Parliament for Leominster, a busy
and unscrupulous Whig, accompanied the King, and
acted as Paymaster General. It deserves to be men-
tioned that William, at this time, authorised the Col-
lector of Customs at Belfast to pay every year twelve
hundred pounds into the hands of some of the principal
dissenting ministers of Down and Antrim, who were to
be trustees for their brethren. The King declared that
he bestowed this sum on the nonconformist divines,
partly as a reward for their eminent loyalty to him,
and partly as a compensation for their recent losses.
Such was the origin of that donation which is still an-
nually bestowed by the government on the Presbyterian
clergy of Ulster.f
William was all himself again. His spirits, de-
pressed by eighteen months passed in dull state, amidst
factions and intrigues which he but half understood,
rose high as soon as he was surrounded by tents and
standards.^ It was strange to see how rapidly this
man, so unpopular at Westminster, obtained a complete
mastery over the hearts of his brethren in arms. They
observed with delight that, infirm as he was, he took
his share of every hardship which they underwent;
that he thought more of their comfort than of his own;
* Villare Hibernicum, I69O. J " La gayet^ peinte sur son
t The order addressed to the visage," says Dumont, who saw him
CoUector of Customs wiU be found at Belfast^ <* nous fit tout esperer
in Dr. Reid's History of the Presby- pour les heureux succ^s de la cam-
terian Church in Ireland. pagne."
WILLIAM AND MAHY. 619
that he sharply reprimanded some officers, who were chap.
so anxious to procure luxuries for his table as to for- ^^^'
get the wants of the common soldiers; that he never i^'90.
once, from the day on which he took the field, lodged
in a house, but, even in the neighbourhood of cities and
palaces, slept in his small moveable hut of wood ; that
no solicitations could induce him, on a hot day and in
a high wind, to move out of the choking cloud of dust,
which overhung the line of march, and which severely
tried lungs less delicate than his. Every man under
his command became familiar with his looks and with
his voice; for there was not a regiment which he did
not inspect with minute attention. His pleasant looks
and sayings were long remembered. One brave soldier
has recorded in his journal the kind and courteous
manner in which a basket of the first cherries of the
year was accepted from him by the King, and the
sprightliness with which His Majesty conversed at sup-
per with those who stood round the table.*
On the twenty fourth of June, the tenth day after wnnam
William's landing, he marched southward from Lough- ^uthw^ard.
brickland with all his forces. He was fully determined
to take the first opportunity of fighting. Schomberg
and some other officers recommended caution and de-
lay. But the King answered that he had not come
to Ireland to let the grass grow under his feet. The
event seems to prove that he judged rightly as a
general. That he judged rightly as a statesman can-
not be doubted. He knew that the English nation
was discontented with the way in which the war had
hitherto been conducted; that nothing but rapid and
splendid success could revive the enthusiasm of his
friends and quell the spirit of his enemies ; and that a
defeat could scarcely be more injurious to his fame and
to his interests than a languid and indecisive cam-
paign.
♦ Story*B Impartial Account; MS. Journal of Colonel Bellingham ; The
Royal Diary.
620 HISTORY OF ENGLASID.
CHAP The country through which he advanced had, during
^^^ eighteen months, been fearfully wasted both by soldiers
1690. and by Rapparees. The cattle had been slaughtered:
the plantations had been cut down: the fences and
houses were in ruins. Not a human being was to be
found near the road, except a few naked and meagre
wretches who had no food but the husks of oats, and
who were seen picking those husks, like chickens, from
amidst dust and cinders.* Yet, even under such dis-
advantages, the natural fertility of the country, the rich
green of the earth, the bays and rivers so admirably
fitted for trade, could not but strike the King's ob-
servant eye. Perhaps he thought how different an
aspect that unhappy region would have presented if it
had been blessed with such a government and such a
religion as had made his native Holland the wonder of
the world ; how endless a succession of pleasure houses,
tulip gardens and dairy farms would have lined the
road from Lisburn to Belfast; how many hundreds of
barges would have been constantly passing up and
down the Laggan ; what a forest of masts would have
bristled in the desolate port of Newry ; and what vast
warehouses and stately mansions would have covered
the space occupied by the noisome alleys of Dundalk.
" The country," he was heard to say, " is worth fighting
for."
The Irish The Original intention of James seems to have been
trJate."^* to try the chances of a pitched field on the border
between Leinster and Ulster. But this design was
abandoned, in consequence, apparently, of the repre-
sentations of Lauzun, who, though very little disposed
and very little qualified to conduct a campaign on the
Fabian system, had the admonitions of Louvois still
in his ears.f James, though resolved not to give up
Dublin without a battle, consented to retreat till he
should reach some spot where he might have the van-
* Story's Impartial Account. I69O; Life of James^ ii. 393.,
t Lauzun to Louvois, j^' Orig. Mem.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 621
tage of ground. When therefore William's advanced chap.
guard reached Dundalk, nothing was to be seen of the ^^^'
Irish army, except a great cloud of dust which was 1690.
slowly rolling southwards towards Ardee. The English
halted one night near the ground on which Schomberg's
camp had been pitched in the preceding year; and
many sad recollections were awakened by the sight of
that dreary marsh, the sepulchre of thousands of brave
men.*
Still William continued to push forward, and still
the Irish receded before him, till, on the morning of
Monday the thirtieth of June, his army, marching in
three columns, reached the summit of a rising ground
near the southern frontier of the county of Louth.
Beneath lay a valley, now so rich and so cheerful that
the Englishman who gazes on it may imagine himself
to be in one of the most highly favoured parts of his
own highly favoured country. Fields of wheat, wood-
lands, meadows bright with daisies and clover, slope
gently down to the edge of the Boyne. That bright
and tranquil stream, the boundary of Louth and Meath,
having flowed many miles between verdant banks
crowned by modem palaces, and by the ruined keeps of
old Norman barons of the pale, is here about to mingle
with the sea. Five miles to the west of the place from
which William looked down on the river, now stands, on
a verdant bank, amidst noble woods, Slane Castle, the
mansion of the Marquess of Conyngham. Two miles
to the east, a cloud of smoke from factories and steam
vessels overhangs the busy town and port of Drogheda.
On the Meath side of the Boyne, the ground, still all
com, grass, flowers, and foliage, rises with a gentle swell
to an eminence surmounted by a conspicuous tuft of
ash trees which overshades the ruined church and deso-
late graveyard of Donore.f
♦ Story's Impartial Account ; Du- respecting the field of battle and the
mont MS. surrounding country will be found
f Much interestiDg information in Mr. Wilde's pleasing volume en-
622 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. In the seventeenth century the landscape presented
^^^ a very difierent aspect. The traces of art and industiy
1690. were few. Scarcely a vessel was on the river except
those rude coracles of wickerwork covered with the
skins of horses, in which the Celtic peasantry fished
for trout and salmon. Drogheda, now peopled by
twenty thousand industrious inhabitants, was a small
knot of narrow, crooked and filthy lanes, encircled by a
ditch and a mound. The houses were built of wood with
high gables and projecting upper stories. Without the
walls of the town, scarcely a dwelling was to be seen
except at a place called Oldbridge. At Oldbridge the
river was fordable ; and on the south of the ford were a
few mud cabins, and a single house built of more solid
materials.
The Irish When William caught sight of the valley of the
™and at Boyuc, he could not suppress an exclamation and a
the Boyne. gesture of delight. He had been apprehensive that the
enemy would avoid a decisive action, and would pro-
tract the war till the autumnal rains should return
with pestilence in their train. He was now at ease. It
was plain that the contest would be sharp and short.
The pavilion of James was pitched on the eminence of
Donore. The flags of the House of Stuart and of the
House of Bourbon waved together in defiance on the
walls of Drogheda. All the southern bank of the river
was lined by the camp and batteries of the hostile army.
Thousands of aimed men were moving about among
the tents ; and every one, horse soldier or foot soldier,
French or Irish, had a white badge in his hat. That
colour had been chosen in compliment to the House of
Bourbon. " I am glad to see you, gentlemen," said
the King, as his keen eye surveyed the Irish lines. " If
you escape me now, the fault will be mine."*
titled " The Beauties of the Boyne mont. He derived his information
and Blackwater." from Lord Selkirk, who was in
• Memorandum in the hand- AVilliara's army,
writing of Alexander, Earl of March-
WILLIAM AND MARY. 623
Each of the contending princes had some advantages chap.
over his rival. James, standing on the defensive, be- L
hind entrenchments, with a river before him, had the ^^90*
stronger position*: but his troops were inferior both ^j^^^
in number and in quality to those which were opposed
to him. He probably had thirty thousand men. About
a third part of this force consisted of excellent French
infantry and excellent Irish cavalry. But the rest of
his army was the scoff of all Europe. The Irish dra-
goons were bad ; the Irish infantry worse. It was said
that their ordinary way of fighting was to discharge
their pieces once, and then to run away bawling
"Quarter" and "Murder." Their inefficiency was, in
that age, commonly imputed, both by their enemies
and by their allies, to natural poltroonery. How little
ground there was for such an imputation has since
been signally proved by many heroic achievements in
every part of the globe. It ought, indeed, even in
the seventeenth century, to have occurred to reason-
able men, that a race which furnished some of the
best horse soldiers in the world would certainly, with
judicious training, furnish good foot soldiers. But the
Irish foot soldiers had not merely not been well trained :
they had been elaborately ill trained. The greatest of
our generals repeatedly and emphatically declared that
even the admirable army which fought its way, under
his command, from Torres Vedras to Toulouse, would,
if he had suffered it to contract habits of pillage, have
• James says (Life, ii. 39s. Orig. Nov. l6. I69O, before Lords Jus-
Mem.) that the country afforded no tices. This is^ no doubt, an absurd
better position. King, in a thanks- exaggeration. But M. de la Ho-
giving sermon which he preached at guette, one of the principal French
Dublin after the close of the cam- officers who was present at the
paign, told his hearers that '' the battle of the Boyne, informed Lou-
advantage of the post of the Irish vois that the Irish army occupied a
was^ by all intelligent men, reckoned good defensive position. Letter of
above three to one." See King's La Hoguette from Lunerick, ^JjJ-/?
Thanksgiving Sermon, preached on i^qq.
ofWiUiam.
624 HISTORY OF KETOLAND.
CHAP, become, in a few weeks, unfit for all military purpofles.
J^ What then was likely to be the character of troops who,
1690. from the day on which they enlisted, were not merely
permitted, but invited, to supply the deficiencies of pay
by marauding? They were, as might have been ex-
pected, a mere mob, furious indeed and clamorous in
their zeal for the cause which they had espoused, but
incapable of opposing a stedfast resistance to a well o^
dered force. In truth, all that the discipline, if it is to
be so called, of James's army had done for the Celtic
kerne had been to debase and enervate him. After
eighteen months of nominal soldiership, he was posi-
tively farther from being a soldier than on the day oa
which he quitted his hovel for the camp.
The army William had under his conunand near thirty six
thousand men, bom in many lands, and speaking msny
tongues. Scarcely one Protestant Church, scarcdy
one Protestant nation, was unrepresented in the army
which a strange series of events had brought to fight
for the Protestant religion in the remotest island of the
west. About half the troops were natives of England.
Ormond was there with the Life Guards, and Oxford
with the Blues. Sir John Lanier, an officer who had
acquired military experience on the Continent, and
whose prudence was held in high esteem, was at the
head of the Queen's regiment of horse, now the First
Dragoon Guards. There were Beaumont's foot, who
had, in defiance of the mandate of James, refused to
admit Irish papists among them, and Hastings's foot,
who had, on the disastrous day of KiUiecrankie, main-
tained the military reputation of the Saxon race. There
were the two Tangier battalions, hitherto known only
by deeds of violence and rapine, but destined to begin
on the following morning a long career of glory. The
Scotch Guards marched under the command of their
countryman James Douglas. Two fine British regiments,
which had been in the service of the States General,
WILLIAM AND MABY. 626
and had often looked death in the face under William's chap.
XVL
leading, followed him in this campaign, not only as their
general, but as their native King. They now rank as 1690.
the fifth and sixth of the line. The former was led by
an officer who had no skill in the higher parts of mili-
tary science, but whom the whole army allowed to be
the bravest of all the brave, John Cutts. Conspicuous
among the Dutch troops were Portland's and Ginkell's
Horse, and Solmes's Blue regiment, consisting of two
thousand of the finest infantry in Europe. Germany
had sent to the field some warriors, sprung from her
noblest houses. Prince George of Hesse Darmstadt,
a gallant youth who was serving his apprenticeship in
the military art, rode near the King. A strong brigade
of Danish mercenaries was commanded by Duke Charles
Frederic of Wirtemberg, a near kinsman of the head of
his illustrious family. It was reported that of all the
soldiers of William these were most dreaded by the
Irish. For centuries of Saxon domination had not
effaced the recollection of the violence and cruelty of
the Scandinavian sea kings; and an ancient prophecy
that the Danes would one day destroy the children of
the soil was still repeated with superstitious horror.*
Among the foreign auxiliaries were a Brandenburg
regiment and a Finland regiment. But in that great
array, so variously composed, were two bodies of men
animated by a spirit peculiarly fierce and implacable,
the Huguenots of France thirsting for the blood of
the French, and the Englishry of Ireland impatient to
trample down the Irish. The ranks of the refugees had
been eflTectually purged of spies and traitors, and were
made up of men such as had contended in the pre-
ceding century against the power of the House of Va-
lois and the genius of the House of Lorraine. All the
boldest spirits of the unconquerable colony had repaired
to William's camp. Mitchelbume was there with the
* Narcissus Luttrell*8 Diary, March, I69O.
VOL. III. S S
626 HISTOBT OF SNGLAND.
CHAP. Stubborn defenders of Londonderry, and Wolaeley with
^^^ the warriors who had raised the unanimous shout of
1690. " Advance " on the day of Newton Butler. Sir Albert
Conyngham, the ancestor of the noble family whose seat
now overlooks the Boyne, had brought fixrai the nei^-
bourhood of Lough £me a gallant regiment of dragoons
which still glories in the name of Enniskillen, and
which has proved on the shores of the Euxine that it
has not degenerated since the day of the Boyne.*
Walker, Walker, notwithstanding his advanced age and his
•hcj> of peaceful profession, accompanied the men of Londcm-
Deny, ac- deny, and tried to animate their zeal by exhortation
^Tm^ and by example. He was now a great prelate. Ezekid
Hopkins had taken refage from Popish persecutors and
Presbyterian rebeb in the city of London, had brought
himself to swear allegiance to the government, had
obtained a cure, and had died in the performance of
the humble duties of a parish priest.f William, (m
his march through Louth, learned that the rich see
of Deny was at his disposal. He instantly made
choice of Walker to be the new Bishop. The brave old
man, during the few hours of life which remained to
him, was overwhelmed with salutations and congratu-
lations. Unhappily he had, during the siege in which
he had so highly distinguished himself, contracted a
passion for war; and he easily persuaded himself that,
in indulging this passion, he was discharging a duty
to his country and his religion. He ought to have
remembered that the peculiar circumstances which had
justified him in becoming a combatant had ceased to
exist, and that, in a disciplined army led by generals of
long experience and great fame, a fighting divine was
likely to give less help than scandal. The Bishop elect
* Bee the Historical records of Finglass^ a week after the battle,
the Regiments of the British army, f See his Funeral Sermon preached
and Story's list of the army of at the church of Saint Mary Alder-
William as it passed in review at mary on the S4th of June 16^.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 627
was determined to be wherever danger was ; and the chap.
way in which he exposed himself excited the extreme ^^^
disgust of his royal patron, who hated a meddler 1690.
almost as much as a coward. A soldier who ran away
from a battle and a gownsman who pushed himself
into a battle were the two objects which most strongly
excited William's spleen.
It was stiU early in the day. The King rode slowly waiiamre-
along the northern bank of the river, and closely exa- th^ irllh*
nodned the position of the Irish, from whom he was po«ition.
sometimes separated by an interval of little more than
two hundred feet. He was accompanied by Schomberg,
Ormond, Sidney, Solmes, Prince George of Hesse, Co-
ningsby, and others. " Their army is but small;" said
one of the Dutch officers. Indeed it did not appear to
consist of more than sixteen thousand men. But it
was well known, from the reports brought by deserters,
that many regiments were concealed from view by the
undulations of the ground. " They may be stronger
than they look," said William; "but, weak or strong,
I will soon know all about them."*
At length he alighted at a spot nearly opposite to
Oldbridge, sate down on the turf to rest himself, and
called for breakfast. The sumpter horses were un-
loaded: the canteens were opened; and a tablecloth
was spread on the grass. The place is marked by an
obelisk, built while many veterans who could well re-
member the events of that day were still living.
While William was at his repast, a group of horsemen Wiuiamii
appeared close to the water on the opposite shore. ^<^^^®^
Among them his attendants could discern some who
had once been conspicuous at reviews in Hyde Park and
at balls in the gallery of Whitehall, the youthful Ber-
wick, the small, fairhaired Lauzun, Tyrconnel, once
admired by maids of honour as the model of manly
♦ Suvy's Impirtial History ; Hia- Officer of the Royal Army ; Hop to
tory of the Wars in Ireland hy an the States General, ^^ I69O.
88 2
628 niSTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, vigour and beauty, but now bent down by years and
^^^' crippled by gout, and, overtopping all, the stately head
1690. of Sarsfield.
The chiefs of the Irish army soon discovered that the
person who, surrounded by a splendid circle, was break-
fasting on the opposite bank, was the Prince of Orange,
They sent for artillery. Two field pieces, screened firom
view by a troop of cavalry, were brought down almost
to the brink of the river, and placed behind a hedge.
William, who had just risen from his meal, and was
again in the saddle, was the mark of both guns. The
first shot struck one of the holsters of Prince George
of Hesse, and brought his horse to the ground. "Ah!"
cried the King; "the poor Prince is killed." As the
words passed his lips, he was himself hit by a second
ball, a sixpounder. It merely tore his coat, grazed his
shoulder, and drew two or three ounces of blood. Both
armies saw that the shot had taken efiect ; for the King
sank down for a moment on his horse's neck. A yeUof
exultation rose from the Irish camp. The English and
their allies were in dismay. Solmes flung himself pros-
trate on the earth, and burst into tears. But Wil-
liam's deportment soon reassured his friends. " There
is no harm done," he said : " but the bullet came quite
near enough." Coningsby put his handkerchief to the
wound : a surgeon was sent for : a plaster was applied ;
and the King, as soon as the dressing was finished, rode
round all the posts of his army amidst loud acclama-
tions. Such was the energy of his spirit that, in spite
of his feeble health, in spite of his recent hurt, he was
that day nineteen hours on horseback.*
A cannonade was kept up on both sides till the even-
ing. William observed with especial attention the
effect produced by the Irish shots on the English regi-
* London Gazette. July 7. 1690 ; sus Luttrell's Diary; Lord March-
Story's Impartial History ; History mont's Memorandum ; Burnet, ii.
of the Wars in Ireland by an Of- .00. and '1 hanksgiving Sermon; Ihi-
ficer of the Royal Army ; Narcia- mont MS.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 629
ments which had never been in action, and declared chap.
himself satisfied with the result. " All is right," he ^^^'
said; "they stand fire well." Long after sunset he ^^^'
made a final inspection of his forces by torchlight, and
gave orders that every thing should be ready for forcing
a passage across the river on the morrow. Every sol-
dier was to put a green bough in his hat. The bag-
gage and great coats were to be left under a guard.
The word was Westminster.
The King's resolution to attack the Irish was not
approved by all his lieutenants. Schomberg, in par-
ticular, pronounced the experiment too hazardous, and,
when his opinion was overruled, retired to his tent
in no very good humour. When the order of battle
was delivered to him, he muttered that he had been
more used to give such orders than to receive them.
For this little fit of sullenness, very pardonable in a
general who had won great victories when his master
was stiU a child, the brave veteran made, on the follow-
ing morning, a noble atonement.
The first of July dawned, a day which has never Battle of
since returned without exciting strong emotions of very ^^® ^^ "^•
diflferent kinds in the two populations which divide
Ireland. The sun rose bright and cloudless. Soon
after four both armies were in motion. William or-
dered his right wing, under the command of Meinhart
Schomberg, one of the Duke's sons, to march to the
bridge of Slane, some miles up the river, to cross there,
and to turn the left flank of the Irish army. Meinhart
Schomberg was assisted by Portland and Douglas.
James, anticipating some such design, had already sent
to the bridge a regiment of dragoons, commanded by
Sir Neil O'Neil. O'Neil behaved himself like a brave
gentleman : but he soon received a mortal wound : liis
men fled; and the English right wing passed the river.
This move made Lauzun uneasy. What if the English
right wing should get into the rear of the army of
SB 3
630 HISXOBY OS BMOLAKD.
CHAP. James? About four miles south of the Boyne was t
^^^ place called Duleek, where the road to Dublin was so
1690. narrow, that two cars could not pass each other, and
where on both sides of th^ road lay a morass which
afforded no £rm footing. If Meinhart Schombei^ should
occupy this spot, it would be impossible for the Irisb
to retreat. They must either conquer, or be cut off to
a man. Disturbed by this apprdiension, the French
general marched with his countrymen and with Sars-
field's horse in the direction of Slane Bridge. Thus
the fords near Oldbridge were left to be defended by
the Irish alone.
It was now near ten o'clock. William put himself at
the head of his left wing, which was composed excla-
sively of cavalry, and prepared to pass the river not fiir
above Drogheda. The centre of his army, which con-
sisted almost exclusively of foot, was entrusted to the
command of Schomberg, and was marshalled opposite
to Oldbridge. At Oldbridge the whole Irish infimtiy
had been collected. The Meath bank bristled with
pikes and bayonets. A fortification had been made
by French engineers out of the hedges and buildings;
and a breastwork had been thrown up close to the water
side.* Tyrconnel was there; and under him were
Richard Hamilton and Antrim.
Schomberg gave the word. Solmes's Blues were the
first to move. They marched gallantly, with dnunB
beating, to the brink of the Boyne. Then the drums
stopped ; and the men, ten abreast, descended into the
water. Next plunged Londonderry and Enniskillen.
A little to the left of Londonderry and Enniskillen,
Caillemot crossed, at the head of a long column of French
refugees. A little to the left of Caillemot and his
refugees, the main body of the English infantry strug-
gled through the river, up to their armpits in water.
♦ La Hoguette to Louvois, ^^ l690.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 681
Still further down the stream the Danes found another chap.
ford. In a few minutes the Boyne, for a quarter of a ^^^
mile, was alive with muskets and green boughs. 1690.
It was not till the assailants had reached the middle of
the channel that they became aware of the whole difficulty
and danger of the service in which they were engaged.
They had as yet seen little more than half the hostile
army. Now whole regiments of foot and horse seemed
to start out of the earth. A wild shout of defiance rose
from the whole shore: during one moment the event
seemed doubtful: but the Protestants pressed resolutely
forward ; and in another moment the whole Irish line
gave way. Tyrconnel looked on in helpless despair.
He did not want personal courage : but his military skill
was so small that he hardly ever reviewed his regiment
in the Phoenix Park without committing some blunder;
and to rally the ranks which were breaking aU round
him was no task for a general who had survived the
energy of his body and of his mind, and yet had still
the rudiments of his profession to learn. Several of
his best officers fell while vainly endeavouring to prevail
on their soldiers to look the Dutch Blues in the face.
Richard Hamilton ordered a body of foot to fall on the
French refugees, who were still deep in water. He led
the way, and, accompanied by several courageous gen-
tlemen, advanced, sword in hand, into the river. But
neither his commands nor his example could infuse cou-
rage into that mob of cowstealers. He was left almost
alone, and retired from the bank in despair. Further
down the river Antrim's division ran like sheep at the
approach of the English column. Whole regiments
flung away arms, colours and cloaks, and scampered off
to the hills without striking a blow or firing a shot.*
* That I have done no injustice their government and their families,
to the Irish inftntry will appear from La Hoguette, writing hastily' to
the accounts which the French offi- Louvois on the ^th of July, says :
oers who were at the Boyne sent to *' Je vooi diray senlemen^ Mon-
8 s 4
632
HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAR
XVI.
1690.
It required many years and many heroic exploits to
take away the reproach which that ignominious rout
left on the Irish name. Yet, even before the day
closed, it was abundantly proved that the reproach was
unjust. Richard Hamilton put himself at the head of
the cavalry, and, under his command, they made a gal-
lant, though an unsuccessful attempt to retrieve the
day. They maintained a desperate fight in the bed
of the river with Solmes's Blues. They drove the
Danish brigade back into the stream. They fell impe-
tuously on the Huguenot regiments, which, not bebg
provided with pikes, then ordinarily used by foot to
repel horse, began to give groimd. Caillemot, while
encouraging his fellow "exiles, received a mortal wound
in the thigh. Four of his men carried him back across
the ford to his tent. As he passed, he continued to
urge forward the rear ranks which were still up to the
seigneur, que nous n'avons pas est^
battus, mais que les ennemys ont
chassis devant eux les trouppes
Irlandoises comme des moutons^
sans avoir essaye un seul coup de
inousquet."
Writing some weeks later more
fully from Limerick, he says,
" Jen meurs de honte." He ad-
mits that it would have been no easy
matter to win the battle, at best.
*" Mais il est vray aussi," he adds,
''que les Irlandois ne firent pas la
moindre resistance, et plierent sans
tirer un seul coup." Zurlauben,
Colonel of one of the finest regiments
in the French service, wrote to the
same effect, but did justice to the
courage of the Irish horse, whom
La Hoguette does not mention.
There is at the French War
Office a letter hastily scrawled by
Boisseleau, Lauzun's second in com-
mand, to his wife after the battle.
He wrote thus : ** Je me porte bien,
nia chere feme* Ne t'inquieste pas
de moy. Nos Irlandois n'ont rin
fait qui vaille. lis ont tous lache
le pie."
Desgrigny, writing on tlie |gdiof
July, assigns several reasons for the
defeat. " La premiere et la plus furte
est la fuite des Irlandois qui sont rn
verite des gens sur lesquels il ne faut
pas compter du tout." In the same
letter he says : " II n'est pas naturel
de croire qu'une arro^ de vingt
cinq mille hommes qui paroissoit de
la meilleure volonte du monde, et
qui k la veue des ennemis faisoit dei
cris de joye, dut etre entierement
defaite sans avoir tird I'epee et un
seul coup de mousquet. II y a en
tel regiment tout en tier qui a laisse
ses habits, ses arraes, et ses dra-
peaux sur le champ de bataille, et
a gagn6 les montagnes avec ses of-
ficiers."
I looked in vain for the despatdi
in which Lauzun must have gi\en
Lou vols a detailed account of the
battle.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 633
breast in the water. " On ; on ; my lads: to glory; to chap.
glory." Schomberg, who had remained on the northern ^^^
bank, and who had thence watched the progress of his 1690.
troops with the eye of a general, now thought that the
emergency required from him the personal exertion of
a soldier. Those who stood about him besought him in
vain to put on his cuirass. Without defensive armour he
rode through the river, and rallied the refugees whom
the fall of Caillemot had dismayed. " Come on," he
cried in French, pointing to the Popish squadrons ;
" come on, gentlemen : there are your persecutors."
Those were his last words. As he spoke, a band of
Irish horsemen rushed upon him and encircled him for
a moment. When they retired, he was on the ground.
His friends raised him; but he was already a corpse.
Two sabre wounds were on his head ; and a bullet from
a carbine was lodged in his neck. Almost at the same
moment Walker, while exhorting the colonists of Ulster
to play the men, was shot dead. During near half an
hour the battle continued to rage along the southern
shore of the river. All was smoke, dust and din. Old
soldiers were heard to say that they had seldom seen
sharper work in the Low Countries. But, just at this
conjuncture, William came up with the left wing. He
had found much diflSculty in crossing. The tide was
running fast. His charger had been forced to swim,
and had been almost lost in the mud. As soon as the
King was on firm ground he took his sword in his left
hand, — ^for his right arm was stiff with his wound and
his bandage, — and led his men to the place where the
fight was the hottest. His arrival decided the fate of the
day. Yet the Irish horse retired fighting obstinately. It
was long remembered among the Protestants of Ulster
that, in the midst of the tumult, William rode to the
head of the Enniskilleners. " What will you do for
me?" he cried. He was not immediately recognised ; and
one trooper, taking him for an enemy, was about to
6S4 mSTOBY 07 SNGLAND.
CHAP. fire. William gently put aside the carbine. " What,"
^^^' said he, " do you not know your friends? " " It is Hb
1690. Majesty ;" said the Colonel. The ranks of sturdy Protes-
tant yeomen set up a shout of joy. *' Gentlemen," said
William, " you shall be my guards to day* I have heard
much of you. Let me see something of you." One of
the most remarkable peculiarities of this man, ordinarily
so saturnine and reserved, was that danger acted on
him like wine, opened his heart, loosened his tongue,
and took away all appearance of constraint from hU
manner. On this memorable day he was seen wherever
the peril was greatest. One ball struck the cap of his
pistol : another carried off the heel of his jackboot : bat
his lieutenants in vain implored him to retire to some
station from which he could give his orders withoat
exposing a life so valuable to Europe. His troops,
animated by his example, gained ground fast. The
Irish cavaliy made their last stand at a house called
Plottin Castle, about a mile and and a half south of
Oldbridge. There the Enniskilleners were repelled
with the loss of fifty men, and were hotly pursued, till
WiUiam rallied them and turned the chase back. In
this encounter Richard Hamilton, who had done all that
could be done by valour to retrieve a reputation for-
feited by perfidy*, was severely wounded, taken prisoner,
and instantly brought, through the smoke and over the
carnage, before the prince whom he had foully wronged.
On no occasion did the character of WiUiam show itself
in a more striking manner. " Is this business over?"
he said; " or will your horse make more fight? " " On
my honour, Sir," answered Hamilton, " I believe that
they will." " Your honour ! " muttered William ; " your
honour ! " That half suppressed exclamation was the
only revenge which he condescended to take for an
injury for which many sovereigns, far more affable and
* Lauzun wrote to Seignelay^ a 4t^ fait prisonnier, faisant fort bien
July ^. 1690, " Richard Arailton son devoir."
WILLIAM AND KABY. 635
gracious in their ordinary deportment, would have ex- chap.
acted a terrible retribution. Then, restraining himselfi ^^^'
he ordered his own surgeon to look to the hurts of the i6so.
captive.*
And now the battle was over. Hamilton was mis-
taken in thinking that his horse would continue to
fight. Whole troops had been cut to pieces. One fine
regiment had only thirty unwounded men left. It was
enough that these gallant soldiers had disputed the field
till they were left without support, or hope, or guidance,
till their bravest leader was a captive, and till their
King had fled.
Whether James had owed his early reputation for Flight of
valour to accident and flattery, or whether, as he ad- ^^^
vanced in life, his character underwent a change,
may be doubted. But it is certain that, in his youth,
he was generally believed to possess, not merely that
average measure of fortitude which qualifies a soldier
to go through a campaign without disgrace, but that
high and serene intrepidity which is the virtue of great
commanders.f It is equally certain that, in his later
* My chief materiala for the seemi to have heen a hedge school-
history of this hattle are Story's Im- master turned Captain. This Diary
partial Account and Continuation; was kindly lent to me hy Mr.
the History of the War in Irehind Walker, to whom it belongs. The
by an Officer of the Royal Army ; the writer relates the misfortunes of his
despatches in the French War Office; country in a style of which a short
The Life of James, Grig. Mem.; specimen may suffice: **l July,
Burnet, IL 50. 60. ; Narcissus Lut- I69O. O diem ilium infandum, cum
trell's Diary ; the London Gazette inimici potiti sunt pass apud Old-
of July 10. 1690 ; the Despatches bridge et nos circumdederunt et fre-
of Hop and Baden ; a narrative pro- gerunt prope Plottin. Hinc omnes
bably drawn up by Portland, which fugimus Dublin versus. Ego mecum
William sent to the States General ; tuli Cap Moore et Georgium Ogle,
Fdrtland's private letter to Melville ; et venimus hac nocte Dub."
Captain Richardson's Narrative and f 8^Pcpys'Bl^iAfy>«^u"6 4* l664.
map of the battle ; the Dumont *' He tells me above all of the Duke
MS., and the Bellingham MS. I of York, that he is more himself,
have also teen an account of the and more of judgment is at hand in
battle in a Diary kept in bad Latin him, in the middle of a desperate
and in an almost undecipherable service than at other times.** Cla-
hand by one of the beaten army who rendon repeatedly says the lame.
636 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, years, he repeatedly, at conjunctures such as have often
^ inspired timorous and delicate women with heroic cou-
1690. rage, showed a pusillanimous anxiety about his personal
safety. Of the most powerful motives which can in-
duce human beings to encounter peril none was want-
ing to him on the day of the Boyne. The eyes of his
contemporaries and of posterity, of friends devoted to
his cause and of enemies eager to witness his humilia-
tion, were fixed upon him. He had, in his own opinion,
sacred rights to maintain and cruel wrongs to revenge.
He was a King come to fight for three kingdoms. He
was a father come to fight for the birthright of his
child. He was a zealous Roman Catholic, come to
fight in the holiest of crusades. If all this was not
enough, he saw, from the secure position which he oc-
cupied on the height of Donore, a sight which, it might
have been thought, would have roused the most torpid
of mankind to emulation. He saw his rival, w«ik,
sickly, wounded, swimming the river, struggling through
the mud, leading the charge, stopping the flight, grasp-
ing the sword mth the left hand, managing the bridle
with a bandaged arm. But none of these things moved
that sluggish and ignoble nature. He watched, from a
safe distance, the beginning of the battle on which his
fate and the fate of his race depended. When it be-
came clear that the day was going against Ireland, he
was seized with an apprehension that his flight might
be intercepted, and galloped towards Dublin. He was
escorted by a bodyguard under the command of Sars-
field, who had, on that day, had no opportunity of dis-
playing the skill and courage Avhich his enemies allowed
that he possessed.* The French auxiliaries, who had
Swift wrote on the margin of his • Pere Orleans mentions llut
copy of Clarendon, in one place, Sarsfield accompanied James. The
" How old was he (James) when he battle of the Boyne had scarcely
turned Papist and a coward ?*' — in been fought when it was made
another, *' He proved a cowardly the subject of a draraa^ the Royal
Popish king." Flight, or the Conquest of Ireland,
WILLIAM AND MARY. 637
been employed the whole morning in keeping William's chap.
right wing in check, covered the flight of the beaten ^^''
army. They were indeed in some danger of being broken 1690.
and swept away by the torrent of runaways, all press-
ing to get first to the pass of Duleek, and were forced
to fire repeatedly on these despicable allies.* The
retreat was, however, effected with less loss than might
have been expected. For even the admirers of William
owned that he did not show in the pursuit the energy
which even his detractors acknowledged that he had
shown in the battle. Perhaps his physical infirmities,
his hurt, and the fatigue which he had undergone, had
made him incapable of bodily or mental exertion. Of
the last forty hours he had passed thirty five on horse-
back. Schomberg, who might have supplied his place,
was no more. It was said in the camp that the King
could not do every thing, and that what was not done
by him was not done at all.
The slaughter had been less than on any battle field Loss of ihc
of equal importance and celebrity. Of the Irish only ^***""*^
about fifteen hundred had fallen ; but they were almost
all cavalry, the flower of the army, brave and well dis-
ciplined men, whose place could not easily be supplied.
William gave strict orders that there should be no un-
necessary bloodshed, and enforced those orders by an
act of laudable severity. One of his soldiers, after the
fight was over, butchered three defenceless Irishmen
who asked for quarter. The King ordered the murderer
to be hanged on the spot.f
• Farce, 169O. Nothing more detached! I would have wrested
execrable was ever written. But victory out of heretic Fortune'a
it deserves to be remarked that, hands.*^
in this wretched piece, though the * Both La Hoguette and Zurlau-
Irish generally are represented as pol- ben informed their government that
troons, an exception is made in favour it had been necessary to fire on
of Sarsfield. " This fellow/' says the Irish fugitives, who would other-
James, aside, "will make me valiant, wise have thrown the French ranks
I think, in spite of my teeth." into confusion.
"Curse of my stars !** says Sarsfield, f Baden to Van Citters, July -jV
after the battle. " That I must be I69O.
638 HISTOBT 07 VS(SLAJSiD.
CHAP. The loss of the conquerors did not exceed five him-
^^^' dred men; but among them was the first captain in
1690. Europe. To his corpse every honour was i>aid« The
only cemetery in which so illustrious a warrior, slain
in arms for the liberties and religion of ^England, ooold
properly be laid was that venerable Abbey, hallowed by
the dust of many generations of princes, heroes aiid
poets. It was announced that the brave veteran should
have a public funeral at Westminster. In the mean
time his corpse was embalmed with such skill as could
be found in the camp, and was deposited in a leaden
coflSn.*
Walker was treated less respectfully. William tfaooglit
him a busybody who had been properly punished for
running into danger without any call of duty, and
expressed that feeling, with characteristic blontness, on
the field of battle. " Sir," said an attendant, " the
Bishop of Derry has been killed by a shot at the fi)Td."
" What took him there?" growled the King.
The victorious army advanced that day to Duleek,
and passed the warm summer night there under the
open sky. The tents and the baggage waggons were
still on the north of the river. WiUiam's coach had
been brought over; and he slept in it surrounded by his
Fall of soldiers. On the following day, Drogheda surrendered
^^ without a blow, and the garrison, thirteen hundred
strong, marched out unarmed.*
State or Meanwhile Dublin had been in violent commotion.
On the thirtieth of June it was known that the armies
were face to face with the Bojme between them, and
that a battle was almost inevitable. The news that
William had been wounded came that evening. The
first report was that the wound was mortal. It was
believed, and confidently repeated, that the usurper was
no more ; and couriers started bearing the glad tidings
* New and Perfect Journal, 1690 ; f ^^'*y > London Gazette, JuJ;
Narcissus LuttreU's Diary. 10. I69O.
Dublin.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 639
of his death to the French ships which lay in the ports chap.
of Munster. From daybreak on the first of July the ^^^
streets of Dublin were filled with persons eagerly asking 1690.
and telling news. A thousand wild rumours wandered
to and fro among the crowd. A fleet of men of war
under the white flag had been seen from the hill of
Howth. An army commanded by a Marshal of France
had landed in Kent. There had been hard fighting
at the Boyne: but the Irish had won the day: the
English right wing had been routed : the Prince of
Orange was a prisoner. While the Roman Catholics
heard and repeated these stories in all the places of
public resort, the few Protestants who were still out of
prison, afraid of being torn to pieces, shut themselves
up in their inner chambers. But, towards five in the
afternoon, a few runaways on tired horses came strag-
gling in with evil tidings. By six it was known that
all was lost. Soon after sunset, James, escorted by two
hundred cavalry, rode into the Castle. At the threshold
he was met by the wife of Tyrconnel, once the gay and
beautifiil Fanny Jennings, the loveliest coquette in the
brilliant Whitehall of the Restoration. To her the van-
quished King had to announce the ruin of her fortunes
and of his own. And now the tide of fugitives came
in fast. Till midnight all the northern avenues of the
capital were choked by trains of cars and by bands of
dragoons, spent with running and riding, and begrimed
with dust. Some had lost their fire arms, and some
their swords. Some were disfigured by recent wounds.
At two in the morning Dublin was still : but, before the
early dawn of midsummer, the sleepers were roused by
the peal of trumpets; and the horse, who had, on the
preceding day, so well supported the honour of their
country, came pouring through the streets, with ranks
fearfully thinned, yet preserving, even in that extremity,
some show of military order. Two hours later Lauzun's
drums were heard; and the French regiments, in un-
640 niSTOBY OE EKGLAXID.
CHAP, broken array, inarched into the city.* Many thought
^^^ that, with such a force, a stand might still be made.
1690. But, before six o'clock, the Lord Mayor and some of the
principal Roman Catholic citizens were summoned in
haste to the Castle. James took leave of them with t
speech which did him little honour. He had often, he
said, been warned that Irishmen, however well they
might look, would never acquit themselves well on a
field of battle ; and he had now found that the warning
was but too true. He had been so unfortunate as to
see himself in less than two years abandoned by two
armies. His English troops had not wanted courage;
but they had wanted loyalty. His Irish troops were,
no doubt, attached to his cause, which was their
own. But as soon as they were brought front to front
with an enemy, they ran away. The loss indeed had
been little. More shame for those who had fled with
so little loss. "I will never command an Irish army
again. I must shift for myself; and so must you."
After thus reviling his soldiers for being the rabUe
which his own mismanagement had made them, and for
following the example of cowardice which he had him-
self set them, he uttered a few words more worthy of a
King. He knew, he said, that some of his adherents
had declared that they would bum Dublin down rather
than suffer it to fall into the hands of the English.
Such an act would disgrace him in the eyes of all man-
kind : for nobody would believe that his friends would
venture so far without his sanction. Such an act
would also draw on those who committed it severi-
ties which otherwise they had no cause to apprehend:
for inhumanity to vanquished enemies was not among
the faults of the Prince of Orange. For these rontons
James charged his hearers on their allegiance neither to
* True and Perfect Journal ; Villare Hibernicum ; Story's Impartiil
History.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 641
sack nor to destroy the city.* . He then took his depar- chap.
ture, crossed the Wicklow hills with all speed, and never ^^^
stopped till he was fifty miles from Dublin. Scarcely 1690.
had he alighted to take some refreshment when he was ^?™^
scared by an absurd report that the pursuers were close France,
upon him. He started again, rode hard all night, and
gave orders that the bridges should be pulled down
behind him. At sunrise on the third of July he reached
the harbour of Waterford. Thence he went by sea to
Kinsale, where he embarked on board of a French fri-
gate, and sailed for Brest.f
After his departure the conftision in Dublin increased Dublin
hourly. During the whole of the day which followed by^Se
the battle, flying foot soldiers, weary and soiled with ^^^'^J'^rigi^
travel, were constantly coming in. Roman Catholic citi- troops.
zens, with their wives, their families and their house-
hold stufl^, were constantly going out. In some parts
of the capital there was still an appearance of mar-
tial order and preparedness. Guards were posted at
the gates : the Castle was occupied by a strong body of
troops; and it was generally supposed that the enemy
would not be admitted without a struggle. Indeed
some swaggerers, who had, a few hours before, run from
the breastwork at Oldbridge without drawing a trigger,
now swore that they would lay the town in ashes rather
than leave it to the Prince of Orange. But towards
the evening Tyrconnel and Lauzun collected all their
forces, and marched out of the city by the road leading
to that vast sheepwalk which extends over the table
land of Kildare. Instantly the face of things in Dub-
lin was changed. The Protestants every where came
forth from their hiding places. Some of them entered
the houses of their persecutors and demanded arms.
* Story; True and Perfect Journal; f Life of James, ii. 404., Orig.
London Gaiette, July 10. 1 690; Mem.; Monthly Mercury for Au-
Burnet, ii. 51.; Lealie'a Answer to gust, I69O.
King.
VOL. in. T T
642 HISTORY 07 ENGLAND.
CHAP. The doors of the prisons were opened. The Bishops
^^^' of Meath and Lunerick, Doctor King, and others, who
1690. had long held the doctrine of passive obedience, but
who had at length been converted by oppression into
moderate Whigs, formed themselves into a provisicnud
government, and sent a messenger to William's camp,
with the news that Dublin was prepared to welcome
him. At eight that evening a troop of English dragoons
arrived. They were met by the whole Protestant
population on College Green, where the statue of the
deliverer now stands. Himdreds embraced the soldiers,
hung fondly about the necks of the horses, and ran wildly
about, shaking hands with each other. On the morrow
a large body of cavalry arrived; and soon from every
side came news of the effects which the victory of tk
Boyne had produced. James had quitted the island
Wexford had declared for King William. Within
twenty five miles of the capital there was not a Papist
in arms. Almost all the baggage and stores of the de-
feated army had been seized by the conquerors. The
Enniskilleners had taken not less than three hundred
cars, and had found among the booty ten thousand
pounds in money, much plate, many valuable trinkets,
and all the rich camp equipage of Tjrconnel and Lau-
zun.*
Entry of William fixed his head quarters at Ferns, about
* True and Perfect Journal, the dead, like brothers and sistm
London Gazette^ July 10. and 14. meeting after a long absence, and
I69OJ Narcissus Luttrell's Diary, going about from house to house to
In the Life of James Bonnell, Ac- give each other joy of God's great
countant General of Ireland, (1703) mercy, enquiring of one another
is a remarkable religious meditation, how they past the late days of dis-
from which I will quote a short pas- tress and terror, what apprehensioiu
sage. *^ How did we see the Pro- they had, what fears or dangers tber
tesUnts on the great day of our were under; those that were pri-
Revolution, Thursday the third of soners, how they got their liberty,
July, a day ever to be remembered how they were treated, and what,
by us with the greatest thankfulness, from time to time, they thought of
congratulate and embrace one another things."
as thpy met, like persons alive from
WILLIAM AND MARY. 643
two miles from Dublin, Thence, on the morning of chap.
Sunday, the sixth of July, he rode in great state to ^^^'
the cathedral, and there, Avith the crown on his head, ^^90.
returned public thanks to God in the choir which is jYto^Dub-
now hung with the banners of the Knights of Saint im.
Patrick. King preached, with all the fervour of a neo-
phyte, on the great deliverance which God had wrought
for the Church. The Protestant magistrates of the
city appeared again, after a long interval, in the pomp
of office. William could not be persuaded to repose
himself at the Castle, but in the evening returned to
his camp, and slept there in his wooden cabin.*
The fame of these great events flew fast, and excited Effect pro-
strong emotions all over Europe. The news of William's Frawe by
wound every where preceded by a few hours the news of the new*
his victory. Paris was roused at dead of night by the i^A
arrival of a courier who brought the joyful intelligence
that the heretic, the parricide, the mortal enemy of the
greatness of France, had been struck dead by a cannon
ball in the sight of the two armies. The commissaries
of police ran about the city, knocked at the doors, and
called the people up to illuminate. In an hour streets,
quays and bridges were in a blaze : drums were beating
and trumpets sounding : the bells of Notre Dame were
ringing: peals of cannon were resounding from the
batteries of the Bastile. Tables were set out in the
streets; and wine was served to all who passed. A
Prince of Orange, made of straw, was trailed through
the mud, and at last committed to the flames. He was
attended by a hideous effigy of the devil, canying a
scroll, on which was written, " I have been waiting for
thee these two years." The shops of several Huguenots
* London Gazette, July 14.1690; be mittaken. It was probably the
Story ; True and Perfect Journal ; crown which James had been in the
Dumont MS. Dumont is the only habit of wearing when he appeared
person who mentions the crown, on the throne at the King's Inns.
As he was present, he could not
T T 2
644 HISTORY OF ENGLAIO).
CHAP, who had been dragooned into caUing themselves Catho-
^^^' lies, but were suspected of being still heretics at heart,
1690. were sacked by the rabble. It was hardly safe to ques-
tion the truth of the report which had been so eagerly
welcomed by the multitude. Soon, however, some cod-
headed people ventured to remark that the fact of the
tyrant's death was not quite so certain as might be
wished. Then arose a vehement controversy about the
effect of such wounds : for the vulgar notion was that
no person struck by a cannon ball on the shoulder could
recover. The disputants appealed to medical authority;
and the doors of the great surgeons and physicians were
thronged, it was jocosely said, as if there had been a
pestilence in Paris. The question was soon settled by
a letter from James, which announced his defeat and
his arrival at Brest.*
EflFect pro- At Romc the news from Ireland produced a sensa-
Rome^by tiou of a vcry different kind. There too the report of
from^^iTL W^^^^'s death was, during a short time, creditai. At
land. the French embassy all was joy and triumph : but the
Ambassadors of the House of Austria were in despair ;
and the aspect of the Pontifical Court by no means
indicated exultation.f Melfort, in a transport of joy,
sate down to write a letter of congratulation to Man-
of Modena. That letter is still extant, and would alone
suffice to explain why he was the favourite of James.
Herod, — so William was designated, — ^was gone. There
must be a restoration; and that restoration ought to
be followed by a terrible revenge and by the establish-
ment of despotism. The power of the purse must be
taken away from the Commons. Political offenders
* Monthly Mercury for August f " ^^® tiene," the Marquis of
1690 ; Burnet, ii. 50.; Dangeau, CogoUudo, Spanish minister it
Aug. 2. 1690, and Saint Sinoon's Rome, says of this report, " en
note ; The Follies of France, or a sumo cuidado y desconsuelo, pues
true Relation of the extravagant Re- esta seria la ultima ruina de la causa
joicings, &c., dated Paris, Aug. 8. comun/' — CogoUudo to RonquiiJo,
1^90. Rome, Aug. 2. I69O.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 645
must be tried, not by juries, but by judges on whom the chap.
Crown could depend. The Habeas Corpus Act must be ^^^'
rescinded. The authors of the Revolution must be pu- 1690.
nished with merciless severity. " If," the cruel apostate
TiTote, " if the King is forced to pardon, let it be as few
rogues as he can."* After the lapse of some anxious
hours, a messenger bearing later and more authentic in-
telligence alighted at the palace occupied by the repre-
sentative of the Catholic King. In a moment all was
changed. The enemies of France, — and all the popula-
tion, except Frenchmen and British Jacobites, were her
enemies, — eagerly felicitated one another. All the
clerks of the Spanish legation were too few to make
transcripts of the despatches for the Cardinals and
Bishops who were impatient to know the details of the
victory. The first copy was sent to the Pope, and was
doubtless welcome to him»f
The good news from Ireland reached London at a Effect pro-
moment when good news was needed. The English ^^oahj
flag had been disgraced in the English seas. A foreign ^^^ ^^"^^
enemy threatened the coast. Traitors were at work uISSl
within the realm. Mary had exerted herself beyond
her strength. Her gentle nature was unequal to the
cruel anxieties of her position ; and she complained
that she could scarcely snatch a moment from business
to calm herself by prayer. Her distress rose to the
highest point when she learned that the camps of her
father and her husband were pitched near to each other,
and that tidings of a battle might be hourly expected.
She stole time for a visit to Kensington, and had three
hours of quiet in the garden, then a rural solitude. J
* Original Letters^ published by CogoUudo to {lonquillo, postscript
Sir Henrj Ellis. to the letter of Aug. 2. CogoUudo^
t ** Bel saceiio de Irlanda doy a v. of course, uses the new style. The
£xca la eDorabnena, y le aaeguro no tidings of the battle, therefore, had
ha bastado caai ]a gente que tengo en been three weeks in getting to Rome.
la Secretaria para repartir copias ^ Evelyn (Feb. 25. l6ff ) calls
dello^ pues le he embiado a todo el it '^ a sweet yilhu"
lugar, y la primera al Papa." —
TT 3
646 HISTOBY OF BNQLAND.
CHAP. But the recollection of days passed there with him whom
^^^' she might never see again overpowered her. "The
1690. place," she wrote to him, " made me think how happy I
was there when I had your dear company. But now I
will say no more ; for I shall hurt my own eyes, which
I want now more than ever. Adieu. Thiiik of me,
and love me as much as I shall you, whom I love more
than my life." *
Early on the morning after these tender lines had
been despatched, Whitehall was roused by the arrival
of a post from Ireland. Nottingham was called out of
bed. The Queen, who was just going to the chapel
where she daily attended divine service, was informed
that William had been wounded. She had wept much:
but tUl that moment she had wept alone, and had con-
strained herself to show a cheerfiil countenance to her
Court and Council. But when Nottingham put her
husband's letter into her hands, she burst into tears.
She was still trembling with the violence of her emo-
tions, and had scarcely finished a letter to William in
which she poured out her love, her fears and her thank-
fulness, with the sweet natural eloquence of her sex,
when another messenger arrived with the news that the
English army had forced a passage across the Boyne, that
the Irish were flying in confusion, and that the King was
well. Yet she was visibly uneasy till Nottingham had
assured her that James was safe. The grave Secretary,
who seems to have really esteemed and loved her, af-
terwards described with much feeling that struggle of
filial duty with conjugal afiection. On the same day
she wrote to adjure her husband to see that no harm
befell her father. " I know," she said, " I need not beg
you to let him be taken care of : for I am confident you
will for your own sake : yet add that to all your kind-
ness ; and, for my sake, let people know you would
♦ Mary to William, July 5. I69O.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 647
have no hurt happen to his person."* This solicitude, chap.
though amiable, was superfluous. Her father was per- ^^^'
fectly competent to take care of himself. He had never, 1^90.
during the battle, run the smallest risk of hurt ; and,
while his daughter ^vas shuddering at the dangers to
which she fancied that he was exposed in Ireland, he
was half way on his voyage to France.
It chanced that the glad tidings arrived at Whitehall
on the day to which the Parliament stood prorogued.
The Speaker and several members of the House of Com-
mons who were in London met, according to form, at
ten in the morning, and were summoned by Black Rod
to the bar of the Peers. The Parliament was then
again prorogued by commission. As soon as this ce-
remony had been performed, the Chancellor of the Ex-
chequer put into the hands of the Clerk the despatch
which had just arrived from Ireland, and the Clerk read
it with a loud voice to the lords and gentlemen pre-
sent.f The good news spread rapidly from Westminster
Hall to all the coffeehouses, and was received with
transports of joy. For those Englishmen who wished
to see an English army beaten and an English colony
extirpated by the French and Irish were a minority
even of the Jacobite party.
On the ninth day after the battle of the Boyne James jameg
landed at Brest, with an excellent appetite, in high pran^."^
spirits, and in a talkative humour. He told the history hi« "-ecep-
of his defeat to every body who would listen to him. ^^^ ^ ®^
But French officers who understood war, and who
compared his story with other accounts, pronounced
that, though His Majesty had witnessed the battle, he
knew nothing about it, except that his army had been
routed. J From Brest he proceeded to Saint Germains,
* Mary to Willianiy July 6. and Memoirs of the Intendant Foacault,
7. 1690 ; Burnet^ ii. 55. and printed in the work of M. de
"f Baden to Van Citters^ July •j'*^. Sirtema des Grovestins. In the
1690. archives of the War Office at Faris
X See two letters annexed to the is a letter written from Brest hy the
T T 4
648 HISTORY OE ENGLAKD.
CHAP, where, a few hours after his arrival, he was visited by
^ Lewis. The French King had too much delicacy and
16*90. generosity to utter a word which could sound like re-
proach. Nothing, he declared, that could conduce to
the comfort of the royal family of England should be
wanting, as far as his power extended. But he was by
no means disposed to Ust^ to the political and military
projects of his unlucky guest. James recontmiended an
immediate descent on Enghmd. That kingdom, he
said, had been drained of troops by the demands of
Ireland. The seven or eight thousand regular soldiers
who were left would be unable to withstand a great
French army. The people were ashamed of their error
and impatient to repair it. As soon as their rightful
King showed himself, they would rally round hun in
multitudes** Lewis was too polite and goodnatured
to express what he must have felt. He contented him-
self with answering coldly that he could not decide
upon any plan about the British islands till he had
heard from his generals in Ireland. James was impor-
tunate, and seemed to think himself ill used, because, a
fortnight after he had run away from one army, he was
not entrusted with another* Lewis was not to be pro-
voked into uttering an unkind or uncourteous word:
but he was resolute ; and, in order to avoid solicita-
tions which gave him pain, he pretended to be unweU.
During some time, whenever James came to Versailles,
he was respectfully informed that His Most Christian
Majesty was not equal to the transaction of business.
The highspirited and quickwitted nobles who daily
Count of Bouridftl on July ^. 1 69O. • It was not only on this occtrion
The Count says: ''Par la relation that James held this language. From
du combat que j'ay entendu faire one of the letters quoted in the last
au Roy d'Angleterre et k plusieurs note it appears that on his road from
de sa suite en particulier, 11 ne me Brest to Paris he told every body
paroit pas qu'il soit bien inform^ de that the English were impatiently
tout ce qui s'est passe dans cctte ac- expecting him. " Ce pauvre prince
tion, et qu'il ne s^ait que la deroute croit que ses sujets Taiment encore."
de ses troupes."
WILLIAM AND MARY. 649
crowded the antechambers could not help sneering chap.
while they bowed low to the royal visitor, whose pol- ^^^'
troonery and stupidity had a second time made him an 1690.
exile and a mendicant. They even whispered their sar-
casms loud enough to call up the haughty blood of the
Guelphs in the cheeks of Mary of Modena. But the
insensibility of James was of no common kind. It had
long been found proof against reason and against pity.
It now sustained a still harder trial, and was found
proof even against contempt.*
While he was enduring with ignominious fortitude the Tourvmc
polite scorn of the French aristocracy, and doing his Je^J^nt'on
best to weary out his benefactor's patience and good England.
breeding by repeating that this was the very moment
for an invasion of England, and that the whole island
was impatiently expecting its foreign deliverers, events
were passing which signally proved how little the ba-
nished oppressor understood the character of his coun-
trymen.
Tourville had, since the battle of Beachy Head,
ranged the Channel unopposed. On the twenty first
of July his masts were seen from the rocks of Portland.
On the twenty second he anchored in the harbour of
Torbay, under the same heights which had, not many
months before, sheltered the armament of William. The
French fleet, which now had a considerable number of
troops on board, consisted of a hundred and eleven sail.
The galleys, which formed a large part of this force,
resembled rather those ships with which Alcibiades and
Lysander disputed the sovereignty of the -Slgean than
those which contended at the Nile and at Trafalgar.
The galley was very long and very narrow, the deck
not more than two feet from the water edge. Each
galley was propelled by fifty or sixty huge oars, and
each oar was tugged by five or six slaves. The full
* Life of James, ii. 411, 412. ; Burnet, li. 57., and Dartmouth's note.
050 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, complement of slaves to a vessel was three hundred and
1 thirty six ; the full complement of officers and soldiers
1690. a hundred and fifty. Of the unhappy rowers some
were criminals who had been justly condemned to a
life of hardship and danger : a few had been guilty
only of adhering obstinately to the Huguenot worship :
the great majority were purchased bondsmen, generally
Turks and Moors. They were of course always form-
ing plans for massacring their tyrants and escaping
from servitude, and could be kept in order only by con-
stant stripes and by the frequent infliction of death in
horrible forms. Aji Englishman, who happened to fiedl
in with about twelve hundred of these most miserable
and most desperate of human beings on their road from
Marseilles to join Tourville's squadron, heard them
vowing that, if they came near a man of war bearing
the cross of Saint George, they would never again see
a French dockyard.*
In the Mediterranean galleys were in ordinary use :
but none had ever before been seen on the stormy ocean
which roars round our island. The flatterers of Lewis
said that the appearance of such a squadron on the
Atlantic was one of those wonders which were reserved
for his reign ; and a medal was struck at Paris to com-
memorate this bold experiment in maritime war.f Eng-
lish sailors, with more reason, predicted that the first
gale would send the whole of this fairweather armament
to the bottom of the Channel. Indeed the galley, like
the ancient trireme, generally kept close to the shore,
and ventured out of sight of land only when the water
was unruflled and the sky serene. But the qualities
which made this sort of ship unfit to brave tempests
and billows made it peculiarly fit for the purpose of land-
* See the articles Galere and Ga- on the English Prisoners of War, hj
Icrien, in the Encyclop^die^ with the R. Hutton, licensed Jane S7. J69O.
])Iate8 ; A 'i'nic Relation of Uie Cruel- f See the Collection of Medals of
ties and Barbarities of the French up- Jjewis the Fourteenth.
WILLIAM AM) MART.
ing soldiers. Tourville determined to try what effect
would be produced by a disembarkation. The English
Jacobites who had taken refuge in France were all
confident that the whole population of the island was
ready to raUy round an invading army : and he proba-
bly gave them credit for understanding the temper of
their countrymen.
Never was there a greater error. Indeed the French
admiral is said by tradition to have received, while he
was still out at sea, a lesson which might have taught
him not to rely on the assurances of exiles. He
picked up a fishing boat, and interrogated the owner,
a plain Sussex man, about the sentiments of the
nation. " Are you," he said, " for King James ? "
" I do not know much about such matters," answered
the fisherman. ^^ I have nothing to say against Xing
James. He is a very worthy gentleman, I believe.
God bless him I " "A good fellow ! " said Tourville :
"then I am sure you will have no objection to take
service with us." " What ! " cried the prisoner ; "go
with the French to fight against the English ! Your
honour must excuse me : I could not do it to save my
life." * This poor fisherman, whether he was a real
or an imaginary person, spoke the sense of the nation.
The beacon on the ridge overlooking Teignmouth was
kindled: the High Tor and Causland made answer; and
soon all the hill tops of the West were on fire. Mes-
sengers were riding hard all night from Deputy Lieu-
tenant to Deputy Lieutenant. Early the next morning,
without chief, without summons, five hundred gentlemen
and yeomen, armed and mounted, had aaseinbled on
the summit of Haldon Hill. Li twenty fo\xT bours all
Devonshire was up. Every road in the ^\xivty from
♦ This anecdote, true or false, heard in their >^ ^\, V% ^^^
was current at the time, or soon in the Gentlei^?^XVYu, ^\^^ ^^
after. In 1745 it was mentioned year f rom auf^^^"^ ^ A V^^
as a story which old people had ^V A^
/
652 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND*
CHAP, sea to sea was covered by multitudes of fighting men,
^^^- all with their faces set towards Torbay. The lords of
1690. a hundred manors, proud of theuf long pedigrees and
old coats of arms, took the field at the head of their
tenantry. Drakes, Prideauxes and BoUes, Fowell rf
Fowelscombe and Fulford of Fulford, Sir Bourchier
Wray of Tawstock Park and Sir William Courtenay of
Powderham Castle. Letters written by several of the
Deputy Lieutenants who were most active during this
anxious week are still preserved. All these letters agree
in extolling the courage and enthusiasm of the people.
But all agree also in expressing the most painful so-
licitude as to the result of an encounter between a raw
militia and veterans who had served under Turenne
and Luxemburg ; and •all call for the help of regular
troops, in language very unlike that which, when the
pressure of danger was not felt, country gentlemen
were then in the habit of using about standing armies.
Teign- Tourvillc, finding that the whole population was
stroyed^"^" ^i^it^d as onc man against him, contented himself with
sending his galleys to ravage Teignmouth, now a gay
watering place consisting of twelve hundred houses,
then an obscure viUage of about forty cottages. The
inhabitants had fled. Their dwellings were burned : the
venerable parish church was sacked, the pulpit and the
communion table demolished, the Bibles and Prayer
Books torn and scattered about the roads: the cattle
and pigs were slaughtered; and a few small vessels
which were employed in fishing or in the coasting
trade, were destroyed. By this time sixteen or seven-
teen thousand Devonshire men had encamped close
to the shore ; and all the neighbouring counties had
risen. The tin mines of Cornwall had sent forth a
great multitude of rude and hardy men mortally hostile
to Popery. Ten thousand of them had just signed an
address to the Queen, in which they had promised to
stand by her against every enemy ; and they now kept
WILLIAM AND MARY. 653
their word.* In truth, the whole nation was stirred, chap.
Two and twenty troops of cavalry, furnished by Suf- ^^^
folk, Essex, Hertfordshire and Buckinghamshire, were ^^90.
reviewed by Mary at Hounslow, and were compli-
mented by Marlborough on their martial appearance.
The militia of Kent and Surrey encamped on Black-
heath.f Van Citters informed the States General that
all England was up in arms, on foot or on horseback,
that the disastrous event of the battle of Beachy Head
had not cowed, but exasperated the people, and that
every company of soldiers which he passed on the
road was shouting with one voice, " God bless King
William and Queen Mary." J
Charles Granville, Lord Lansdowne, eldest son of the
Earl of Bath, came with some troops from the garri-
son of Plymouth to take the command of the tumul-
tuary army which had assembled round the basin of
Torbay. Lansdowne was no novice. He had served
several hard campaigns against the common enemy
of Christendom, and had been created a Count of the
Roman Empire in reward of the valour which he had
displayed on that memorable day, sung by Filicaja
and by Waller, when the infidels retired from the walls
of Vienna. He made preparations for action ; but the
French did not choose to attack him, and were indeed
impatient to depart. They found some difficulty in
getting away. One day the wind was adverse to the
sailing vessels. Another day the water was too rough
for the galleys. At length the fleet stood out to sea.
* London Gaiette, July 7- I69O. Toorgevallen bataille Terbittert en
f Narcissus LuttreU's Diary. geanimeert waren. Gelyk door de
"l I give this interesting passage troupes^ dewelke ik op de weg alom-
in Van Citters's own words. *^ Door me gepasseert ben^ niet anders heb
geheel bet ryk alles te voet en te konnen hooren als een eenpaarig en
paarde in de wapenen op was ; en' t gener al geluydt van God bless
geue een seer groote gerustheyt gaf King William en Queen Mary,
was dat alle en een yder even seer ^HlZJ^ I69O.
tegen de Franse door de laatste ^^^'**
654 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. As the line of ships turned the lofty cape which over-
L looks Torquay, an incident happened which, though
1690. slight in itself, greatly interested the thousands who
lined the coast. Two wretched slaves disengaged them-
selves from an oar, and sprang overboard. One of them
perished. The other, after struggling more than an
hour in the water, came safe to English ground, aod
was cordially welcomed by a population to which the
discipline of the galleys was a thing strange and shock-
ing. He proved to be a Turk, and was humanely sent
back to his own coimtry.
Excite- A pompous description of the expedition appeared in
Engiur^^ the Paris Gazette. But in truth TourviUe's exploits
nation had bccu iuglorious, and yet less inglorious than impo-
French.^ ^ litic. The injury which he had done bore no proportion
to the resentment which he had roused. Hitherto the
Jacobites had tried to persuade the nation that the
French would come as friends and deliverers, would
observe strict discipline, would respect the temples and
the ceremonies of the established religion, and would
depart as soon as the Dutch oppressors had been ex-
pelled and the ancient constitution of the realm restored.
The short visit of Tourville to our coast had shown how
little reason there was to expect such moderation from
the soldiers of Lewis. They had been in our island
only a few hours, and had occupied only a few acres.
But within a few hours and a few acres had been exhi-
bited in miniature the devastation of the Palatinate.
What had happened was communicated to the whole
kingdom far more rapidly than by gazettes or news
letters. A brief for the relief of the people of Teign-
mouth was read in all the ten thousand parish churches
of the land. No congregation could hear without emo-
tion that the Popish marauders had made desolate the
habitations of quiet and humble peasants, had outraged
the altars of God, had torn to pieces the Gospels and
the Communion service. A street, built out of the con-
WILLIAM AND MABY. 655
tributions of the charitable, on the site of the dwellinffs chap.
which the invaders had destroyed, still retains the name 1
of French Street.* 1690.
The outcry against those who were, with good reason,
suspected of having invited the enemy to make a descent
on our shores was vehement and general, and was
swollen by many voices which had recently been loud
in clamour against the government of William. The
question had ceased to be a question between two dy-
nasties, and had become a question between England
and France. So strong was the national sentiment that
nonjurors and Papists shared or affected to share it.
Dryden, not long after the burning of Teignmouth, laid
a play at the feet of Halifax, with a dedication emi-
nently ingenious, artful, and eloquent. The dramatist
congratulated his patron on having taken shelter in a
calm haven from the storms of public life, and, with
great force and beauty of diction, magnified the felicity
of the statesman who exchanges the bustle of office
and the fame of oratory for philosophic studies and do-
mestic endearments. England could not^ complain that
she was defrauded of the service to which she had a
right. Even the severe discipline of ancient Rome per-
mitted a soldier, after many campaigns, to claim his dis-
mission ; and Halifax had surely done enough* for his
* As to this expedition I have Earl of Bath. These four letters
consulted the London Gazettes of are among the MSS. of the Royal
July 24. 28. 31. Aug. 4. I69O; Irish Academy. Extracts from the
Narcissus Luttrell's Diary ; Wei- hrief are given in Lyson*s Britan-
wood's Mercurius Reformatus, Sept. nia. Dangeau inserted in his Jour-
5. ; the Gazette de Paris; a letter nal, August I6., a series of extrava-
from Mr. Duke, a Deputy Lieu- gant lies. Tourville had routed the
tenant of Devonshire, to Hampden, militia, taken their cannon and co-
dated July 25. ; a letter from Mr. lours, hurned men of war, captured
Fulford of Fulford to Lord Not- richly laden merchantships, and was
tingham, dated July 26. ; a letter going to destroy Plymouth. This is
of the same date from the Deputy a fair specimen of Dangeau's English
Lieutenants of Devonshire to the news. Indeed he complains that it
Earl of Bath ; a letter of the same was hardly possible to get at true
date from Lord Lansdowne to the information about England.
Wte Press.
656 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, country to be entitled to the same privilege. But the
^^^ poet added that there was one case in which the Ro-
1690. man veteran, even after his discharge, was required
to resume his shield and his pilimi ; and that one case
was an invasion of the Gauls. That a writer who had
purchased the smiles of James by apostasy, who had
been driven in disgrace from the court of William, and
who had a deeper interest in the restoration of the
exiled House than any man who made letters his
calling, should have used, whether sincerely or insin-
cerely, such language as this, is a fact which may con-
vince us that the determination never to be subjugated
by foreigners was fixed in the hearts of the people.*
TheJaco- There was indeed a Jacobite literature in which no
trace of this patriotic spirit can be detected, a literature
the remains of which prove that there were Englishmen
perfectly willing to see the English flag dishonoured,
the English soil invaded, the English capital sacked, the
English crown worn by a vassal of Lewis, if only they
might avenge themselves on their enemies, and espe-
cially on William, whom they hated with a hatred liaK
frightful half ludicrous. But this literature was aho-
gether a work of darkness. The law by which the Par-
liament of James had subjected the press to the control
of censors was still in force ; and, though the officers
whose business it was to prevent the infraction of that
law were not extreme to mark every irregularity com-
mitted by a bookseller who understood the art of convey-
ing a guinea in a squeeze of the hand, they could not
wink at the open vending of unlicensed pamphlets filled
with ribald insults to the Sovereign, and with direct in-
stigations to rebellion. But there had long lurked in
the garrets of London a class of printers who worked
steadily at their calling with precautions resembling
those employed by coiners and forgers. Women were
* Dedication of Arthur.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 657
on the watch to give the alarm by their screams if an chap.
officer appeared near the workshop. The press was im- ^^^
mediately pushed into a closet behind the bed : the types 1690.
were flung into the coalhole, and covered with cinders :
the compositor disappeared through a trapdoor in the
roof, and made off over the tiles of the neighbouring
houses. In these dens were manufactured treasonable
works of all classes and sizes, from halfpenny broad-
sides of doggrel verse up to massy quartos filled with
Hebrew quotations. It was not safe to exhibit such
publications openly on a counter. They were sold only
by trusty agents, and in secret places. Some tracts
which were thought likely to produce a great effect were
given away in immense numbers at the expense of
wealthy Jacobites. Sometimes a paper was thrust
under a door, sometimes dropped on the table of a
coffeehouse. One day a thousand copies of a scurrilous
pamphlet went out by the postbags. On another day,
when the shopkeepers rose early to take down their
shutters, they found the whole of Fleet Street and the
Strand white with seditious handbills.*
Of the numerous performances which were ushered TheJaco-
into the world by such shifts as these, none produced a ^j^^Pona
greater sensation than a little book which purported to and Humi-
be a form of prayer and humiliation for the use of the ^****®°*
persecuted Church. It was impossible to doubt that
a considerable sum had been expended on this work.
Ten thousand copies were, by various means, scattered
over the kingdom. No more mendacious, more ma-
lignant or more impious lampoon was ever penned.
Though the government had as yet treated its enemies
with a lenity unprecedented in the history of our coun-
* See the accounts of Anderton*s I695. The appendix to these Dis-
Trial, lf)93 ; the Postman of March courses contains a curious account of
12. l69f ; the Flying Post of March the inquisition into printing offices
7. 1 700 ; Some Discourses upon Dr. under the Licensing Act.
Burnet and Dr. TiUotson^ hy Hickes,
VOL. m. U U
658 HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, try, though not a single person had, since the Revoln-
^^^ tion, suffered death for any political offence, the authors
1690. of this liturgy were not ashamed to pray that God would
assuage their enemy's insatiable thirst for blood, or would,
if any more of them were to be brought through the
Red Sea to the Land of Promise, prepare them for the
passage. * They complained that the Church of Eng-
land, once the perfection of beauty, had become a scorn
and derision, a heap of ruins, a vineyard of wild grapes;
that her services had ceased to deserve the name of
public worship ; that the bread and wine which she
dispensed had no longer any sacramental virtue ; that
her priests, in the act of swearing fealty to the usurper,
had lost the sacred character which had been conferred
on them by their ordination.f James was profanely
described as the stone which foolish builders had reject-
ed ; and a fervent petition was put up that Providence
would again make him the head of the comer. The
blessings which were called down on our country were
of a singular description. There was something very
like a prayer for another Bloody Circuit ; " Give the
King the necks of his enemies:" there was something
very like a prayer for a French invasion ; " Raise him
up friends abroad;" and there was a more mysterious
prayer, the best comment on which was afterwards fur-
nished by the Assassination Plot ; " Do some great
thing for him, which we in particular know not how to
pray for." J
* This was the ordinary cant of ments. Raise up the former govern-
the Jacobites. A Whig writer had ment both in church and state, that
justly said in the preceding year, we may be no longer without King,
" They scurrilously call our David without priest^ without God in the
a man of blood, though, to this day, world."
he has not suffered a drop to be J A Form of Prayer and Ha-
epilt" — Mephibosheth and Ziba, li- miliation for God's Blessing upon
censed Aug. 30. I689. His Majesty and his Dominions, and
t '* Restore unto us again the for Removing and Averting of God's
publick worship of thy name, the Judgments from this Church and
reverent administration of thy sacra- State, 1690.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 659
This liturgy was composed, circulated, and read, it chap.
is said, in some congregations of Jacobite schismatics, ^^^
before William set out for Ireland, but did not attract ^^90.
general notice till the appearance of a foreign armament ^^^"J^h^
on our coast had roused the national spirit. Then rose nonjuring
a roar of indignation against the Englishmen who had ^^^^^
dared, under the hypocritical pretence of devotion, to
imprecate curses on England. The deprived Prelates
were suspected, and not without some show of reason.
For the nonjurors were, to a man, zealous Episcopalians.
Their doctrine was that, in ecclesiastical matters of
grave moment, nothing could be well done without the
sanction of the Bishop. And could it be believed that
any who held this doctrine would compose a service,
print it, circulate it, and actually use it in public wor-
ship, without the approbation of Sancroft, whom the
whole party revered, not only as the true Primate of
all England, but also as a Saint and a Confessor ? It
was known that the Prelates who had refused the oaths
had lately held several consultations at Lambeth. The
subject of those consultations, it was now said, might
easily be guessed. The holy fathers had been engaged
in framing prayers for the destruction of the Protestant
colony in Ireland, for the defeat of the English fleet in
the Channel, and for the speedy arrival of a French
army in Kent. The extreme section of the Wfiig party
pressed this accusation with vindictive eagerness. This
then, said those implacable politicians, was the fruit
of King William's merciful policy. Never had he com-
mitted a greater error than when he had conceived
the hope that the hearts of the clergy were to be won
by clemency and moderation. He had not chosen to
give credit to men who had learned by a long and bitter
experience that no kindness wiU tame the sullen ferocity
of a priesthood. He had stroked and pampered when
he should have tried the effect of chains and hunger.
He had hazarded the good will of his best friends by
u u 2
660 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, protecting his worst enemies. Those Bishops who had
publicly refused to acknowledge him as their Sovereign,
1690. and who, by that refusal, had forfeited their dignities
and revenues, still continued to live unmolested in pa-
laces which ought to be occupied by better men : and
for this indulgence, an indulgence imexampled in the
history of revolutions, what return had been made to
him? Even this, that the men whom he had, with so
much tenderness, screened from just punishment, had
the insolence to describe him in their prayers as a per-
secutor defiled with the blood of the righteous : they
asked for grace to endure with fortitude his sanguinary
tyranny : they cried to heaven for a foreign fleet and
army to deliver them from his yoke : nay, they hinted
at a wish so odious that even they had not the front to
speak it plainly. One writer, in a pamphlet which pro-
duced a great sensation, expressed his wonder that the
people had not, when Tourville was riding victorious in
the Channel, Dewitted the nonjuring Prelates. Excited
as the public mind then was, there was some danger
that this suggestion might bring a furious mob to Lam-
beth. At Norwich indeed the people actually rose, at-
tacked the palace which the Bishop was still sufiered to
occupy, and would have pulled it down but for the
timely arrival of the trainbands.* The government
very properly instituted criminal proceedings against
the publisher of the work which had produced this
alarming breach of the peace.f The deprived Prelates
meanwhile put forth a defence of their conduct- In
this document they declared, with all solenmity, and
as in the presence of God, that they had no hand in
the new liturgy, that they knew not who had framed
it, that they had never used it, that they had never
held any correspondence directly or inirectly with
• Letter of Lloyd, Bishop of f Narcisros LuttreU's Diarj.
Norwich, to Sancroft, in the Tan-
ner MSS.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 661
the French court, that they were engaged in no plot chap.
against the existing government, and that they would
willingly shed their blood rather than see England sub- 1^90.
jugated by a foreign prince, who had, in his own king-
dom, cruelly persecuted their Protestant brethren. As
to the writer who had marked them out to the public
vengeance by a fearful word, but too well understood,
they commended him to the Divine mercy, and heartily
prayed that his great sin might be forgiven him. Most
of those who signed this paper did so doubtless with
perfect sincerity: but it soon appeared that one at
least of the subscribers had added to the crime of be-
traying his country the crime of calling his God to wit-
ness a falsehood.*
The events which were passing in the Channel and MiUtary
on the Continent compelled William to make repeated S^ireuSd:
changes in his plans. During the week which followed Waterford
his triumphal entry into Dublin, messengers charged
with evil tidings arrived from England in rapid suc-
cession. First came the account of Waldeck's defeat
at Fleurus. The King was much disturbed. All the
pleasure, he said, which his own victory had given him
was at an end. Yet, with that generosity which was
hidden under his austere aspect, he sate down, even
in the moment of his first vexation, to write a kind
and encouraging letter to the unfortunate general.f
Three days later came intelligence more alarming still.
The allied fleet had been ignominiously beaten. The
sea from the Downs to the Land's End was in posses-
sion of the enemy. The next post might bring news
that Kent was invaded. A French squadron might
* a Modest Inquiry into the Midnight Touch at an UnUcenied
Causes of the present Disasters in Pamphlet, I69O. The paper signed
England, and who they are that hy the nonjuring Bishops has often
hrought the French into the English heen reprinted.
Channel described, I69O; Reflec- f William to Heinsius, July ■^.
tions upon a Form of Prayer lately I69O.
set out for the Jacobites, I69O ; A
u u 9
662 HISTORY OF England.
CHAP, appear in Saint George's Channel, and might without
^^^ difficulty bum all the transports which were anchored
1690. in the Bay of Dublin. William determined to return
to England ; but he wished to obtain, before he went,
the command of a safe haven on the eastern coast of
Ireland. Waterford was the place best suited to his
purpose : and towards Waterford he immediately pro-
ceeded. Clonmel and Kilkenny were abandoned by
the Irish troops as soon as it was known that he was
approaching. At Kilkenny he was entertained, on the
nineteenth of July, by the Duke of Ormond in the
ancient castle of the Butlers, which had not long before
been occupied by Lauzun, and which therefore, in the
midst of the general devastation, still had tables and
chairs, hangings on the walls, and claret in the cellars.
On the twenty first two regiments which garrisoned
Waterford consented to march out after a faint show
of resistance : a few hours later the fort of Duncannon,
which, towering on a rocky promontory, commanded
the entrance of the harbour, was surrendered; and
William was master of the whole of that secure and
spacious basin which is formed by the united waters
of the Suir, the Nore and the Barrow. He then an-
nounced his intention of instantly returning to Eng-
land, and, having declared Count Solmes Commander
in Chief of the army of Ireland, set out for Dublin.*
But good news met him on the road. Tourville had
appeared on the coast of Devonshire, had put some
troops on shore, and had sacked Teignmouth : but the
only eflfect of this insult had been to raise the whole
population of the western counties in arms against the
invaders. The enemy had departed, after doing just
mischief enough to make the cause of James as odious
for a time to Tories as to Whigs. William therefore
again changed his plans, and hastened back to his army,
• Story ; London Gazette, Aug. 4. I69O ; Dumont MS.
WILLIAM AND MABY.
which, during his absence, had moved westward, and c
which he rejoined in the neighbourhood of CasheL*
About this time he received firom Mary a letter ^
requesting him to decide an important question on
which the Council of Nine was divided. Marlborough
was of opinion that all danger of invasion was over
for that year. The sea, he said, was open : for the
French ships had returned into port, and were re-
fitting. Now was the time to send an English fleet,
with five thousand troops on board, to the southern
extremity of Ireland. Such a force might easily re-
duce Cork and Kinsale, two of the most important
strongholds still occupied by the forces of James.
Marlborough was strenuously supported by Notting-
ham, and as strenuously opposed by the other members
of the interior council with Caermarthen at their head.
The Queen referred the matter to her husband. He
highly approved of the plan, and gave orders that it
should be executed by the General who had formed
it. Caermarthen submitted, though with a bad grace,
and with some murmurs at the extraordinary partiality
of His Majesty for Marlborough.f
William meanwhile was advancing towards Limerick. Th<
In that city the army which he had put to rout at the J^
Boyne had taken refuge, discomfited, indeed, and dis- ^^
graced, but very little diminished. He would not have Lan
had the trouble of besieging the place, if the advice of JJ^
Lauzun and of Lauzun's countrymen had been followed, p^
They laughed at the thought of defending such forti- defe
fications, and indeed would not admit that the name of
fortifications could properly be given to heaps of dirt,
which certainly bore little resemblance to the worka of
Valenciennes and Philipsburg. " It is ^titxecesaary,"
said Lauzun, with an oath, " for the Ex^rtYv^ ^ \itmg
cannon against such a place as this, xtTV^^^ ^^^ ^^^'^^^
* Story ; William to Heinsius, t ^^"^Y V^ c.^> ^^^* ^'
i^.l690;Lon<LG«.,Aug.ll. |^^^ -^^'^
u u 4 ^
V
664 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, your ramparts might be battered down with roasted
L apples." He therefore gave his voice for evacuating
1690. Limerick, and declared that, at all events, he was de-
termined not to throw away in a hopeless resistance the
lives of the brave men who had been entrusted to his
care by his master.* The truth is, that the judgment of
the brilliant and adventurous Frenchman was biassed by
his inclinations. He and his companions were sick of
Ireland. They were ready to face death with courage,
nay, with gaiety, on a field of battle. But the dull,
squalid, barbarous life, which they had now been leading
during several months, was more than they could bear.
They were as much out of the pale of the civilised world
as if they had been banished to Dahomey or Spitzbergen.
The climate affected their health and spirits. In that
unhappy country, wasted by years of predatory war,
hospitality could offer little more than a couch of straw,
a trencher of meat half raw and half burned, and a
draught of sour milk. A crust of bread, a pint of
wine, could hardly be purchased for money. A year
of such hardships seemed a century to men who had
always been accustomed to carry with them to the
camp the luxuries of Paris, soft bedding, rich tapes-
try, sideboards of plate, hampers of Champagne, opera
dancers, cooks and musicians. Better to be a prisoner
in the Bastille, better to be a recluse at La Trappe, than
to be generalissimo of the half naked savages who bur-
rowed in the dreary swamps of Munster. Any plea
was welcome which would serve as an excuse for re-
turning from that miserable exile to the land of corn-
fields and vineyards, of gilded coaches and laced cravats,
of ballrooms and theatres.f
* Macarie Excidium ; Mac Geo- Oct. 21. I69O, quoted in the Me-
ghegan; Life of James^ ii. 420.; moin of James, ii. 421. ''Aaimo,**
London Gazette, Aug. 14. I69O. says Colonel Kelly, the author of the
f The impatience of Lauzun and Macarie Excidium, '' diuturiiam ah-
his countrymen to get away from sentiam tam egre molesteque ferehat
Ireland is mentioned in a letter of ut helium in Cypro protrahi oontinii-
WILLIAM AND MABT. 665
Very different was the feeling of the children of chap.
the soil. The island, which to French courtiers was ^^^
a disconsolate place of banishment, was the Irishman's 1^9^
home. There were collected all the objects of his love The irWi
and of his ambition ; and there he hoped that his dust drfendSg
would one day mingle with the dust of his fathers, limerick.
To him even the heaven dark with the vapours of the
ocean, the wildernesses of black rushes and stagnant
water, the mud cabins where the peasants and the
swine shared their meal of roots, had a charm which
was wanting to the sunny skies, the cultured fields and
the stately mansions of the Seine. He could imagine
no fairer spot than his country, if only his country
could be freed from the tyranny of the Saxons ; and all
hope that his country would be freed from the tyranny
of the Saxons must be abandoned if Limerick were
surrendered.
The conduct of the Irish during the last two months
had sunk their military reputation to the lowest point.
They had, with the exception of some gallant regiments
of cavalry, fled disgracefully at the Bo)me, and had
thus incurred the bitter contempt both of their enemies
and of their allies. The English who were at Saint
Germains never spoke of the Irish but as a people of
dastards and traitors.* The French were so much
exasperated against the unfortunate nation, that Irish
merchants, who had been many years settled at Pa-
ris, durst not walk the streets for fear of being in-
sulted by the populace.f So strong was the prejudice,
arique ipso ei audita acerbissimum qui cum regina in Syria commorante
esset. Nee incredibile est ducum in remanserant, .... non cessabant
illius exercitu nonnullos, potissimum univenam nationem foede traducere,
qui patrii coeli dulcedinem impa- et ingestis insuper convitiis lacerare,
tientius suspirabant, sibi persuansse pavidos et malefldos proditores ac
desperataa Cypri res nulla humana mortalium consceleratisaimos publice
ope defendi sustentarique posse." appellando." — Macaric Excidium.
Asimo is Lauiun, and Cyprus Ire- The Cilicians are the English. Syria
land. is France.
* ** Panel illi ex Cilidbus aulicis^ f " Tanta infamia tarn operoso ar-
666 HISTOBY OF ENQLAim.
CHAP, that absurd stories were invented to explain the in-
^^^ trepidity with which the horse had fought. It was
1690. said that the troopers were not men of Celtic blood,
but descendants of the old English of the pale** It
was also said that they had been intoxicated with
brandy just before the battle.f Yet nothing can be
more certain than that they must have been generally
of Irish race; nor did the steady valour which they
displayed in a long and almost hopeless conflict against
great odds bear any resemblance to the fury of a coward
maddened by strong drink into momentary hardihood.
Even in the infantry, undisciplined and disorganized
as it was, there was much spirit, though little firm-
ness. Fits of enthusiasm and fits of faintheartedness
succeeded each other. The same battalion, which at
one time threw away its arms in a panic and shrieked
for quarter, would on another occasion fight valiantly.
On the day of the Boyne the courage of the ill trained
and ill commanded kernes had ebbed to the lowest
point. When they had rallied at Limerick, their blood
was up. Patriotism, fanaticism, shame, revenge, de-
spair, had raised them above themselves. With one
voice officers and men insisted that the city should be
defended to the last. At the head of those who were
for resisting was the brave Sarsfield; and his exhorta-
tions diffused through all ranks a spirit resembling his
own. To save his country was beyond his power. All
that he could do was to prolong her last agony through
one bloody and disastrous year.J
tificio et subtili commento in yulgus * I have seen this assertion in a
sparsa^ tam constantibus de Cypri- contemporary pamphlet of which I
orura perfidia atque opprobrio ru- cannot recollect the title,
raoribus, totam, qua lata est, Syriam t Story; Dumont MS.
ita pervasit, ut mercatorea Cyprii, + Macaris Excidium. Boisse-
.... propter inustum genti dedecns, leau remarked the ebb and flow of
intra domorum septa clausi nunquam courage among the Irish. I have
prod ire auderent ; tan to eorum odio quoted one of his letters to his wife,
populus in universum exarserat" — It is but just to quote another.
Macaric Excidium. ^« Nos Irlandois n'avoient jamais vu
WILLIAM AND liABY. 667
T)n'connel was altogether incompetent to decide the chap.
question on which the French and the Irish differed. ^^
The only military qualities that he had ever possessed ^690.
were personal bravery and skill in the use of the sword. J^^^jwt^
These qualities had once enabled him to frighten away defending
rivals from the doors of his mistresses, and to play the ^"^^"^
Hector at cockpits and hazard tables. But more was
necessary to enable him to form an opinion as to the
possibility of defending Limerick. He would probably,
had his temper been as hot as in the days when he diced
with Grammont and threatened to cut the old Duke of
Ormond's throat, have voted for running any risk how-
ever desperate. But age, pain and sickness had left
little of the canting, bullying, fighting Dick Talbot of
the Restoration. He had sunk into deep despondency.
He was incapable of strenuous exertion. The French
officers pronounced him utterly ignorant of the art of
war. They had observed that at the Boyne he had
seemed to be stupified, unable to give directions him-
self, unable even to make up his mind about the sug-
gestions which were offered by others.* The disasters
which had since followed one another in rapid suc-
cession were not likely to restore the tone of a mind
so pitiably unnerved. His wife was already in France
with the little which remained of his once ample for-
tune: his own wish was to follow her thither: his
voice was therefore given for abandoning the city.
At last a compromise was made. Lauzun and Tyr- Limerick
]e feu ; et cela les a surpris. Pre- pays^ surtout depuis le jour de notre
sentement^ ils sont si f&ch^s de n'avoir d^route : et, en effet, Monaeigneur,
pas fait leur devoir que je suia bien je me crois oblige de vous dire que
persuade qu'ils feront mieux pour dea le moment ou lea ennemis pa-
Favenir." rurent sur le bord de la riviere
* La Hoguette^ writing to Louvois le premier jour, et dans toute la
from Limerick, ^"]|^ I690, says joum^ du lendemain, il parut k
of Tyrconnel: " II a d'aiUeurs trop f^"* le monde dans une si grande
peu de connoissance des choses de ^^*^"^^ ^^^^^ ^^»' incapable de
notre metier. II a perdu absolu- prendre aucun parti, quelque chose
ment la confiancc dea officiers du qu on lui propoa&t-
668 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, connel, with the French troops, retired to Galway.
^^^ The great body of the native army, about twenty
1690. thousand strong, remained at Limerick. The chief
defoided command there was entrusted to Boisseleau, who un-
iriih alone, derstood the character of the Irish better, and conse-
quently judged them more favourably, than any of his
countrymen. In general, the French captains spoke of
their unfortunate allies with boundless contempt and
abhorrence, and thus made themselves as hatefiil as the
English.*
Lauzun and Tyrconnel had scarcely departed when
the advanced guard of William's army came in sight.
Soon the King himself, accompanied by Auverquerque
and Ginkell, and escorted by three hundred horse, rode
forward to examine the fortifications. The city, then
the second in Ireland, though less altered since that time
than most large cities in the British isles, has undergone
a great change. The new town did not then exist.
The ground now covered by those smooth and broad
pavements, those neat gardens, those stately shops flam-
ing with red brick, and gay with shawls and china, was
then an open meadow lying without the walls. The
city consisted of two parts, which had been designated
during several centuries as the English and the Irish
town. The English town stands on an island surrounded
by the Shannon, and consists of a knot of antique houses
with gable ends, crowding thick round a venerable ca-
thedral. The aspect of the streets is such that a tra-
veller who wanders through them may easily fancy
himself in Normandy or Flanders. Not far from the
cathedral, an ancient castle overgrown with weeds and
ivy looks down on the river. A narrow and rapid
stream, over which, in 1690, there was only a single
bridge, divides the English town from the quarter
* Desgrigny Bays of the Irish: pour nous. C'est la nation du moDde
<' lis sont totgours prets de nous la plus brutale, et qui a le moini
^gorger par Tantipathie qu*ils ont d'bumanit^." Aug. ^ 16^0.
WILLIAM AND MART. 669
anciently occupied by the hovels of the native popula- chap.
tion. The view from the top of the cathedral now ^^^
extends many miles over a level expanse of rich mould, 169a
through which the greatest of Irish rivers winds be-
tween artificial banks. But in the seventeenth cen-
tury those banks had not been constructed ; and that
wide plain, of which the grass, verdant even beyond the
verdure of Munster, now feeds some of the finest cattle
in Europe, was then almost always a marsh and often a
lake.*
When it was known that the Frenoh troops had
quitted Limerick, and that the Irish only remained, the
general expectation in the English camp was that the
city would be an easy conquest.f Nor was that ex-
pectation unreasonable : for even Sarsfield desponded.
One chance, in his opinion, there still was. William
had brought with him none but small guns. Several
large pieces of ordnance, a great quantity of provisions
and ammunition, and a bridge of tin boats, which in the
watery plain of the Shannon was frequently needed,
were slowly following from Cashel. If the guns and
gunpowder could be intercepted and destroyed, there
might be some hope. If not, all was lost; and the best
thing that a brave and high spirited Irish gentleman
could do was to forget the country which he had in vain
tried to defend, and to seek in some foreign land a
home or a grave.
A few hours, therefore, aflier the English tents had Sanfieid
been pitched before Limerick, Sarsfield set forth, under Se^S^
cover of the night, with a strong body of horse and ^^^ "f^
dragoons. He took the road to Klllaloe, and crossed
the Shannon there. During the day he lurked with his
band in a wild mountain tract named from the silver
mines which it contains. Those mines had many years
* Story ; Account of the Cities There are some curious old maps of
in Ireland that are still possessed Limerick in the British Museum,
by the Forces of KingJames^ I69O. f Story; Dumont MS.
670 HIST0B7 OF ENOLANP.
CHAP, before been worked by English proprietors, with the help
of engineers and labourers imported from the Continent.
1690. But, in the rebellion of 1641, the aboriginal population
had destroyed the works and massacred the workmen;
nor had the devastation then committed been since
repaired. In this desolate region Sarsfield found no
lack of scouts or of guides : for all the peasantry of
Munster were zealous on his side. He learned in the
evening that the detachment which guarded the Eng-
lish artillery had halted for the night about seven miles
from William^ camp, on a pleasant carpet of green
turf under the ruined walls of an old castle ; that offi-
cers and men seemed to think themselves perfectly
secure; that the beasts had been turned loose to graze,
and that even the sentinels were dozing. When it was
dark the Irish horsemen quitted their hiding place, and
were conducted by the people of the country to the
place where the escort lay sleeping round the guns.
The surprise was complete. Some of the English
sprang to their arms and made an attempt to resist,
but in vain. About sixty fell. One only was taken
alive. The rest fled. The victorious Irish made a huge
pile of waggons and pieces of cannon. Every gun
was stuffed vnth. powder, and fixed with its mouth in
the ground ; and the whole mass was blown up. The
solitary prisoner, a lieutenant, was treated with great
civility by Sarsfield. " If I had failed in this attempt,"
said the gaUant Irishman, " I should have been off to
France." *
Intelligence had been carried to William's head quar-
ters that Sarsfield had stolen out of Limerick and was
ranging the country. The King guessed the design of
his brave enemy, and sent five hundred horse to pi-o-
tect the guns. Unhappily there was some delay, which
the English, always disposed to believe the worst of tlie
Dutch courtiers, attributed to the negligence or per-
♦ Story ; James, ii, 41 6.; Burnet, ii. 58. ; Dnmont MS.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 671
verseness of Portland. At one in the morning the de- chap.
t^chment set out, but had scarcely left the camp when ^^^
a blaze like lightning and a crash like thunder an- 1690.
nounced to the wide plain of the Shannon that all was
over.*
Sarsfield had long been the favourite of his coun-
trymen; and this most seasonable exploit, judiciously
planned and vigorously executed, raised him still higher
in their estimation. Their spirits rose; and the be-
siegers began to lose heart. William did his best to
repair his loss. Two of the guns which had been blown
up were found to be still serviceable. Two more were
sent for from Waterford. Batteries were constructed
of small field pieces, which, though they might have
been useless against one of the fortresses of Hainault
or Brabant, made some impression on the feeble de-
fences of Limerick. Several outworks were carried by
storm; and a breach in the rampart of the city began
to appear.
During these operations, the English army was asto- Amvaiof
nished and amused by an incident, which produced o?^^^fi
indeed no very important consequences, but which il- »; Lim«-
lustrates in the most striking manner the real nature
of Irish Jacobitism. In the first rank of those great
Celtic houses, which, down to the close of the reign
of Elizabeth, bore rule in Ulster, were the O'Don-
nels. The head of that house had yielded to the skill
and energy of Mountjoy, had kissed the hand of James
the First, and had consented to exchange the rude in-
dependence of a petty prince for an eminently honour-
able place among British subjects. During a short
time the vanquished chief held the rank of an Earl,
and was the landlord of an immense domain of which
he had once been the sovereign. But soon he began to
suspect the government of plotting against him, and,
in revenge or in selfdefence, plotted against the go-
• Story ; Dumont MS.
672 HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, vemment. His schemes failed: he fled to the Conti-
^^^ nent : his title and his estates were forfeited ; and an
1690. Anglosaxon colony was planted in the territory which
he had governed. He meanwhile took refuge at the
court of Spain. Between that court and the aboriginal
Irish there had, during the long contest between Phi-
lip and Elizabeth, been a close connection. The exiled
chieftain was welcomed at Madrid as a good Catholic
flying from heretical persecutors. His illustrious de-
scent and princely dignity, which to the English were
subjects of ridicule, secured to him the respect of the
Castilian grandees. His honours were inherited by a
succession of banished men who lived and died far firom
the land where the memory of their family was fondly
cherished by a rude peasantry, and was kept fresh by
the songs of minstrels and the tales of begging friars.
At length, in the eighty third year of the exile of this
ancient dynasty, it was known over all Europe that the
Irish were again in arms for their independence. Bal-
dearg O'Donnel, who called himself the O'Donnel, a
title far prouder, in the estimation of his race, than
any marquisate or dukedom, had been bred in Spain,
and was in the service of the Spanish government. He
requested the permission of that government to repair
to Ireland. But the House of Austria was now closely
leagued with England ; and the permission was refused.
The O'Donnel made his escape, and by a circuitous route,
in the course of which he visited Turkey, arrived at
Kinsale a few days after James had sailed thence for
France. The effect produced on the native population
by the arrival of this solitary wanderer was marvellous.
Since Ulster had been reconquered by the Englishry,
great multitudes of the Irish inhabitants of that pro-
vince had migrated southward, and were now leading a
vagrant life in Connaught and Munster. These men,
accustomed from their infancy to hear of the good old
times, when the O'Donnel, solemnly inaugurated on the
WILLIAM AND MABT. 673
rock of Kilmacrenari by the successor of Saint Columb, chap.
governed the mountains of Donegal in defiance of the ^^^'
strangers of the pale, flocked to the standard of the ^^90.
restored exile. He was soon at the head of seven or
eight thousand Rapparees, or, to use the name peculiar
to Ulster, Creaghts; and his followers adhered to him
with a loyalty very different from the languid senti-
ment which the Saxon James had been able to inspire.
Priests and even Bishops swelled the train of the ad-
venturer. He was so much elated by his reception
that he sent agents to France, who assured the minis-
ters of Lewis that the O'Doimel would, if furnished
with arms and ammunition, bring into the field thirty
thousand Celts from Ulster, and that the Celts of
Ulster would be found far superior in every military
quality to those of Leinster, Munster and Connaught.
No expression used by Baldearg indicated that he con-
sidered himself as a subject. His notion evidently was
that the House of O'Donnel was as truly and as inde-
feasibly royal as the House of Stuart; and not a few
of his countrymen were of the same mind. He made
a pompous entrance into Limerick; and his appearance
there raised the hopes of the garrison to a strange
pitch. Numerous prophecies were recollected or in-
vented. An O'Donnel with a red mark was to be the
deliverer of his country ; and Baldearg meant a red
mark. An O'Donnel was to gain a great battle over
the English near Limerick; and at Limerick the O'Don-
nel and the English were now brought face to face.*
While these predictions were eagerly repeated by the Tiiebe-
defenders of the city, evil presages, grounded not on ■**^"
* See the tccount of the O'Don- Story's Impartial History ; Macaris
nels in Sir William Betham's Irish Excidium, and Mr. O'Callaghan's
Antiquarian Researches. It is strange note ; Life of James, ii. 434. ; the
that he makes no mention of Bal- Letter of O'Donnel to Avanx, and
dearg, whose appearance in Ireland the Memorial entitled, ** M^moire
is the most extraordinary event in donn^ par un homme du Comte
the whole history of the race. See a so 0*Donnel k M. lyAyaax."
VOL. in. X X
674 HISTOBY OF EKOLAND.
CHAP, barbarous oracles, but on grave military reasons, began
^^^ to disturb William and his most experienced officers.
1690. The blow struck by Sarsfield had told: the artillery
suffer from 1^^^ heen long in doing its work: that work was even
now very imperfectly done : the stock of powder had
begun to run low: the autumnal rain had begun to ML
The soldiers in the trenches were up to their knees in
mire. No precaution was neglected : but, though drains
were dug to carry off the water, and though pewter
basins of usquebaugh and brandy blazed all night in
the tents, cases of fever had already occurred; audit
might well be apprehended that, if the army remained
but a few days longer on that swampy soil, there would
be a pestilence more terrible than that which had raged
twelve months before under the walls of Dundalk.* A
council of war was held. It was determined to make one
great effort, and, if that effort failed, to raise the siege.
Unsuccess- On the twenty seventh of August, at three in the
on iSJe-^^ afternoon, the signal was given. Five hundred grena-
rick. The diers rushed from the English trenches to the coun-
rldTOd. terscarp, fired their pieces, and threw their grenades.
The Irish fled into the town, and were followed by the
assailants, who, in the excitement of victory, did not
wait for orders. Then began a terrible street fight.
The Irish, as soon as they had recovered from their
surprise, stood resolutely to their arms; and the Eng-
lish grenadiers, overwhelmed by numbers, were, with
great loss, driven back to the counterscarp. There the
struggle was long and desperate. When indeed was
the Roman Catholic Celt to fight if he did not fight
on that day ? The very women of Limerick mingled
in the combat, stood firmly under the hottest fire, and
flung stones and broken bottles at the enemy. In the
* The reader will remember Cor- passed in barracks : he was constant! j
poral Trim's explanation of radical listening to the talk of old soldiers
heat and radical moisture. Sterne who had served under King William,
is an authority not to be despised on and has used their stories like a man
these subjects. His boyhood was of true genius.
WILLIAM AND IfABY. 675
moment when the conflict was fiercest a mine exploded, chap.
and hurled a fine German battalion into the air. Dur- ^^'^'
ing four hours the carnage and uproar continued. The 1690.
thick cloud which rose from the breach streamed out
on the wind for many miles, and disappeared behind
the hills of Clare. Late in the evening the besiegers
retired slowly and sullenly to their camp. Their hope
was that a second attack would be made on the mor-
row ; and the soldiers vowed to have the town or die.
But the powder was now almost exhausted : the rain
fell in torrents : the gloomy masses of cloud which
came up from the south west threatened a havoc more
terrible than that of the sword ; and there was reason
to fear that the roads, which were already deep in mud,
would soon be in such a state that no wheeled carriage
could be dragged through them. The King determined
to raise the siege, and to move his troops to a healthier
region. He had in truth staid long enough : for it was
with great difficulty that his guns and waggons were
tugged away by long teams of oxen.*
The history of the first siege of Limerick bears, in
some respects, a remarkable analogy to the history of
the siege of Londonderry. The southern city was, like
the northern city, the last asylum of a Church and of a
nation. Both places were crowded by fugitives from
all parts of Ireland. Both places appeared to men who
had made a regular study of the art of war incapable
♦ Story ; William to Waldeck, " The rain which had already fallen
Sept. 22. 1690 ; London Gazette, had softened the ways. . • This was
Sept. 4. Berwick asserts that when one main reason for raising the siege:
the siege was raised not a drop of for, if we had not, granting the
rain had fallen during a months that weather to continue bad, we must
none fell during the following three either have taken the town, or of
weeks, and that VTilliam pretended necessity have lost our cannon."
that the weather was wet merely to Duraont, another eyewitness, says
hide the shame of his defeat Story, that before the siege was raised the
who was on the spot, says, " It was rains had been most violent ; that
cloudy all about, and rained very fast, the Shannon was swollen ; that the
80 that every body began to dread earth was soaked ; that the horses
the conaequencei of it;*' and again, could not keep their feet.
z z 2
676 msTOBY OF England.
CHAP, of resisting an enemy. Both were, in the moment of
,^^^' extreme danger, abandoned by those conmianders who
1690. should have defended them. Lauzun and Tjrconnel
deserted Limerick as Cunningham and Lundy had
deserted Londonderry. In both cases, religioos and
patriotic enthusiasm struggled unassisted against great
odds; and, in both cases, religious and patriotic enthu-
siasm did what veteran warriors had pronounced it
absurd to attempt.
TyTconnei It was with uo pleasurable emotions that Lauzun and
can go*to Tyrconnel learned at Galway the fortunate issue of the
France. conflict in which they had refused to take a part. They
were weary of Ireland : they were apprehensive that
their conduct might be unfavourably represented in
France: they therefore determined to be beforehand
with their accusers, and took ship together for the Con-
tinent.
Tyrconnel, before he departed, delegated his civil
authority to one council, and his military authority to
another. The young Duke of Berwick was declared
Commander in Chief ; but this dignity was merely no-
minal. Sarsfield, undoubtedly the first of Irish soldiers,
was placed last in the list of the councillors to whom
the conduct of the war was entrusted ; and some be-
lieved that he would not have been in the list at all,
had not the Viceroy feared that the omission of so po-
pular a name might produce a mutiny.
William William meanwhile had reached Waterford, and had
EngiMd? sailed thence for England. Before he embarked, he en-
trusted the government of Ireland to three Lords Jus-
tices. Henry Sidney, now Viscount Sidney, stood first
in the conmiission ; and with him were joined Coningsby
and Sir Charles Porter. Porter had formerly held the
Great Seal of the kingdom, had, merely because he was
a Protestant, been deprived of it by James, and had
now received it again from the hand of William.
Beception • On the sixth of September the King, after a voyage of
in England.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 677
twenty four hours, landed at Bristol. Thence he tra- chap.
veiled to London, stopping by the road at the mansions ^^^
of some great lords; and it was remarked that all those 1690.
who were thus honoured were Tories. He was enter- ?f J^»li»"?
tained one day at Badminton by the Duke of Beaufort,
who was supposed to have brought himself with great
difficulty to take the oaths, and on a subsequent day at
a large house near Marlborough, which, in our own time,
before the great revolution produced by railways, was
renowned as one of the best inns in England, but which,
in the seventeenth century, was a seat of the Duke of
Somerset. William was every where received with
marks of respect and joy. His campaign indeed had
not ended quite so prosperously as it had begun ; but
on the whole his success had been great beyond ex-
pectation, and had fully vindicated the wisdom of his
resolution to command his army in person. The sack
of Teignmouth too was fresh in the minds of English-
men, and had for a time reconciled all but the most
fanatical Jacobites to each other and to the throne.
The magistracy and clergy of the capital repaired to
Kensington with thanks and congratulations. The
people rang bells and kindled bonfires. For the Pope,
whom good Protestants had been accustomed to im-
molate, the French King was on this occasion substi-
tuted, probably by way of retaliation for the insults
which had been offered to the effigy of William by the
Parisian populace. A waxen figure, which was doubt-
less a hideous caricature of the most graceful and ma-
jestic of princes, was dragged about Westminster in a
chariot. Above was inscribed, in large letters, " Lewis
the greatest tyrant of fourteen." After the procession,
the image was conmiitted to the flames, amidst loud
huzzas, in the middle of Covent Garden.*
* London Gazette^ Sq>traiber 11. ing of Covent Garden as it appeared
I69O; Narcissus Luttrell's Diary, on this night.
I have seen a contemporary engrav-
XX 3
678 HISTORY OF ENGLASTD.
CHAP. When William arrived in London, the expedition
^^^ destined for Cork was ready to sail from Portsmouth,
1690. and Mariborough had been some time on board waiting
Expedition fop g, fair wind. He was accompanied by Grafton.
South of This young man had been, immediately after the depar-
ireiand. ^^^^ ^£ jj^^j^^g^ g^nd while the throne was still vacant,
named by William Colonel of the First Regiment of Foot
Guards. The Revolution had scarcely been consum-
mated, when signs of disaflfection began to appear in
that regiment, the most important, both because of its
peculiar duties and because of its numerical strength,
of all the regiments in the army. It was thought that
the Colonel had not put this bad spirit down with a
sufficiently firm hand. He was known not to be per-
fectly satisfied with the new arrangement : he had
voted for a Regency; and it was rumoured, perhaps
without reason, that he had dealings with Saint Ger-
mains. The honourable and lucrative command to
which he had just been appointed was taken from him.*
Though severely mortified, he behaved like a man of
sense and spirit. Bent on proving that he had been
wrongfully suspected, and animated by an honourable
ambition to distinguish himself in his profession, he
obtained permission to serve as a volunteer under Mari-
borough in Ireland.
At length, on the eighteenth of September, the wind
changed. The fleet stood out to sea, and on the twenty
first appeared before the harbour of Cork. The troops
landed, and were speedily joined by the Duke of Wir-
temberg, with several regiments, Dutch, Danish, and
French, detached from the army which had lately be-
sieged Limerick. The Duke immediately put forward
a claim which, if the English general had not been a
man of excellent judgment and temper, might have been
fatal to the expedition. His Highness contended that,
* Van Citters to the Sutes General, March ^§. I689.
WILLIAM AND BfABT. 679
as a prince of a sovereign house, he was entitled to chap.
command in chief. Mariborough cabnly and politely ^^^
showed that the pretence was unreasonable. A dispute 1690.
followed, in which it is said that the German behaved
with rudeness, and the Englishman with that gentle
firmness to which, more perhaps than even to his great
abilities, he owed his success in life. At length a Hu-
guenot officer suggested a compromise. Marlborough
consented to waive part of his rights, and to allow pre-
cedence to the Duke on the alternate days. The first
morning on which Marlborough had the command, he
gave the word " Wirt^mberg." The Duke's heart was
won by this compliment ; and on the next day he gave
the word " Marlborough."
But, whoever might give the word, genius asserted its Marl-
indefeasible superiority. Marlborough was on every day ^k^s^cork.
the real general. Cork was vigorously attacked. Outwork
after outwork was rapidly carried. In forty eight hours
all was over. The traces of the short struggle may still
be seen. The old fort, where the Irish made the hardest
fight, lies in ruins. The Doric Cathedral, so ungrace-
fully joined to the ancient tower, stands on the site of
a Gothic edifice which was shattered by the English
cannon. In the neighbouring churchyard is still shown
the spot where stood, during many ages, one of those
round towers which have perplexed antiquaries. This
venerable monument shared the fate of the neighbour-
ing church. On another spot, which is now called the
Mall, and is lined by the stately houses of banking com-
panies, railway companies, and insurance companies,
but which was then a bog known by the name of the
Rape Marshy four English regiments, up to the shoulders
in water, advanced gallantly to the assault. Grafton,
ever foremost in danger, while struggling through the
quagmire, was struck by a shot from the ramparts, and
was carried back dying. The place where he fell, then
about a hundred yards without the city, but now situated
X z 4
680 mSTOBY OE KKGLAND.
CHAP, in the very centre of business and population, is still
^^^ called Grafton Street. The assailants had made their
1690. way through the swamp, and the close fighting was just
about to begin, when a parley was beaten. Articles
of capitulation were speedily adjusted. The garrison,
between four and five thousand fighting men, became
prisoners. Marlborough promised to interc^e with
the King both for them and for the inhabitants, and
to prevent outrage and spoliation. His troops he suc-
ceeded in restraining : but crowds of sailors and camp
followers came into the city through the breach; and
the houses of many Roman Catholics were sacked be-
fore order was restored.
Miri- No commander has ever understood better than
tiSiM ^n- Marlborough how to improve a victory. A few hours
after Cork had fallen, his cavalry were on the road to
Einsale. A trumpeter was sent to summon the place.
The Irish threatened to hang him for bringing such a
message, set fire to the town, and retired into two forts
called the Old and the New. The English horse arrived
just in time to extinguish the flames. Marlborough
speedily followed with his infantry. The Old Fort was
scaled ; and four hundred and fifty men who defended
it were all killed or taken. The New Fort it was neces-
sary to attack in a more methodical way. Batteries were
planted : trenches were opened : mines were sprung : in
a few days the besiegers were masters of the counter-
scarp ; and all was ready for storming, when the gover-
nor offered to capitulate. The garrison, twelve hundred
strong, was suffered to retire to Limerick; but the
conquerors took possession of the stores, which were of
considerable value. Of all the Irish ports Kinsale was
the best situated for intercourse with France. Here,
therefore, was a plenty unknown in any other part of
Munster. At Limerick bread and wine were luxuries
which generals and privy councillors were not always
able to procure. But in the New Fort of Kinsale Marl-
WILLIAM AND MABY. 681
borough found a thousand barrels of wheat and eighty chap.
pipes of claret. ^^^-
His success had been complete and rapid; and indeed, 1690.
had it not been rapid, it would not have been complete.
His campaign, short as it was, had been long enough
to allow time for the deadly work which, in that age,
the moist earth and air of Ireland seldom failed, in
the autumnal season, to perform on English soldiers.
The malady which had thinned the ranks of Schom-
berg's army at Dundalk, and which had compelled
William to make a hasty retreat from the estuary of
the Shannon, had begun to appear at Einsale. Quick
and vigorous as Marlborough's operations were, he lost
a much greater number of men by disease than by the
fire of the enemy. He presented himself at Kensington
only five weeks after he had sailed from Portsmouth,
and was most graciously received. " No officer living,"
said William, "who has seen so little service as my
Lord Marlborough, is so fit for great commands." *
In Scotland, as in Ireland, the aspect of things had, Affairs of
during this memorable summer, changed greatly for ^°'**°^
the better. That club of discontented Whigs which
had, in the preceding year, ruled the Parliament, brow-
beaten the ministers, refused the supplies and stopped
the signet, had sunk under general contempt, and had
at length ceased to exist. There was harmony between
the Sovereign and the Estates ; and the long contest
between two forms of ecclesiastical government had
been terminated in the only way compatible with the
peace and prosperity of the country.
This happy turn in affairs is to be chiefly ascribed intrigues
to the errors of the perfidious, turbulent and revenge- ^mei^'
ful Montgomery. Some weeks after the close of that J'^^ ****
le
Jacobites.
* As to Marlborough's expedition^ I69O ; Monthly Mercury for Not.
see Story's Impartial History; the I69O; History of King William^
Life of James, ii. 419, 420. ; Lon- 1702 ; Burnet, IL 60. ; the Life of
don Gaiette, Oct. 6. 13. I6. 27* 30. JoMph Pike, a Quaker of Cork.
682 niSTOBT OF ENGLAIO).
CHAP, session during which he had exercised a boundless an-
^^^' thority over the Scottish Parliament, he went to Lou-
1690. don with his two principal confederates, the Earl of
Annandale and the Lord Ross. The three had an au-
dience of William, and presented to him a manifesto
setting forth what they demanded for the public. They
would very soon have changed their tone if he would
have granted what they demanded for themselves. But
he resented their conduct deeply, and was determined
not to pay them for annoying him. The reception
which he gave them convinced them that they had no
favour to expect. Montgomery's passions were fierce:
his wants were pressing : he was miserably poor ; and,
if he could not speedUy force himself into a lucrative
office, he would be in danger of rotting in a gaol.
Since his services were not likely to be bought by Wil-
liam, they must be offered to James. A broker was
easily found. Montgomery was an old acquaintance
of Ferguson. The two traitors soon understood each
other. They were kindred spirits, differing widely in
intellectual power, but equally vain, restless, false and
malevolent. Montgomery was introduced to Neville
Payne, one of the most adroit and resolute agents of
the exiled family. Payne had been long well known
about town as a dabbler in poetry and politics. He had
been an intimate friend of the indiscreet and unfortu-
nate Coleman, and had been committed to Newgate as
an accomplice in the Popish plot. His moral character
had not stood high : but he soon had an opportunity of
proving that he possessed courage and fidelity worthy
of a better cause than that of James and of a better
associate than Montgomery.
The negotiation speedily ended in a treaty of alliance.
Payne confidently promised Montgomery, not merely
pardon, but riches, power and dignity. Montgomery as
confidently undertook to induce the Parliament of Scot-
land to recall the rightful King. Ross and Annandale
WILLIAM AND MABY. 683
readily agreed to whatever their able and active col- chap.
league proposed. An adventurer, who was sometimes ^^^
called Simpson and sometimes Jones, who was perfectly 1690.
willing to serve or to betray any government for hire,
and who received wages at once from Portland and
from Neville Payne, undertook to carry the offers of the
Club to James. Montgomery and his two noble ac-
complices returned to Edinburgh, and there proceeded
to form a coalition with their old enemies, the defenders
of prelacy and of arbitrary power.*
The Scottish opposition, strangely made up of two War in the
factions, one zealous for bishops, the other zealous for ^*8^*^^*-
synods, one hostile to all liberty, the other impatient
of all government, flattered itsetf during a short time
with hopes that the civil war would break out in the
Highlands with redoubled fury. But those hopes were
disappointed. In the spring of 1690 an officer named
Buchan arrived in Lochaber from Ireland. He bore
a commission which appointed him general in chief
of all the forces which were in arms for King James
throughout the kingdom of Scotland. Cannon, who
had, since the death of Dundee, held the first post and
had proved himself unfit for it, became second in com-
mand. Little however was gained by the change. It
was no easy matter to induce the Gaelic princes to
renew the war. Indeed, but for the influence and elo-
quence of Lochiel, not a sword would have been drawn
for the House of Stuart. He, with some difficulty,
persuaded the chieftains, who had, in the preceding
year, fought at Killiecrankie, to come to a resolution
that, before the end of the sunmier, they would muster
all their followers and march into the Lowlands. In
the mean time twelve hundred mountaineers of different
tribes were placed under the orders of Buchan, who
* Balcarras; Annandale's Con- Payne, see the Second Modest In-
fesrion in the Leven and Melville quiry into the Canae of the present
Papers; Bnmet, ii. 85. As to Disasters, I69O.
684 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, undeptook, with this force, to keep the English garri-
^^^ sons in constant alarm by feints and incursions, till the
1690. season for more important operations should arrive.
He accordingly marched into Strathspey. But all his
plans were speedily disconcerted by the boldness and
dexterity of Sir Thomas Livingstone, who held Inver-
ness for King William. Livingstone, guided and as-
sisted by the Grants, who were firmly attached to the
new government, came, with a strong body of cavalry
and dragoons, by forced marches and through arduous
defiles, to the place where the Jacobites had taken up
their quarters. He reached the camp fires at dead of
night. The first alarm was given by the rush of the
horses over the terrified sentinels into the midst of
the crowd of Celts who lay sleeping in their plaids.
Buchan* escaped bareheaded and without his sword.
Cannon ran away in his shirt. The conquerors lost
not a man. Four hundred Highlanders were killed or
taken. The rest fled to their hiUs and mists.*
This event put an end to all thoughts of civil war.
The gathering which had been planned for the siunmer
never took place. Lochiel, even if he had been will-
ing, was not able to sustain any longer the falling
cause. He had been laid on his bed by a mishap which
would alone sufiice to show how little could be effected
by a confederacy of the petty kings of the mountains.
At a consultation of the Jacobite leaders, a gentleman
from the Lowlands spoke with severity of those syco-
phants who had changed their religion to curry favour
with King James. Glengarry was one of those people
who think it dignified to suppose that every body is
always insulting them. He took it into his head that
some allusion to himself was meant. " I am as good a
Protestant as you ;" he cried, and added a word not to
^Balcarras; Mackay*B Memoirs; port, dated May 1.; London Ga-
History of the late Revolution in zette. May 12. I69O.
Scotland, I69O; Livingstone's Re-
WILLIAM AND BIABY, 685
be patiently borne by a man of spirit. In a moment chap.
both swords were out. Lochiel thrust himself between ^^^
the combatants, and, while forcing them asunder, re- 1690.
ceived a wound which was at first believed to be
mortal.*
So eflfectually had the spirit of the disaffected clans Fort wii-
been cowed that Mackay marched unresisted irom ^•™^^*-
Perth into Lochaber, fixed his head quarters at Inver-
lochy, and proceeded to execute his favourite design of
erecting at that place a fortress which might overawe
the mutinous Camerons and Macdonalds. In a few
days the walls were raised : the ditches were sunk : the
palisades were fixed : demiculverins from a ship of war
were ranged along the parapets; and the general de-
parted, leaving an officer named Hill in command of a
sufficient garrison. Within the defences there was
no want of oatmeal, red herrings, and beef; and there
was rather a superabundance of brandy. The new
stronghold, which, hastily and rudely as it had been
constructed, seemed doubtless to the people of the
neighbourhood the most stupendous work that power
and science united had ever produced, was named Fort
William in honour of the King.f
By this time the Scottish Parliament had reassembled Meeting or
at Edinburgh. William had found it no easy matter ^^ fturl
to decide what course should be taken with that ca- ii«ment
pricious and unruly body. The English Commons had
sometimes put him out of temper. Yet they had
granted him millions, and had never asked from him
such concessions as had been imperiously demanded by
the Scottish legislature, which could give him little and
had given him nothing. The English statesmen with
* History of the late ReTolution July 17- 21. As to Inverlocby, see
in Scotland, I69O. among the CuUoden papers, a plan
f Mackay *s Memoirs and Letters for preserving the peace of the High-
to Hamilton of June 20. and 24. lands, drawn up^ at this time^ by the
I69O; Colonel Hill to Melville, father of President Forbes.
July 10. 26. ; London Gazette,
686 msTOBY OF i^qland*
CHAP, whom he had to deal did not generally stand or desenre
^^^' to stand high in his esteem. Yet few of them were so
1690. utterly false and shameless as the leading Scottish poli-
ticians. Hamilton was, in morality and honour, rather
above than below his fellows ; and even Hamilton was
fickle, false and greedy. "I wish to heaven^" Wil-
liam was once provoked into exclaiming, " that Scot-
land were a thousand miles off, and that the Duke of
Hamilton were King of it. Then I should be rid of
them both."
Mdviiie After much deliberation WiUiam determined to send
c^mi^?^ Melville down to Edinburgh as Lord High Ck>mmis-
Bioner. sioncr. Mclville was not a great statesman: he was
not a great orator : he did not look or move like the
representative of royalty : his character was not (rf
more than standard purity; and the standard of purity
among Scottish senators was not high : but he was by
no means deficient in prudence or temper ; and he
succeeded, on the whole, better than a man of much
higher qualities might have done.
The go- During the first days of the Session, the friends of
^tobs^a* the government desponded, and the chiefs of the oppo-
m^^^o^ity. sition Were sanguine. Montgomery's head, though by
no means a weak one, had been turned by the triumphs
of the preceding year. He believed that his intrigues
and his rhetoric had completely subjugated the Estates.
It seemed to him impossible that, having exercised a
.boundless empire in the Parliament House when the
Jacobites were absent, he should be defeated when they
were present, and ready to support whatever he pro-
posed. He had not indeed found it easy to prevail on
them to attend: for they could not take their seats
without taking the oaths. A few of them had some
slight scruple of conscience about forswearing them-
selves ; and many, who did not know what a scruple of
conscience meant, were apprehensive that they might
ofiend the rightful King by vowing fealty to the actual
WILLIAM AND MARY. 687
King. Some Lords, however, who were supposed to be chap.
in the confidence of James, asserted that, to their know- L
ledge, he wished his friends to peijure themselves; and ^^O^.
this assertion induced most of the Jacobites, with Bal-
carras at their head, to be guilty of perfidy aggravated
by impiety.*
It soon appeared, however, that Montgomery's faction,
even with this reinforcement, was no longer a majority
of the legislature. For every supporter that he had
gained he had lost two. He had committed an error
which has more than once, in British history, been fatal
to great parliamentary leaders. He had imagined that,
as soon as he chose to coalesce with those to whom he
had recently been opposed, all his followers would imi-
tate his example. He soon found that it was much
easier to inflame animosities than to appease them. The
great body of Whigs and Presbyterians shrank from the
fellowship of the Jacobites. Some waverers were pur-
chased by the government; nor was the purchase ex-
pensive ; for a sum which would hardly be missed in the
English Treasury was immense in the estimation of the
needy barons of the North.f Thus the scale was turned ;
and, in the Scottish Parliaments of that age, the turn
of the scale was every thing : the tendency of majorities
was always to increase, the tendency of minorities to
diminish.
The first question on which a vote was taken related
to the election for a borough. The ministers carried
their point by six voices. J In an instant every thing was
changed : the spell was broken : the Club, from being
a bugbear, became a laughingstock : the timid and the
venal passed over in crowds from the weaker to the
stronger side. It was in vain that the opposition at-
tempted to revive the disputes of the preceding year.
* Balcsrras. Leven and Melville Papers.
I See the instructions to the X Balcarras.
Lord High Commissioner in the
688 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP. The King had wisely authorised Melville to give np the
^^^ Committee of Articles, The Estates, on the other hand,
1690. showed no disposition to pass another Act of Incapaci-
tation, to censure the government for opening the Goorts
of Justice, or to question the right of the Sovereign to
name the Judges. An extraordinary supply was voted,
small, according to the notions of Enghsh financiers,
but large for the means of Scotland. The stun granted
was a hundred and sixty two thousand pounds sterling,
to be raised in the course of four years.*
The Jacobites, who found that they had forsworn
themselves to no purpose, sate, bowed down by shame
and writhing with vexation, while Montgomery, who
had deceived himself and them, and who, in his rage,
had utterly lost, not indeed his parts and his fluency,
but all decorum and seUcommand, scolded like a wa-
terman on the Thames, and was answered with equal
asperity and even more than equal ability by Sir John
Dalrymple.f
Ecciesias- The most important acts of this Session were those
UufooT^ which fixed the ecclesiastical constitution of Scotland.
By the Claim of Right it had been declared that the
authority of Bishops was an insupportable grievance;
and William, by accepting the Crown, had bound him-
self not to uphold an institution condemned by the very
instrument on which his title to the Crown depended
But the Claim of Right had not defined the form of
Church government which was to be substituted for
episcopacy; and, during the stormy Session held in the
summer of 1689, the violence of the Club had made le-
gislation impossible. During many months therefore
every tiling had been in confusion. One polity had been
pulled down ; and no other polity had been set up. In
the Western Lowlands, the beneficed clergy had been
so effectually rabbled, that scarcely one of them had re-
mained at his post. In Berwickshire, the three Lothians
♦ Act. Pari. June 7. I69O. f Balcamt.
WILLIAM AND MARY, 689
and Stirlingshire, most of the curates had been removed chap.
by the Privy Council for not obeying that vote of the ^^^'
Convention which had directed all ministers of parishes, i^90.
on pain of deprivation, to proclaim William and Mary
King and Queen of Scotland. Thus, throughout a
great part of the realm, there was no public worship
except what was performed by Presbyterian divines,
who sometimes officiated in tents, and sometimes, with-
out any legal right, took possession of the churches.
But there were large districts, especially on the north
of the Tay, where the people had no strong feeling
against episcopacy ; and there were many priests who
were not disposed to los^ their manses and stipends for
the sake of King James. Hundreds of the old curates,
therefore, having been neither hunted by the populace
nor deposed by the Council, stiU performed their spiri-
tual functions. Every minister was, during this time of
transition, free to conduct the service and to administer
the sacraments as he thought fit. There was no con-
trolling authority. The legislature had taken away
the jurisdiction of Bishops, and had not established the
jurisdiction of Synods.*
To put an end to this anarchy was one of the first
duties of the Parliament. Melville had, with the pow-
erful assistance of Carstairs, obtained, in spite of the
remonstrances of English Tories, authority to assent
to such ecclesiastical arrangements as might satisfy the
Scottish nation. One of the first laws which the Lord
Commissioner touched with the sceptre repealed the
Act of Supremacy. He next gave the royal assent to
a law enacting that those Presbyterian divines who had
been pastors of parishes in the days of the Covenant,
and had, after the Restoration, been ejected for refiising
to acknowledge episcopal authority, should be restored.
The number of those pastors had originally been about
* Faithful Contendings Dis- flicted Episcoptd Clergy in Scotland,
played; Case of the present Af- I69O.
VOL. III. Y Y
690 HISTORY OF ENGLAim.
CHAP, three hundred and fifty : but not more than sixty were
J^ stm living.*
1690. The Estates then proceeded to fix the national creed.
The Confession of Faith drawn up by the Assembly of
Divines at Westminster, the Longer and Shorter Ca-
techism, and the Directory, were considered by every
good Presbyterian as the standards of orthodoxy; and
it was hoped that the legislature would recognise them
as such.f This hope, however, was in part disappointed.
The Confession was read at length, amidst much yawn-
ing, and adopted without alteration. But, when it was
proposed that the Catechisms and the Directory should
be taken into consideration, the ill humour of the au-
dience broke forth into murmurs. For that love of lone:
sermons which was strong in the Scottish commonalty
was not shared by the Scottish aristocracy. The Par-
liament had already been listening during three hours
to dry theology, and was not inclined to hear any thing
more about original sin and election. The Duke of Ha-
milton said that the Estates had already done all that
was essential. They had given their sanction to a digest
of the great principles of Christianity. The rest might
well be left to the Church. The weary majority eagerly
assented, in spite of the muttering of some zealous Pres-
byterian ministers who had been admitted to hear the
debate, and who could sometimes hardly restrain them-
selves from taking part in it.J
The memorable law which fixed the ecclesiastical
constitution of Scotland was brought in by the Earl of
Sutherland. By this law the synodical polity was re-
established. The rule of the Church was entrusted to
♦ Act. Pari. April 25. I69O. } See the Account of the Ute
■f See the Humble Address of the Establishment of Presbyterian Go-
Presbyterian Ministers and Pro- vernment by the Parliament of Scot-
fessors of the Church of Scotland to land, Anno I69O. This is an Epl-
His Grace His Majesty's High Com- scopalian narrative. Act. Pari. Miy
missioner and to the Kight Honour- 26. I69O,
able the Estates of Parliament.
WILLIAM AND MARY. 691
the sixty ejected ministers who had just been restored, chap.
and to such other persons, whether ministers or elders, 1
as the Sixty should think fit to admit to a participation i<>90.
of power. The Sixty and their nominees were autho-
rised to visit all the parishes in the kingdom, and to
turn out all ministers who were deficient in abilities,
scandalous in morals, or unsound in faith. Those pa-
rishes which had, during the interregnum, been de-
serted by their pastors, or, in plain words, those parishes
of which the pastors had been rabbled, were declared
vacant.*
To the clause which reestablished synodical govern-
ment no serious opposition appears to have been made.
But three days were spent in discussing the question
whether the Sovereign should have power to convoke
and to dissolve ecclesiastical assemblies ; and the point
was at last left in dangerous ambiguity. Some other
clauses were long and vehemently debated. It was
said that the immense power given to the Sixty was in-
compatible with the fundamental principle of the polity
which the Estates were about to set up. That principle
was that all presbyters were equal, and that there ought
to be no order of ministers of religion superior to the
order of presbyters. What did it matter whether the
Sixty were caUed prelates or not, if they were to lord it
with more than prelatical authority over God's heritage?
To the argument that the proposed arrangement was,
in the very peculiar circumstances of the Church, the
most convenient that could be made, the objectors re-
plied that such reasoning might suit the mouth of an
Erastian, but that all orthodox Presbyterians held the
parity of ministers to be ordained by Christ, and that,
where Christ had spoken, Christians were not at liberty
to consider what was convenient.f
♦ Act Pari. June 7- I69O. in a Letter from a Person in Edin-
f An Historical Relation of the burgh to his Friend in London,
late Presbyterian General Assembly London^ licensed April 20. l691.
Y Y 2
692 HISTOBT OF BNGLAND.
CHAP. With much greater warmth and much stronger reason
^^^' the minority attacked the clause which sanctioned the
1690. lawless acts of the Western fanatics. Surely, it was
said, a rabbled curate might weU be left to the severe
scrutiny of the sixty Inquisitors. If he was deficient
in parts or learning, if he was loose in life, if he was
heterodox in doctrine, those stem judges would not fail
to detect and to depose him. They would probably
think a game at bowls, a prayer borrowed from the
English Liturgy, or a sermon in which the slightest
taint of Arminianism could be discovered, a sufficient
reason for pronouncing his benefice vacant. Was it not
monstrous, after constituting a tribunal from which he
could scarcely hope for bare justice, to condemn him
without allowing him to appear even before that tri-
bunal, to condemn him without a trial, to condenm him
without an accusation ? Did ever any grave senate,
since the beginning of the world, treat a man as a
criminal merely because he had been robbed, pelted,
hustled, dragged through snow and mire, and threat-
ened with death if he returned to the house which was
his by law ? The Duke of Hamilton, glad to have so
good an opportunity of attacking the new Lord Com-
missioner, spoke with great vehemence against this
odious clause. We are told that no attempt was made
to answer him ; and, though those who tell us so were
zealous Episcopalians, we may easily believe their re-
port : for what answer was it possible to return ?
Melville, on whom the chief responsibility lay, sate on
the throne in profound silence through the whole of
this tempestuous debate. It is probable that his con-
duct was determined by considerations which prudence
and shame prevented him from explaining. The state
of the southwestern shires was such that it would have
been impossible to put the rabbled ministers in posses-
sion of their dwellings and churches without emplojdng
a military force, without garrisoning every manse, with-
WILLIAM AND MARY. 693
out placing guards round every pulpit, and without chap.
handing over some ferocious enthusiasts to the Provost L
Marshal ; and it would be no easy task for the govern- ^^•
ment to keep down by the sword at once the Jacobites
of the Highlands and the Covenanters of the Lowlands.
The majority, having made up their minds for reasons
which could not well be produced, became clamorous
for the question. " No more debate," was the cry :
" Wc have heard enough : a vote ! a vote ! " The ques-
tion was put according to the Scottish form, "Approve
or not approve the article ?" Hamilton insisted that
the question should be, "Approve or not approve the
rabbling ?" After much altercation, he was overruled,
and the clause passed. Only fifteen or sixteen members
voted with him. He warmly and loudly exclaimed,
amidst much angry interruption, that he was sorry to
see a Scottish Parliament disgrace itself by such ini-
quity. He then left the house with several of his
friends. It is impossible not to sjnnpathize with the
indignation which he expressed. Yet we ought to re-
member that it is the nature of injustice to generate
injustice. There are wrongs which it is almost impos-
sible to repair without committing other wrongs ; and
such a wrong had been done to the people of Scotland
in the preceding generation. It was because the Par-
liament of the Restoration had legislated in insolent
defiance of the sense of the nation that the Parliament
of the Revolution had to abase itself before the mob.
When Hamilton and his adherents had retired, one
of the preachers who had been admitted to the hall
called out to the members who were near him ; " Fie !
Fie ! Do not lose time. Make haste, and get all over
before he comes back." This advice was taken. Four
or five sturdy Prelatists staid to give a last vote against
Presbytery. Four or five equally sturdy Covenanters
staid to mark their dislike of what seemed to them a
Y Y 3
694 insTORY OF England.
CHAP, compromise between the Lord and Baal. But the Act
1 was passed by an ovenvhehning majority.*
1690. Two supplementary Acts speedily followed. One of
them, now happily repealed, required every officebearer
in every University of Scotland to sign the Confession
of Faith and to give in his adhesion to the new form of
Church govemment.f The other settled the important
and delicate question of patronage. Knox had, in the
First Book of Discipline, asserted the right of every
Christian congregation to choose its own pastor. Mel-
ville had not, in the Second Book of Discipline, gone
quite so far : but he had declared that no pastor could
la^vfully be forced on an unwilling congregation. Pa-
tronage had been abolished by a Covenanted Parliament
in 1649, and restored by a Royalist Parliament in 1661.
What ought to be done in 1690 it was no easy matter
to decide. Scarcely any question seems to have caused
so much anxiety to William. He had, in his private
instructions, given the Lord Commissioner authority to
assent to the abolition of patronage, if nothing else
would satisfy the Estates. But this authority was most
unwillingly given ; and the King hoped that it would
not be used. "It is," he said, "the taking of men's
property." Melville succeeded in effecting a compro-
mise. Patronage was abolished; but it was enacted
that every patron should receive six hundred marks
Scots, equivalent to about thirty five pounds sterling,
as a compensation for his rights. The sum seems ludi-
crously small. Yet, when the nature of the property
and the poverty of the country are considered, it may
be doubted whether a patron would have made much
more by going into the market. The largest sum that
any member ventured to propose was nine hundred
marks, little more than fifty pounds sterling. The
* Account of the late Establish- lan'l, I69O.
ment of the Presbyterian Govern- j Act. Pari. July 4. l6j)0.
nicnt by the Parliament of Scot-
WILLIAM AND MAKT. 695
right of proposing a minister was given to a parochial chap.
council consisting of the Protestant landowners and L
the elders. The congregation might object to the per- 1^90.
son proposed ; and the Presbytery was to judge of the
objections. This arrangement did not give to the peo-
ple all the power to which even the Second Book of
Discipline had declared that they were entitled. But
the odious name of patronage was taken away : it was
probably thought that the elders and landowners of a
parish would seldom persist in nominating a person to
whom the majority of the congregation had strong ob-
jections; and indeed it does not appear that, while the
Act of 1690 continued in force, the peace of the Church
was ever broken by disputes such as produced the
schisms of 1732, of 1756, and of 1843.*
Montgomery had done all in his power to prevent The coa-
the Estates from settling the ecclesiastical polity of {^*°"n^e
the realm. He had incited the zealous Covenanters ciuhand
to demand what he knew that the government would bites ^^
never grant. He had protested against all Erastian- solved.
ism, against all compromise. Dutch Presb)i;erianism,
he said, would not do for Scotland. She must have
again the system of 1649. That system was deduced
from the Word of God : it was the most powerful check
that had ever been devised on the tyranny of wicked
kings; and it ought to be restored without addition or
diminution. His Jacobite allies could not conceal their
disgust and mortification at hearing him hold such
language, and were by no means satisfied with the
explanations which he gave them in private. While
they were wrangling with him on this subject, a mes-
senger arrived at Edinburgh with important despatches
from James and from Mary of Modena. These de-
spatches had been written in the confident expectation
that the large promises of Montgomery would be ful-
♦ Act Pari. July 1 9. IG9O; Lockhart to Melville, April 29. I69O.
Y Y 4
696 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, filled, and that the Scottish Estates would, under his
dexterous management, declare for the rightful Sove-
1690. reign agamst the Usurper. James was so grateful for
the unexpected support of his old enemies, that he en-
tirely forgot the services and disregarded the feelings
of his old friends. The three chiefs of the Club, rebels
and Puritans as they were, had become his favourites.
Annandale was to be a Marquess, Governor of Edin-
burgh Castle, and Lord High Commissioner. Mont-
gomery was to be Earl of Ayr and Secretary of State.
Ross was to be an Earl and to command the guards.
An unprincipled lawyer named James Stewart, who
had been deeply concerned in Argyle's insurrection,
who had changed sides and supported the dispensing
power, who had then changed sides a second time and
concurred in the Revolution, and who had now changed
sides a third time and was scheming to bring about a
Restoration, was to be Lord Advocate. The Privy
Council, the Court of Session, the army, were to be
filled with Whigs. A Council of Five was appointed,
which all loyal subjects were to obey; and in this
Council Annandale, Ross and Montgomery formed the
majority. Mary of Modena informed Montgomery that
five thousand pounds sterling had been remitted to
his order, and that five thousand more would soon
follow. It was impossible that Balcarras and those
who had acted with him should not bitterly resent the
manner in which they were treated. Their names were
not even mentioned. All that they had done and
suffered seemed to have faded from their master's
mind. He had now given them fair notice that, if they
should, at the hazard of their lands and lives, succeed
in restoring him, all that he had to give would be
given to those who had deposed him. They too, when
they read his letters, knew, what he did not know
when the letters were written, that he had been duped
by the confident boasts and promises of the apostate
WILLIAM AND MARY. 697
Whigs. He imagined that the Club was omnipotent chap.
at Edinburgh; and, in truth, the Club had become a ^^'
mere byword of contempt. The Tory Jacobites easily ^690.
found pretexts for refusing to obey the Presbyterian
Jacobites to whom the banished King had delegated
his authority. They complained that Montgomery
had not shown them all the despatches which he had
received. They aflfected to suspect that he had tam-
pered with the seals. He called God Almighty to wit-
ness that the suspicion was unfounded. But oaths
were very naturally regarded as insufficient guarantees
by men who had just been swearing allegiance to a
King against whom they were conspiring. There was
a violent outbreak of passion on both sides : the coa-
lition was dissolved: the papers were flung into the
fire ; and, in a few days, the infamous triumvirs who
had been, in the short space of a year, violent William-
ites and violent Jacobites, became Williamites again,
and attempted to make their peace with the government
by accusing each other.*
Ross was the first who turned informer. After the The chieft
fashion of the school in which he had been bred, he S^t^y^h
committed this base action with all the forms of sanctity. ot**«r.
He pretended to be greatly troubled in mind, sent for
a celebrated Presbyterian minister named Dunlop, and
bemoaned himself piteously : " There is a load on my
conscience : there is a secret which I know that I ought
to disclose: but I cannot bring myself to do it." Dun-
lop prayed long and fervently: Ross groaned and wept:
at last it seemed that heaven had been stormed by the
violence of supplication : the truth came out, and many
lies with it. The divine and the penitent then re-
turned thanks together. Dunlop went with the news to
Melville. Ross set ofl^ for England to make his peace
at court, and performed his journey in safety, though
* Balcarras; Confession of Annandale in the Leyen and Melville
Papers.
698 rasTORY OF England.
CHAP, some of his accomplices, who had heard of his repen-
^^^' tance, but had been little edified by it, had laid plans
1690. for cutting his throat by the way. At London he pro-
tested, on his honour and on the word of a gentleman,
that he had been drawn in, that he had always disliked
the plot, and that Montgomery and Ferguson were the
real criminals.*
Dunlop was, in the mean time, magnif3dng, wherever
he went, the divine goodness which had, by so humble
an instrument as himself, brought a noble person bad^
to the right path. Montgomery no sooner heard of this
wonderful work of grace than he too began to experience
compunction. He went to Melville, made a confession not
exactly coinciding with Ross's, and obtained a pass for
England. William was then in Ireland; and Mary was
governing in his stead. At her feet Montgomery threw
himself. He tried to move her pity by speaking of his
broken fortunes, and to ingratiate himself with her by
praising her sweet and affuble manners. He gave up to
her the names of his fellow plotters. He vowed to de-
dicate his whole life to her service, if she would obtain
for him some place which might enable him to subsist
with decency. She was so much touched by his sup-
plications and flatteries that she recommended him to
her husband's favour; but the just distrust and abhor-
rence with which William regarded Montgomery were
not to be overcome.f
Before the traitor had been admitted to Mary's pre-
sence, he had obtained a promise that he should be
allowed to depart in safety. The promise was kept.
During some months, he lay hid in London, and con-
trived to carry on a negotiation with the government.
He offered to be a witness against his accomplices on
♦ Balcarras ; Notes of Ros8*8 Con- her interview with Montgomerr,
fossion in the Leven and Melville printed among the Lcven and Mel-
Papers, ville Papers.
t lialcarras ; Mary's account of
WILLIAM AND MARY, 699
condition of having a good place. William would bid chap.
no higher than a pardon. At length the communica- L
tions were broken off. Montgomery retired for a time ^^o*
to France. He soon returned to London, and passed
the miserable remnant of his life in forming plots which
came to nothing, and in writing libels which are distin-
guished by the grace and vigour of their style from most
of the productions of the Jacobite press.*
Annandale, when he learned that his two accom-
plices had turned approvers, retired to Bath, and pre-
tended to drink the waters. Thence he was soon brought
up to London by a warrant. He acknowledged that he
had been seduced into treason: but he declared that
he had only said Amen to the plans of others, and that
his childlike simplicity had been imposed on by Mont-
gomery, that worst, that falsest, that most unquiet of
human beings. The noble penitent then proceeded to
make atonement for his own crime by criminating other
people, English and Scotch, Whig and Tory, guilty and
innocent. Some he accused on his own knowledge, and
some on mere hearsay. Among those whom he accused
on his own knowledge was Neville Payne, who had not,
it should seem, been mentioned either by Ross or by
Montgomery.!
Payne, pursued by messengers and warrants, was so
ill advised as to take refuge in Scotland. Had he re-
mained in England he would have been safe : for, though
the moral proofs of his guilt were complete, there was
not such legal evidence as would have satisfied a jury
that he had committed high treason : he could not be
subjected to torture in order to force him to furnish
evidence against himself; nor could he be long confined
without being brought to trial. But the moment that
♦ Compare Balcarras with Bur- mery's manner,
net, ii. G2. The pamphlet enti- f Balcarras; Anoandale's Con-
tied Great Britain's Just Complaint fcsMon.
is a good apeciroen of Montgo-
700 HISTORY OP ENGLAND.
CHAP, he passed the border he was at the mercy of the go-
^^^' vemment of which he was the deadly foe. The Claim of
1^. Right had recognised torture as, in cases like his, a le-
gitimate mode of obtaining information ; and no Habeas
Corpus Act secured him against a long detention. The
unhappy man was arrested, carried to Edinburgh, and
brought before the Privy Council. The general notion
was that he was a knave and a coward, and that the
first sight of the boots and thumbscrews would bring
out all the guilty secrets with which he had been en-
trusted. But Payne had a far braver spirit than those
highborn plotters with whom it was his misfortune to
have been connected. Twice he was subjected to fright-
fiil torments ; but not a word inculpating himself or any
other person could be wrung out of him. Some coun-
cillors left the board in horror. But the pious Crawford
presided. He was not much troubled with the weakness
of compassion where an Amalekite was concerned, and
forced the executioner to hammer in wedge after wedge
between the knees of the prisoner till the pain was as
great as the human frame can sustain without dissohi-
tion. Payne was then carried to the Castle of Edin-
burgh, where he long remained, utterly forgotten, as he
touchingly complained, by those for whose sake he had
endured more than the bitterness of death. Yet no in-
gratitude could damp the ardour of his fanatical loyalty ;
and he continued, year after year, in his cell, to plan
insurrections and invasions.*
General Before Payne's arrest the Esta,tes had been adjourned
cenccTtn after a Session as important as any that had ever been
the new \^qI^ [^i Scotland. The nation ffenerally acquiesce<l in
ecclesias- , , , ,^ •/ i
ticai po- the new ecclesiastical constitution. The indifferent, a
large portion of every society, were glad that the anarchy
was over, and conformed to the Presbyterian Church
• Burnet, ii. 62. ; Lockhart to the Leven and Melville Papers ;
Melville, Aug 30. 1 6'yO ; and Craw- Neville Paynes letter of Dec. S.
ford to Melville, Dec. 11. I69O, in I692, printed in idQS.
lily,
WILLIAM AND MART. 701
as they had conformed to the Episcopal Church. To chap.
the moderate Presbyterians the settlement which had 1
been made was on the whole satisfactory. Most of the 1^.90.
strict Presbyterians brought themselves to accept it
under protest, as a large instalment of what was due.
They missed indeed what they considered as the perfect
beauty and symmetry of that Church which had, forty
years before, been the glory of Scotland. But, though
the second temple was not equal to the first, the chosen
people might well rejoice to think that they were, after
a long captivity in Babylon, suffered to rebuild, though
imperfectly, the House of God on the old foundations;
nor could it misbecome them to feel for the latitudina-
rian William a grateful affection such as the restored
Jews had felt for the heathen Cyrus.
There were however two parties which regarded the com-
settlement of 1690 with implacable detestation. Those g^'E^i-'
Scotchmen who were Episcopalians on conviction and scoiwauins.
with fervour appear to have been few : but among them
were some persons superior, not perhaps in natural
parts, but in learning, in taste, and in the art of com-
position, to the theologians of the sect which had now
become dominant. It might not have been safe for the
ejected Curates and Professors to give vent in their
own country to the anger which they felt. But the
English press was open to them ; and they were sure
of the approbation of a large part of the English people.
During several years they continued to torment their
enemies and to amuse the public with a succession of
ingenious and spirited pamphlets. In some of these
works the hardships suffered by the rabbled priests
of the western shires are set forth with a skill which
irresistibly moves pity and indignation. In others, the
cruelty with which the Covenanters had been treated
during the reigns of the last two kings of the House
of Stuart is extenuated by every artifice of sophistry.
There is much joking on the bad Latin which some
702 UISTOBY 05" ENGLAND.
CHAP. Presbyterian teachers had uttered whUe seated in aca-
XVI
L demic chairs lately occupied by great scholars. Much was
1690. said about the ignorant contempt which the victorious
barbarians professed for science and literature. They
were accused of anathematizing the modem systems of
natural philosophy as damnable heresies, of condemning
geometry as a souldestroying pursuit, of discouraging
even the study of those tongues in which the sacred
books were written. Learning, it was said, would
soon be extinct in Scotland. The Universities, under
their new rulers, were languishing and must soon
perish. The booksellers had been half ruined: they
found that the whole profit of their business would not
pay the rent of their shops, and were preparing to
emigrate to some country where letters were held in
esteem by those whose office was to instruct the public.
Among the ministers of religion no purchaser of books
was left. The Episcopalian divine was glad to sell for
a morsel of bread whatever part of his library had not
been torn to pieces or burned by the Christmas mobs;
and the only library of a Presbyterian divine consisted of
an explanation of the Apocalypse and a commentary on
the Song of Songs.* The pulpit oratory of the trium-
phant party was an inexhaustible subject of mirth.
One little volume, entitled The Scotch Presbyterian
Eloquence Displayed, had an immense success in the
South among both High Churchmen and scoflfers, and is
not yet quite forgotten. It was indeed a book well
fitted to lie on the hall table of a Squire whose religion
consisted in hating extemporaneous prayer and nasal
psalmody. On a rainy day, when it was impossible to
hunt or shoot, neither the card table nor the back-
gammon board would have been, in the intervals of the
flagon and the pasty, so agreeable a resource. No-
* Historical Relation of the late as it was lately practised against tl e
Presbyterian General Assembly, Professors of the College of Edin-
1691 ; The Presbyterian Inquisition burgh, 169I,
WILLIAM AND MARY. 703
where else, perhaps, can be found, in so small a compass, chap.
so large a collection of ludicrous quotations and anec-
dotes. Some grave men, however, who bore no love i^90.
to the Calvinistic doctrine or discipline, shook their
heads over this lively jest book, and hinted their opi-
nion that the writer, while holding up to derision the
absurd rhetoric by which coarseminded and ignorant
men tried to illustrate dark questions of theology and
to excite devotional feeling among the populace, had
sometimes forgotten the reverence due to sacred things.
The effect which tracts of this sort produced on the
public mind of England could not be fully discerned
while England and Scotland were independent of each
other, but manifested itself, very soon after the union
of the kingdoms, in a way which we still have reason,
and which our posterity will probably long have reason,
to lament.
The extreme Presbyterians were as much out of The Pret-
humour as the extreme Prelatists, and were as little noJijurora.
inclined as the extreme Prelatists to take the oath of
allegiance to William and Mary. Indeed, though the
Jacobite nonjuror and the Cameronian nonjuror were
diametrically opposed to each other in opinion, though
they regarded each other with mortal aversion, though
neither of them would have had any scruple about
persecuting the other, they had much in common.
They were perhaps the two most remarkable specimens
that the world could show of perverse absurdity. Each
of them considered his darling form of ecclesiastical
polity, not as a means but as an end, as the one thing
needful, as the quintessence of the Christian religion.
Each of them childishly fancied that he had found a
theory of civil government in his Bible. Neither shrank
from the frightful consequences to which his theory
led. To all objections both had one answer, — Thus
saith the Lord. Both agreed in boasting that the
arguments wliich to atheistical politicians seemed un-
704 HISTORY OP ENGLAND.
CHAP, answerable presented no difficulty to the Saint. It
L might be perfectly true that, by relaxing the rigour of
169a iiis principles, he might save his country from slavery,
anarchy, universal ruin. But his business was not to
save his country, but to save his soul. He obeyed the
conmiands of God, and left the event to God. One of
the two fanatical sects held that, to the end of time, the
nation would be bound to obey the heir of the Stuarts:
the other held that, to the end of time, the nation
would be bound by the Solemn League and Covenant;
and thus both agreed in regarding the new Sovereigns
as usurpers.
The Presbyterian nonjurors have scarcely been heard
of out of Scotland ; and perhaps it may not now be
generally known, even in Scotland, how long they
continued to form a distinct class. They held that their
country was under a precontract to the Most High,
and could never, while the world lasted, enter into any
engagement inconsistent with that precontract. An
Erastian, a latitudinarian, a man who knelt to receive
the bread and wine from the hands of bishops, and
who bore, though not very patiently, to hear anthems
chaunted by choristers in white vestments, could not be
King of a covenanted kingdom. William had moreover
forfeited all claim to the crown by committing that sin
for which, in the old time, a dynasty pretematurally
appointed had been pretematurally deposed. He had
connived at the escape of his father in law, that ido-
later, that murderer, that man of Belial, who ought
to have been hewn in pieces before the Lord, like
Agag. Nay, the crime of William had exceeded that
of Saul. Saul had spared only one Amalekite, and had
smitten the rest. What Amalekite had William smit-
ten? The pure Church had been twenty eight years
under persecution. Her children had been imprisoned,
transported, branded, shot, hanged, drowned, tortured.
And yet he who called himself her deliverer had not
WILLIAM AND MABY. 705
suffered her to see her desire upon her enemies.* The chap.
bloody Claverhouse had been graciously received at J-
Saint James's. The bloody Mackenzie had found a ^^^o.
secure and luxurious retreat among the malignants of
Oxford. The younger Dalrymple who had prosecuted
the Saints, the elder Dalrymple who had sate in judg-
ment on the Saints, were great and powerful. It was
said, by careless Gallios, that there was no choice but
between William and James, and that it was wisdom
to choose the less of two evils. Such was indeed the
wisdom of this world. But the wisdom which was from
above taught us that of two things, both of which were
evil in the sight of God, we should choose neither. As
soon as James was restored, it would be a duty to
disown and withstand him. The present duty was to
disown and withstand his son in law. Nothing must
be said, nothing must be done that could be construed
into a recognition of the authority of the man from
Holland. The godly must pay no duties to him, must
hold no offices under him, must receive no wages from
him, must sign no instruments in which he was styled
King. Anne succeeded William; and Anne was desig-
nated, by those who called themselves the remnant of
the true Church, as the pretended Queen, the wicked
woman, the Jezebel. George the First succeeded Anne ;
and George the First was the pretended King, the G«r-
* One of the most curious of the and Princess of Orange being set
many curious papers written by the up as they were, and his pardoning
Coyenanters of that generation is all the murderers of the saints, and
entitled, *' Nathaniel, or the Dying reoeiying all the bloody beasts, sol-
Testimony of John Matthieson in diers, and others, aU these officers
Closebum." Matthieson did not die of their state and army, and all the
till 17099 but hu Testimony was bloody counsellors, dyil and eccle-
written some years earlier, when he siastic ; and his letting slip that son
was in expectation of death. " And of Belial, his father in law, who^
now," he says, ''I, as a d3ring both by all the laws of God and
man, would in a few words tell man, ought to haye died, I knew he
you that are to liye behind me my would do no good to the cause and
thoughts as to the times. When work of God."
I saw, or rather heard, the Prince
VOL. ni. Z Z
706
BISTORT 01* SNGLAHD.
CHAP,
XVI.
l6.qa
man Beast.* George the Second succeeded George the
First : George the Second too was a pretended King,
and was accused of having outdone the wickedness of
his wicked predecessors by passing a law in defiance of
that divine law which ordains that no witch shall be
suffered to live.f George the Third succeeded George
the Second ; and still these men continued, with unabated
stedfastness, though in language less ferocious than
before, to disclaim all allegiance to an uncovenanted
Sovereign.^ So late as the year 1806, they were still
bearing their public testimony against the sin of owning
his government by paying taxes, by taking out excise
licenses, by joining the volunteers, or by labouring on
public works.§ The number of these zealots went on
flattering titles to princes.** • . . .
....'' However, they entertain no
resentment against the person of the
present occupant, nor any of the
good qualities which he possesses.
They sincerely wish that he were
more excellent than external royalty
can make him, that he were adorned
with the image of Christ,*' &c., &c.,
&c. ''But they can by no means
acknowledge him, nor any of the
episcopal persuasion, to be a lawful
king over these covenanted lands."
§ An enthusiast, named George
Cahierwood, in his preface to a
Collection of Dying Testimonies,
published in I8O6, accuses even the
Reformed Presbytery of scandalous
compliances. ** As for the Reformed
Presbytery," he says, •' though they
profess to own the raartyr*s testi-
mony in hairs and hoofs, yet they
have now adopted so many new
distinctions, and given up their old
ones, that diey have made it so evi-
dent that it is neither the mar-
tyr's testimony nor yet the one thtt
that Presbytery adopted at first that
they are now maintaining. When
the Reformed Presbytery was in its
infancy, and had some appearance
* See the Dying Testimony of
Mr. Robert Smith, Student of Di-
vinity, who lived in Douglas Town,
in the Shire of Clydesdale, who died
about two o'clock in the Sabbath
morning, Dec. 13. 1724, aged 58
years ; and the Dying Testimony of
William Wilson, sometime School-
master of Park in the Parish of
Douglas, aged 68, who died May 7-
1757.
"f See the Dying Testimony of
William Wilson, mentioned in the
Jast note. It ought to be remarked
that, on the subject of witchcraft,
the Divines of the Associate Presby-
tery were as absurd as this \H}or crazy
Dominie. See their Act, Declara-
tion, and Testimony, published in
1773 by Adam Gib.
j In the year I79I, Thomas
Henderson of Paisley wrote, in de-
fence of some separatists who called
themselves the Reformed Presbytery,
against a writer who had charged
them with *' disowning the present
excellent sovereign as the lawful
King of Great Biitain." " The Re-
formed Presbytery and their connec-
tions," says Mr. Henderson, "have
not been much accustomed to give
WILLIAM AND MABT. 707
diminishing till at length they were so thinly scattered chap.
over Scotland that they were nowhere numerous enough ^^^'
to have a meeting house, and were known by the name ^690.
of the Nonhearers. They, however, still assembled and
prayed in private dwellings, and still persisted in con-
sidering themselves as the chosen generation, the royal
priesthood, the holy nation, the peculiar people, which,
amidst the common degeneracy, alone preserved the
faith of a better age. It is by no means improbable that
this superstition, the most irrational and the most un-
social into which Protestant Christianity has ever been
corrupted by human prejudices and passions, may still
linger in a few obscure farmhouses.
The King was but half satisfied with the manner in wuiiam
which the ecclesiastical polity of Scotland had been ^tS*^
settled. He thought that the Episcopalians had been «ccie«M-
hardly used ; and he apprehended that they might be amnge-
stiU more hardly used when the new system was fully Ss^lJ^S.
organized. He had been very desirous that the Act
which established the Presbjrterian Church should be
accompanied by an Act allowing persons who were not
members of that Church to hold their own religious
assemblies freely; and he had particularly directed
Melville to look to this.* But some popular preachers
harangued so vehemently at Edinburgh against liberty
of conscience, which they called the mystery of iniqui-
ty, that Melville did not venture to obey his master's
of honesty and faithfulness among since the commencement of the
them, they were hlamed hy all the French war, how many of their own
other parties for using of distinctions members have accepted of places of
tliat no man could justify, i. e. they trust, to be at goTemment*s call, such
would not admit into their com- as bearers of arms, driving of cattle,
munion those that paid the land tax stopping of ways, &c; and what is
or subscribed tacks to do so ; but all their license for trading by sea
now they can admit into their com- or land but a serving under govem-
munions both rulers and members ment?"
who voluntarily pay all taxes and * The King to Melville, May
subscribe tacks." ''It shall be 22. I69O, in the Leven and Mel-
only referred to government's books, viUe Papers.
z z 2
708 HISTOBT OF ENQLAHn).
CHAP, instructions. A draught of a Toleration Act was of-
fered to the Parliament by a private member, but was
.1690. coldly received and suflfered to drop.*
Meeting of William, howcvcr, was fully determined to prevent
laf A»^- the dominant sect fix)m indulging in the luxury of per-
churoh^^f s^^^*^^^ ; ^^^ ^® *^^^ *^ early opportunity of announc-
Scotland, ing his determination. The first General Assembly of
the newly established Church met soon after his return
from Ireland. It was necessary that he should appoint
a Commissioner and send a letter. Some zealous Pres-
byterians hoped that Crawford would be the Commis-
sioner; and the ministers of Edinburgh drew up a
paper in which they very intelligibly hinted that this
was their wish. William, however, selected Lord Car-
michael, a nobleman distinguished by good sense, hu-
manity and moderation, f The royal letter to the
Assembly was eminently wise in substance and im-
pressive in language. " We expect," the King wrote,
"that your management shall be such that we may
have no reason to repent of what we have done. We
never could be of the mind that violence was suited
to the advancing of true religion ; nor do we intend
that our authority shall ever be a tool to the irregular
passions of any party. Moderation is what religion
enjoins, what neighbouring Churches expect from you,
and what we recommend to you." The Sixty and
their associates would probably have been glad to reply
in language resembling that which, as some of them
could well remember, had been held by the clergy to
Charles the Second during his residence in Scotland.
But they had just been informed that there was in
England a strong feeling in favour of the rabbled
curates, and that it would, at such a conjuncture, be
* Account of the Establishment See the Historical Relation of the
of Presbyterian Grovernroent. late Presbyterian General Assembly
^ Carmichaers good qualities are and the Presbyterian Inquisition,
fully admitted by the Episcopalians.
WILLIAM AND MART. 709
madness in the body which represented the Presbyterian chap.
Church to quarrel with the King.* The Ai^mbly ^^^
therefore returned a grateful and respectful answer to 1690.
the royal letter, and assured His Majesty that they
had suflFered too much from oppression ever to be op-
pressors.f
Meanwhile the troops all over the Continent were state of
going into winter quarters. The campaign had every- the o>nU-
where been indecisive. The victory gained by Luxem- "«°^
burg at Fleurus had produced no important effect. On
the Upper Rhine great armies had eyed each other,
month after month, without exchanging a blow. In
Catalonia a few small forts had been taken. In the east
of Europe the Turks had been successful on some
points, the Christians on other points ; and the termi-
nation of the contest seemed to be as remote as ever.
The coalition had in the course of the year lost one
valuable member and gained another. The Duke of
Lorraine, the ablest captain in the Imperial service, was
no more. He had died, as he had lived, an exile and
a wanderer, and had bequeathed to his children no-
thing but his name and his rights. It was popularly
said that the confederacy could better have spared
thirty thousand soldiers than such a general. But
scarcely had the allied Courts gone into mourning for
him when they were consoled by learning that another
prince, superior to him in power, and not inferior to
him in capacity or courage, had joined the league
against France.
* See^ in the Leyen and Melville imaginable to be used, unless we
Papers, MelviUe a Letters written will hazard the oTertuming of all :
from London at this time to Craw- and take this as earnest^ and not as
ford, Rule, Williamson, and other imaginations and fears only."
vehement Presbyterians. He says : f Principal Acts of the General
" The clergy that were putt out, and Assembly of the Church of Scotland
come up, make a great clamour : held in and begun at Edinburgh the
many here encourage and rejoyce at l6*th day of October, I69O ; Edin-
it . . . . There is nothing now but burgh, l691*
the greatest sobrietie and moderation
s s 3
710 HISTORY 07 ENQLAKD.
CHAP. This was Victor Amadeus Duke of Savoy. ' He was
^ ^ a young man: but he was already versed in those
1690. arts for which the statesmen of Italy had, ever since
o?&i^* the thirteenth century, been celebrated, those arts by
joins the which Castruccio Castracani and Francis Sforza rose to
greatness, and which Machiavel reduced to a system.
No sovereign in modem Europe has, with so small a
principality, exercised so great an ii^uence daring so
long a period. He had for a time submitted, with a
show of cheerfulness, but with secret reluctance and re-
sentment, to the French ascendency. When the war
broke out, he professed neutrality, but entered into pri-
vate negotiations with the House of Austria. He would
probably have continued to dissemble till he found
some opportunity of striking an unexpected blow, had
not his crafty schemes been disconcerted by the decision
and vigour of Lewis. A French army conmianded by
Catinat, an officer of great skill and valour, marched
into Piedmont. The Duke was informed that his con-
duct had excited suspicions which he could remove only
by admitting foreign garrisons into Turin and Vercelli.
He found that he must be either the slave or the open
enemy of his powerful and imperious neighbour. His
choice was soon made ; and a war began which, during
seven years, found emplo3rment for some of the best
generals and best troops of Lewis. An Envoy Extra-
ordinary from Savoy went to the Hague, proceeded
thence to London, presented his credentials in the
Banqueting House, and addressed to William a speech
which was speedily translated into many languages and
read in every part of Europe. The orator congratu-
lated the King on the success of that great enterprise
which had restored England to her ancient place among
the nations, and had broken the chains of Europe.
" That my master,*' he said, " can now at length ven-
ture to express feelings which have been long concealed
in the recesses of his heart, is part of the debt which he
WILLIAM Am) MABY. 711
owes to Your Majesty. You have inspired him with chap.
the hope of fi^edom after so many years of bondage." ♦ ^^^
It had been determined that, during the approaching
winter a Congress of all the powers hostile to France
should be held at the Hague. William was impatient
to proceed thither. But it was necessary that he should
first hold a Session of Parliament. Early in October
the Houses reassembled at Westminster. The members
had generally come up in good humour. Those Tories
whom it was possible to conciliate had been conci-
liated by the Act of Grace, and by the large share
which they had obtained of the favours of the Crown.
Those Whigs who were capable of learning had learned
much fix)m the lesson which William had given them,
and had ceased to expect that he would descend from
the rank of a King to that of a party leader. Both
Whigs and Tories had, with few exceptions, been
alarmed by the prospect of a French invasion and
cheered by the news of the victory of the Bojnie. The
Sovereign who had shed his blood for their nation and
their religion stood at this moment higher in public
estimation than at any time since his accession. His
speech from the throne called forth the loud acclama-
tions of Lords and Conunons.f Thanks were unani-
mously voted by both Houses to the King for his
achievements in Ireland, and to the Queen for the pru-
dence with which she had, during his absence, governed
England.^ Thus commenced a Session distinguished
among the Sessions of that reign by harmony and tran-
quillity. No report of the debates has been preserved,
unless a long forgotten lampoon, in which some of the
speeches made on the first day are burlesqued in dog-
grel rhjones, may be called a report.§ The time of the
* Monthly Mercuries; London ^ Lords' Joomals, Oct 6. I69O;
Gazettes of NoTember 3, and 6. Commons' Journals, Oct 8.
1690. § I am not aware that this 1am-
t Van Citters to the States Ge- poon has ever been printed. I have
neral^ Oct. ^ I69O. seen it only in two contemporary ma-
2 z 4
712 HISTOBT OJ- EKGLAKD.
CHAP. Commons appears to have been chiefly occupied in dis-
cussing questions arising out of the elections of the
1690. preceding spring. The supplies necessary for the war,
voted!!** though large, were granted with alacrity. The number
of regular troops for the next year was fixed at seventy
thousand, of whom twelve thousand were to be horse
or dragoons. The charge of this army, the greatest that
England had ever maintained, amounted to about two
million three hundred thousand pounds ; the charge of
the navy to about eighteen hundred thousand pounds.
The charge of the ordnance was included in these sums,
and was roughly estimated at one eighth of the naval
and one fifth of the military expenditure.* The whole
of the extraordinary aid granted to the King exceeded
four millions.
The Commons justly thought that the extraordinary
liberality with which they had provided for the public
service entitled them to demand extraordinary secu-
rities against waste and peculation. A bill was brought
in empowering nine Commissioners to examine and
state the public accounts. The nine were named in the
bill, and were all members of the Lower House. The
Lords agreed to the bill without amendments ; and the
King gave his assent.f
Ways and The debates on the Ways and Means occupied a con-
siderable part of the Session. It was resolved that sixteen
hundred and fifty thousand pounds should be raised by
a direct monthly assessment on land. The excise duties
on ale and beer were doubled ; and the import duties on
raw silk, linen, timber, glass, and some other articles,
were increased. J Thus far there was little diflFerence
of opinion. But soon the smooth course of business was
disturbed by a proposition which was much more popu-
nuscripts. It is entitled The Open- ber, I69O, particularly of Dec. 26. ;
ing of the Session, I69O. Stat. 2 W. & M. Bess. 2. c. 11.
* Commons' Journals, Oct. 9, X Stat. 2 W. & M. seas. 2. c 1.
10. 13, 14. 1690. 3, 4.
f Commons' Journals of Decem-
Meaos.
WILLIAM AND MABY. 713
'lar than just or humane. Taxes of unprecedented seve- chap.
rity had been imposed : and yet it might well be doubted ^^^'.
whether these taxes would be sufficient. Why, it was ^^90.
asked, should not the cost of the Irish war be borne by
the Irish insurgents ? How those insurgents had acted
in their mock Parliament all the worid knew; and
nothing could be more reasonable than to mete to them
from their own measure. They ought to be treated as
they had treated the Saxon colony. Every acre which
the Act of Settlement had left them ought to be seized
by the state for the purpose of defraying that expense
which their turbulence and perverseness had made ne-
cessary. It is not strange that a plan which at once
gratified national animosity, and held out the hope of
pecuniary relief, should have been welcomed with eager
delight. A biU was brought in which bore but too
much resemblance to some of the laws passed by the
Jacobite legislators of Dublin. By this bill it was pro-
vided that the property of every person who had been
in rebellion against the King and Queen since the day
on which they were proclaimed should be confiscated,
and that the proceeds should be applied to the support
of the war. An exception was made in favour of such
Protestants as had merely submitted to superior force :
but to Papists no indulgence was shown. The royal
prerogative of clemency was limited. The King might
indeed, if such were his pleasure, spare the lives of his
vanquished enemies ; but he was not to be permitted to
save any part of their estates from the general doom.
He was not to have it in his power to grant a capitu-
lation which should secure to Irish Roman Catholics the
enjojonent of their hereditary lands. Nay, he was not
to be allowed to keep faith with persons whom he had
already received to mercy, who had kissed his hand, and
had heard from his lips the promise of protection. An
attempt was made to insert a proviso in favour of Lord
Dover. Dover, who, with all his faults, was not without
714 mSTOBY OF JSSOLJLND.
some English feelings, had, by defending the interests of
his native country at Dublin, made himself odious to
1690. both the Irish and the French. After the battle of the
Bo3nie his situation was deplorable. Neither at Lime-
rick nor at Saint Grermains could he hope to be wel-
comed. In his despair, he threw himself at William's
feet, promised to live peaceably, and was graciously
assured that he had nothing to fear. Though the royal
word seemed to be pledged to this unfortunate man, the
Commons resolved, by a hundred and nineteen votes to
a hundred and twelve, that his property should not be
exempted from the general confiscation.
The bill went up to the Peers; but the Peers were
not inclined to pass it without considerable amend-
ments; and such amendments there was not time to
make. Numerous heirs at law, reversioners, and credi-
tors implored the Upper House to introduce such pro-
visoes as might secure the innocent against all danger
of being involved in the punishment of the guilty.
Some petitioners asked to be heard by counsel. The
King had made all his arrangements for a voyage to
the Hague; and the day beyond which he could not
postpone his departure drew near. The bill was there-
fore, happily for the honour of English legislation,
consigned to that dark repository in which the abor-
tive statutes of many generations sleep a sleep rarely
disturbed by the historian or the antiquary.*
Proceed- Another question, which slightly and but slightly dis-
TorriS^-*^** composed the tranquillity of this short session, arose
^^^ out of the disastrous and disgraceful battle of Beachy
Head. Torrington had, immediately after that battle,
been sent to the Tower, and had ever since remained
there. A technical difficulty had arisen about the mode
of bringing him to trial. There was no Lord High
♦ Burnet, ii. 67. See the Jour- of the 30th of December and the 1st
nals of both Houses, particularly of January. The bill itself will be
the Commons' Journals of the 19th found in the archiTes of the House
of December and the Lords* Journals of Lords.
¥nLLIAM AND BiABT. 715
Admiral ; and whether the Commissioners of the Ad- chap.
miralty were competent to execute martial law was ^^^
a point which to some jurists appeared not perfectly ^^'90-
clear. The majority of the judges held that the Com-
missioners were competent; but, for the purpose of
removing all doubt, a bill was brought into the Upper
House; and to this bill several Lords offered an oppo-
sition which seems to have been most unreasonable.
The proposed law, they said, was a retrospective penal
law, and therefore objectionable. If they used this
argument in good faith, they were ignorant of the very
rudiments of the science of legislation. To make a
law for punishing that which, at the time when it was
done, was not punishable, is contrary to all sound prin-
ciple. But a law which merely alters the criminal
procedure may with perfect propriety be made appli-
cable to past as weU as to future offences. It would
have been the grossest injustice to give a retrospective
operation to the law which made slavetrading felony.
But there was not the smallest injustice in enacting
that the Central Criminal Court shoidd try felonies com-
mitted long before that Court was in being. In Tor-
rington's case the substantive law continued to be what
it had always been. The definition of the crime, the
amount of the penalty, remained unaltered. The only
change was in the form of procedure; and that change
the legislature was perfectiy justified in making re-
trospectively. It is indeed hardly possible to believe
that some of those who opposed the bill were duped
by the fallacy of which they condescended to make use.
The feeling of caste was strong among the Lords.
That one of themselves should be tried for his life by a
court composed of plebeians seemed to them a degra-
dation of their whole order. If their noble brother
had offended, articles of impeachment ought to be ex-
hibited against him: Westminster Hall ought to be
fitted up : his peers ought to meet in their robes, and
716 niSTOBT OF EKGLAKD.
CHAP, to give in their verdict on their honour : a Lord High
^^^ Steward ought to pronounce the sentence and to break
1690. the staff. There was an end of privilege if an Eari
was to be doomed to death by tarpaulins seated round
a table in the cabin of a ship. These feelings had so
much influence that the bill passed the Upper House
by a majority of only two.* In the Lower House,
where the dignities and immunities of the nobility were
regarded with no friendly feeling, there was littie dif-
ference of opinion. Torrington requested to be heard
at the bar, and spoke there at great length, but weakly
and confusedly. He boasted of his services, of his
sacrifices, and of his wounds. He abused the Dutch,
the Board of Admiralty, and the Secretary of State.
The bill, however, went through all its stages without
a division .f
Toning. Early in December Torrington was sent under a
Md*a^*°^ guard down the river to Sheemess. There the Court
quittaL Martial met on board of a frigate named the Kent.
The investigation lasted three days ; and during those
days the ferment was great in London. Nothing was
heard of on the exchange, in the coffeehouses, nay
even at the church doors, but Torrington. Parties ran
high: wagers to an immense amount were depending:
rumours were hourly arriving by land and water; and
every rumour was exaggerated and distorted by the
way. From the day on which the news of the ignomi-
nious battle arrived, down to the very eve of the trial,
public opinion had been very unfavourable to the pri-
soner. His name, we are told by contemporary pam-
phleteers, was hardly ever mentioned without a curse.
But, when the crisis of his fate drew nigh, there was,
as in our country there often is, a reaction. All his
♦ Lords' Journals, Oct. 30. I69O. which I have not been able to find.
The numbers are never given in the f Van Citters to the States Ge-
Lords* Journals. That the majority neral, Nov. ^J. I69O, The Earl of
was only two is asserted by Ralph, Torrington's speech to the House
who had, I suppose, some authority of Commons, I71O.
WILLIAM AND MABT. 717
merits, his courage, his good natiire, his firm adherence chap.
to the Protestant religion in the evil times, were re- ^^^'
membered. It was impossible to deny that he was i^go.
sunk in sloth and luxury, that he neglected the most
important business for his pleasures, and that he could
not say No to a boon companion or to a mistress : but for
these faults excuses and soft names were found. His
friends used without scruple all the arts which could
raise a national feeling in his favour; and these arts
were powerftilly assisted by the intelligence that the
hatred which was felt towards him in Holland had
vented itself in indignities to some of his countrymen.
The cry was that a bold, jolly, freehanded English
gentleman, of whom the worst that could be said was
that he liked wine and women, was to be shot in or-
der to gratify the spite of the Dutch. What passed
at the trial tended to confirm the populace in this no-
tion. Most of the witnesses against the prisoner were
Dutch officers. The Dutch rear admiral, who took on
himself the part of prosecutor, forgot himself so far as
to accuse the judges of partiality. When at length,
on the evening of the third day, Torrington was pro-
nounced not guilty, many who had recently clamoured
for his blood seemed to be well pleased with his ac-
quittal. He returned to London free, and with his
sword by his side. As his yacht went up the Thames,
every slup which he passed saluted him. He took his
seat in the House of Lords, and even ventured to pre-
sent himself at court. But most of the peers looked
coldly on him : William would not see him, and ordered
him to be dismissed from the service.*
* Burnet, ii. 67> 68. ; Van Citten l6pi ; Reasons for the Trial of the
to the States General, ^^Iil|ll>ec ^. Earl of Torrington hy Impeachment,
ii. M. 1690; An impartial Ac l^PP'^ ^/J^I^l^ 'J ^\^'
"unt of some remarkaWe Passages ^^""8^', ^f ^ V^^' ?''U^^ ^""'l
in the Life of Arthur, Earl of Tor. ""«tons Speech to the House of
rington, together with some modest Commons, 1710. That Tomngton
ReraarksontheTrialandAcquitment, ^« ^^^7 «^^«> ^^ *^« P«^" ^
718
mSTOBT OF ENaLAND.
CHAP.
XVI.
1690.
Animosity
of the
Whigs
against
Caermar-
then.
There waB another subject about which no vote was
passed by either of the Houses, but about which there
is reason to believe that some acrimonious discussion
took place in both. The Whigs, though much less vio-
lent than in the preceding year, could not patiently see
Caermarthen as nearly prime minister as any EngEsh
subject could be under a prince of William's character.
Though no man had taken a more prominent part in
the Revolution than the Lord President, though no
man had more to fear from a counterrevolution, his
old enemies would not believe that he had from his
heart renounced those arbitrary doctrines for which he
had once been zealous, or that he could bear true
allegiance to a government sprung from resistance.
Through the last six months of 1690 he was mercilessly
lampooned. Sometimes he was King Thomas and
sometimes Tom the Tyrant,* William was adjured not
to go to the Continent leaving his worst enemy close to
the ear of the Queen. Hali&x, who had, in the preceding
year, been ungenerously and ungratefully persecuted
by the Whigs, was now mentioned by them with respect
and regret : for he was the enemy of their enemy.f The
face, the figure, the bodily infirmities of Caermarthen,
were ridiculed. J Those dealings with the French Court
in which, twelve years before, he had, rather by his mis-
fortune than by his fault, been implicated, were repre-
sented LQ the most odious colours. He was reproached
learned from an article in the No-
ticias Ordinarias of February 6.
1691, Madrid.
* In one Whig lampoon of this
year are these lines :
" David, we thought, succeeded Saul,
When William rose on James's fall ;
But now King Thomas governs all/'
In another are these lines :
"When Charles did seem to fill the
throne.
This tyrant Tom made England
groan."
A third says :
*• Yorkshire Tom was rais*d to honour.
For what cause no creature knew ;
He was false to the royal donor.
And will be the same to you.'*
t A Whig poet compares the two
Marquesses, as they were often called,
and gives George the preference
over Thomas.
** If a ^rarquess needs most steer as,
Take a better in his stead.
Who will in your absence cheer us,
And has £air a wiaer head.**
X **A thin, illnatured ghost that haunti
the King.**
WILLIAM AND HART. 719
-with hi8 impeachment and his imprisonment. Once, chap.
it was said, he had escaped: but vengeance might still ^
overtake him ; and London might enjoy the long deferred i690.
pleasure of seeing the old traitor flung off the ladder in
the blue riband which he disgraced. All the members
of his family, wife, son, daughters, were assailed with
savage invective and contemptuous sarcasm.* All who
were supposed to be closely connected with him by
political ties came in for a portion of this abuse ; and
none had so large a portion as Lowther. The feeling
indicated by these satires was strong among the Whigs
in Parliament. Several of them deliberated on a plan
of attack, and were in hopes that they should be able to
raise such a storm as would make it impossible for him
to remain at the head of affairs. It should seem that, at
this time, his influence in the royal closet was not quite
what it had been. Godolphin, whom he did not love,
and could not control, but whose financial skill had
been greatly missed during the summer, was brought
back to the Treasury, and made First Commissioner.
Lowther, who was the Lord President's own man, still
Bate at the board, but no longer presided there. It is
true that there was not then such a difference as there
now is between the First Lord and his colleagues. Still
the change was important and significant. Marlborough,
whom Caermarthen disliked, was, in military affairs,
not less trusted than Godolphin in financial afiJairs. The
seals which Shrewsbury had resigned in the summer
had ever since been lying in William's secret drawer.
The Lord President probably expected that he should
be consulted before they were given away; but he was
disappointed. Sidney was sent for from Ireland ; and
the seals were delivered to him. The first intimation
which the Lord President received of this important
appointment was not made in a manner likely to sooth
* <* Let him with his blue riband be For my Udy a cart ; and I'd contrire it.
Tied ckMe up to the gallowi tree ; Ser dandng son and heir should drive it"
720 BISTORT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, his feelings. " Did you meet the new Secretary of
IIL State going out?" said William. " No, Sir," answered
1690. the Lord President; "I met nohody but my Lord
Sidney." "He is the new Secretary," sidd William.
" He will do till I find a fit man ; and he will be quite
willing to resign as soon as I find a fit man. Any
other person that I could put in would think himseK ill
used if I were to put him out." If William had said
all that was in his mind, he would probably have added
that Sidney, though not a great orator or statesman,
was one of the very few English politicians who could
be as entirely trusted as Bentinck or Zulestein. Caer-
marthen listened with a bitter smile. It was new, he
afterwards said, to see a nobleman placed in the Secre-
tary's office, as a footman was placed in a box at the
theatre, merely in order to keep a seat till his betters
came. But this jest was a cover for serious mortifica-
tion and alarm. The situation of the prime minister
was unpleasant and even perilous; and the duration
of his power would probably have been short, had not
fortune, just at this moment, put it in his power to
confound his adversaries by rendering a great service
to the state.*
A Jacobite The Jacobitcs had seemed in August to be com-
^^^^ pletely crushed. The victory of the Boyne, and the
irresistible explosion of patriotic feeling produced by
the appearance of Tourville's fleet on the coast of
Devonshire, had cowed the boldest champions of here-
ditary right. Most of the chief plotters passed some
weeks in confinement or in concealment. But, widely
as the ramifications of the conspiracy had extended,
only one traitor suffered the punishment of his crime.
This was a man named Godfrey Cross, who kept an inn
* As to the designs of the Whigs ttireeii Caermartheu and Godolpbin,
against Caerroarthen, see Burner, ii. see Godolphin's letter to William
68, 69., and a very significant pro- dated March 20. I69I, in M-
test in the Lords' Journals, October rymple.
'30. 1690. As to the relations be-
WILLIAM AND MARY. 721
on the beach near Rye, and who, when the French chap.
fleet was on the coast of Sussex, had given inforan- 1
ation to Tourville. When it appeared that this soli- ^^90.
taiy example was thought sufficient, when the danger
of invasion was over, when the popular enthusiasm
excited by that danger had subsided, when the lenity
of the government had permitted some conspirators to
leave their prisons and had encouraged others to venture
out of their hidingplaces, the faction which had been
prostrated and stunned began to give signs of return-
ing animation. The old traitors again mustered at
the old haunts, exchanged significant looks and eager
whispers, and drew from their pockets libels on the
Court of Kensington, and letters in milk and lemon juice
from the CJourt of Saint Germains. Preston, Dart-
mouth, Clarendon, Penn, were among the most busy.
With them was leagued the nonjuring Bishop of Ely,
who was still permitted by the government to reside
in the palace, now no longer his own, and who had,
but a short time before, called heaven to witness that
he detested the thought of inviting foreigners to in-
vade England. One good opportunity had been lost;
but another was at hand, and must not be suffered to
escape. The usurper would soon be again out of Eng-
land. The administration would soon be again confided
to a weak woman and a divided council. The year
which was closing had certainly been unlucky ; but
that which was about to commence might be more
auspicious.
In December a meeting of the leading Jacobites was Meeting of
held.* The sense of the assembly, which consisted ex- Lnspira-
clusively of Protestants, was that something ought to *®"-
be attempted, but that the difficulties were great. None
* My account of this conspiracy and the Life of James^ ii. 441. Nar-
b chiefly taken from the evidence, cissus Luttrdl remarks that no Ro-
oral and documentary^ which was man Catholic appeared to have heen
produced on the trial of the conspi- admitted to the consultations of the
rators. See also Burnet^ ii. 69, 70., conspirators.
VOL. ni. 3 \
722 msTOBT ov bnqland.
CHAP, ventured to recommend that James should come over
XVI
L unaccompanied by regular troops. Yet all^ taught by
1690. the experience of the preceding summer, dreaded the
eflFect which might be produced by the sight of French
uniforms and standards on English ground. A paper
was drawn up which would, it was hoped, convince
both James and Lewis that a restoration could not be
effected without the cordial concurrence of the nation.
France, — such was the substance of this remarkable
document, — might possibly make the island a heap of
ruins, but never a subject province. It was hardly
possible for any person, who had not had an opportunity
of observing the temper of the public mind, to imagine
the savage and dogged determination with which men
of all classes, sects and factions were prepared to resist
any foreign potentate who should attempt to conquer
the kingdom by force of arms. Nor could England be
governed as a Roman Catholic country. There were
five millions of Protestants in the reahn: there were
not a hundred thousand Papists : that such a minority
should keep down such a majority was physically im-
possible ; and to physical impossibility all other con-
siderations must give way. James would therefore do
well to take without delay such measures as might in-
dicate his resolution to protect the established religion.
Unhappily every letter which arrived from France con-
tained something tending to irritate feelings which it
was most desirable to sooth. Stories were every where
current of slights offered at Saint Germains to Pro-
testants who had given the highest proof of loyalty by
following into banishment a master zealous for a faith
which was not their own. The edicts which had been
issued against the Huguenots might perhaps have been
justified by the anarchical opinions and practices of
those sectaries : but it was the height of injustice and
of inhospitality to put those edicts in force against men
who had been driven from their country solely on
WILLIAM AND MART. 723
account of their attachment to a Roman Catholic Kinff. chap.
XVI
Surely sons of the Anglican Church, who had, in obe- L
dience to her teaching, sacrificed all that they most ^^90.
prized on earth to the royal cause, ought not to be any
longer interdicted jfrom assembling in some modest
edifice to celebrate her rites and to receive her con-
solations. An announcement that Lewis had, at the
request of James, permitted the English exiles to wor-
ship God according to their national forms would be
the best prelude to the great attempt. That attempt
ought to be made early in the spring. A French
force must undoubtedly accompany His Majesty. But
he must declare that he brought that force only for
the defence of his person and for the protection of his
loving subjects, and that, as soon as the foreign op-
pressors had been expelled, the foreign deliverers should
be dismissed. He must also promise to govern ac-
cording to law, and must refer all the points which had
been in dispute between him and his people to the
decision of a Parliament.
It was determined that Preston should carry to Saint The con-
Germains the resolutions and suggestions of the con- ^etSI^be
spirators. John Ashton, a person who had been clerk to send
of the closet to Mary of Modena when she was on the saUiu"ei^
throne, and who was entirely devoted to the interests ™^'"*-
of the exiled family, undertook to procure the means
of conveyance, and for this purpose engaged the co-
operation of a hotheaded young Jacobite named Elliot,
who only knew in general that a service of some hazard
was to be rendered to the good cause.
It was easy to find in the port of London a vessel
the owner of which was not scrupulous about the use
for which it might be wanted. Ashton and Elliot were
introduced to the master of a smack n^ed the James
and Elizabeth. The Jacobite agents pretended to be
smugglers, and talked of the thousands of pounds whicli
might be got by a single lucky trip to France and back
3 A 2
724 HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, again. A bargain was struck: a sixpence was broken;
^^^ and all the arrangements were made for the voyage.
1690. Preston was charged by his friends with a packet
fntlSedto c^^^^i^^g several important papers. Among these was
Preston, a list of the English fleet furnished by Dartmouth, who
was in communication y/ith some of his old companions
in arms, a minute of the resolutions which had been
adopted at the meeting of the conspirators, and the
Heads of a Declaration which it was thought desirable
that James should publish at the moment of his landing.
There were also six or seven letters from persons of
note in the Jacobite party. Most of these letters were
parables, but parables which it was not difficult to un-
riddle. One plotter used the cant of the law. There
was hope that Mr. Jackson would soon recover hia
estate. The new landlord was a hard man, and had set
the freeholders against him. A little matter would
redeem the whole property. The opinions of the best
counsel were in Mr. Jackson's favour. All that was ne-
cessary was that he should himself appear in Westmin-
ster Hall. The final hearing ought to be before the
close of Easter Term. Other writers affected the style
of the Royal Exchange. There was a great demand for
a cargo of the right sort. There was reason to hope that
the old firm would soon form profitable connections witli
houses with which it had hitherto had no dealings. This
was evidently an allusion to the discontented Whigs.
But^ it was added, the shipments must not be delayed.
Nothing was so dangerous as to overstay the market.
If the expected goods did not arrive by the tenth of
. March, the whole profit of the year would be lost. As
to details, entire reliance might be placed on the excel-
lent factor who was going over. Clarendon assmned
the character of a matchmaker. There was great hope
that the business which he had been negotiating woidd
be brought to bear, and that the marriage portion would
be well secured. " Your relations," he wrote, in allu-
WILLIAM AND MARY. 725
sion to his recent confinement, " have been very hard chap
on me this last summer. Yet, as soon as I could go ^^^'
safely abroad, I pursued the business." Catharine Sedley ^^'
entrusted Preston with a letter in which, without alle-
gory or circumlocution, she complained that her lover
had left her a daughter to support, and begged very hard
for money. But the two most important despatches
were from Bishop Turner. They were directed to Mr.
and Mrs. Reddmg: but the language was such as it
would be thought abject in any gentleman to hold except
to royalty. The Bishop assured their Majesties that he
was devoted to their cause, that he earnestly wished
for a great occasion to prove his zeal, and that he would
no more swerve from his duty to them than renounce
his hope of heaven. He added, in phraseology meta-
phorical indeed, but perfectly intelligible, that he was
the mouthpiece of several of the nonjuring prelates, and
especially of Sancroft. " Sir, I speak in the plural," —
these are the words of the letter to James, — " because
I write my elder brother's sentiments as well as my own,
and the rest of our family." The letter to Mary of
Modena is to the same effect. " I say this in behalf of
my elder brother, and the rest of my nearest relations,
as well as from myself."*
All the letters with which Preston was charged re-
ferred the Court of Saint Germains to him for fuller
information. He carried with him minutes in his own
handwriting of the subjects on which he was to con-
verse with his master and with the ministers of Lewis.
These minutes, though concise and desultory, can for
the most part be interpreted without difficiUty. The .
vulnerable points of the coast are mentioned. Gosport
is defended only by palisades- The garrison of Ports-
• The genuineness of these letters Tanner papers in the Bodleian Li-
wai once contested on Tery fiiTolous brary, and which will be found in the
grounds. But the letter of Turner Life of Ken by a Layman, must
to Sancroft, which is among the convince the most incredulous.
3 A 3
726 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, mouth is small. The French fleet ought to be out in
^^^' April, and to fight before the Dutch are in the Channel.
1690. There are a few broken words clearly importing that
some at least of the nonjuring bishops, when they de-
clared, before God, that they abhorred the thought of
inviting the French over, were dissembling.*
informa- Every thing was now ready for Preston's departure.
!!w !w!lf But the owner of the James and Elizabeth had con-
plot given
loCaer- ccivcd a suspicioH that the expedition for which his
™* ^"' smack had been hired was rather of a political than of
a connnercial nature. It occurred to him that more
might be made by informing against his passengers
than by conveying them safely. Intelligence of what
was passing was conveyed to the Lord President. No
intelligence could be more welcome to him. He was
delighted to find that it was in his power to give a
signal proof of his attachment to the government which
his enemies had accused him of betraying. He took
his measures with his usual energy and dexterity. His
eldest son, the Earl of Danby, a bold, volatUe, and
somewhat eccentric young man, was fond of the sea,
lived much among sailors, and was the proprietor of a
small yacht of marvellous speed. This vessel, well
manned, was placed under the command of a trusty
officer named BiUop, and was sent down the river, as
if for the purpose of pressing mariners.
Arrest of At dead of night, the last night of the year 1690,
fnTws Preston, Ashton and Elliot went on board of their
com- smack near the Tower. They were in great dread lest
they should be stopped and searched, either by a frigate
which lay off Woolwich, or by the guard posted at the
blockhouse of Gravesend. But, when they had passed
both frigate and blockhouse without being challenged,
their spirits rose: their appetite became keen: they
♦ The words are these : " The But the satisfying of friends." The
Modest Inquiry — The Bishops' An- Modest Inquiry was the pamphlet
swer — Not the chilling of them — which hinted at Dewitting.
panions.
WILLIAM AND ICABT. 727
unpacked a hamper well stored with roast beef, mince cnAP.
pies, and bottles of wine, and were just sitting down to ^^^
their Christmas cheer, when the alarm was given that 1690.
a vessel from Tilbury was flying through the water
after them. They had scarcely time to hide themselves
in a dark hole among the gravel which was the ballast
of their smack, when the chase was over, and Billop,
at the head of an armed party, came on board. The
hatches were taken up : the conspirators were arrested ;
and their clothes were strictly examined. Preston, in
his agitation, had dropped on the gravel his official
seal and the packet of which he was the bearer. The
seal was discovered where it had fallen. Ashton,
aware of the importance of the papers, snatched them
up and tried to conceal them: but they were soon
found in his bosom.
The prisoners then tried to cajole or to corrupt Bil-
lop. They called for wine, pieced him, praised his
gentlemanlike demeanour, and assured him that, if he
would accompany them, nay, if he would only let that
little roll of paper fall overboard into the Thames, his
fortune would be made. The tide of affairs, they said,
was on the turn: things could not go on for ever
as they had gone on of late ; and it was in the cap-
tain's power to be as great and as rich as he could
desire. Billop, though courteous, was inflexible. The
conspirators became sensible that their neckswere in im-
minent danger. The emergency brought out strongly
the true characters of all the three, characters which,
but for such an emergency, might have remained for
ever unknown. Preston had always been reputed a
highspirited and gallant gentleman : but the near pros-
pect of a dungeon and a gallows altogether unmanned
him. Elliot stormed and blasphemed, vowed that, if he
ever got free, he would be revenged, and, with horrible
imprecations, called on the thunder to strike the yacht,
3 A 4
728 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAP, and on London Bridge to fall in and crush her. Ash-
.5IL ton alone behaved with manly firmness.
1690. Late in the evening the yacht reached Whitehall
Stairs ; and the prisoners, strongly guarded, were con-
ducted to the Secretary's office. The papers which
had been found in Ashton's bosom were inspected that
night by Nottingham and Caermarthen, and were, on
the following morning, put by Caermarthen into the
hands of the King.
Soon it was known all over London that a plot had
been detected, that the messengers whom the adherents
of James had sent to solicit the help of an invading
army from France had been arrested by the agents of
the vigilant and energetic Lord President, and that
documentary evidence, which might aflfect the hves
of some great men, was in the possession of the go-
vernment. The Jacobites were terrorstricken : the
clamour of the Whigs against Caermarthen was sud-
denly hushed ; and the Session ended in perfect harmony.
On the fifth of January the King thanked the Houses
for their support, and assured them that he would not
grant away any forfeited property in Ireland till they
should reassemble. He alluded to the plot which had
just been discovered, and expressed a hope that the
friends of England would not, at such a moment, be
less active or less firmly united than her enemies. He
then signified his pleasure that the Parliament should
adjourn. On the following day he set out, attended
by a splendid train of nobles, for the Congress at the
Hague.*
* Lords* and Commons' Journals, Jan. 5. I69J ; London Gazette, Jan. 8.
INDEX
THE THIRD VOLUME.
Abjuration Bill; brought into the House
of Commons, 570. Its proTisions, 571.
Tyranny of ito last clause, 571, 572.
Thrown out, 573. Another Abjuration
Bill introduced into the House of Lords,
573. Its provisions, 574. The bill com-
mitted, but never reported, 575.
Addison, Joseph ; reference to, 98. note.
Admiralty ; under the control of James II.,
14. Its administration confided to a
board, 19. A new Commission of, issued,
549.
Aldrich, Dean of Christchurch ; one of the
Ecclesiastical Commissioners, 470. His
character and abilities, 470. Absents
himself from the meetings of the Com-
mission, 472.
Allegiance, Oath of; required of the mem-
bers of both Houses, 31. 82. Discussions
on the bill for settling the oaths of, 99.
See Oath of Allegiance.
Alexander VIII., Pope; his accession to
the Papal chair, 439. Refuses to acknow-
ledge the bishops appointed by Lewis XIV.
in France^ 440.
Alsop, Vincent; his seal in fkvour of the
dispensing power, 71.
Amsterdam ; public rejoicings at, on the ac-
cession of William and Mary, 3.
Angus, Earl of; raises the Cameronian re-
giment, 344.
Annandale; excesses of the Covenanters in,
250.
Annandale, Earl of; Joins the Club of
Edinburgh, 298. Absents himself firom
the command of his regiment at the battle
of Killiecrankie, 355. His regiment
routed, 361. Proceeds with Montgo-
mery and Ross to London, 682. Returns
to Edinburgh, 683. Promises made to
him by Mary of Modena, 696. Breaks
with the Jacobites and becomes a Wil-
liamite again, 697. Retires to Bath,
699. Brought up to London by a war-
rant, 699.
Anne, the Princess (afterwards Queen) ; in-
civility of William III. to her, 51. Gives
birth to a son, William Duke of Glou«
cester, 395. The King acts as sponsor at
the baptism, 395. Annuities granted to
her, 559, 560. Not on good terms with
the King and Queen, 560. Her stu-
pidity, 560. Her fondness for Lady
Marlborough, 560. Her bigotry, 563,
Boundless influence of the Churchills
over her, 563. A Princess's party
formed in Parliament, 564. Annoyance
of the Queen at the conduct of the Prin-
cess, 564. An annuity of fifty thousand
pounds settled on her, 556, Renewal of
her friendship with the Queen, 566.
Anne*8 Bounty, Queen; founded by the
perseverance of Bishop Burnet, 78.
Antrim ; migration of the people of, to
Londonderry, 163.
Antrim, Alexander Macdonnell, Earl of;
his march to occupy Londonderry, 144.
Refused admittance by the citizens, 144,
145. Retires to Coleraine, 146. Hia
share in the battle of the Boyne, 630; 631.
Apocrypha ; discussions respecting the, 490.
Appin, Stewarts of, 31 8.
Apprentices ; the thirteen, of Londonderry,
145.
Arbutus; the, in Kerry, 135.
Architecture ; the, of Hampton Court, 55.
A favourite amusement of William III.,
55, Wren's additions to, 56,
Argyle, Earl of (father of Earl Archibald) ;
his ambition and influence among the alao
of the Campbells, 316, 317. His son Ar*
chibald, 317. H is grandson, 27 1 . 3 1 8.
730
INDEX TO
Argyle, Archibald, Earl of; his defeat of the
confederacy formed against him, 317.
Driven into exile, 317. His return, re-
bellion and execution, 317. His son, 271.
318.
Argyle, Earl of (son of Earl Archibald);
presents himself at the Convention in
Edinburgh, 271. Appointed one of
the Commissioners to carry the instru«
ment of government of the Scotch
Convention to London, 29 1« Returns to
Scotland and claims his title and estates,
318. Empowered by William III. to
raise an army on his domains for the ser-
vice of the Crown, 318. Alarm of the ad-
jacent chieftains, 318, 319. His diffi.
culty in gathering his clan, 343.
Argyleshire; possessions of the Macdonalds
in the, 315.
Armada ; the Spanish, 62.
Arminiauism ; leaning of the High Church
party towards, 94.
Armstrong, Sir Thomas ; his case examined
by the House of Commons, 525. His
flight and arrest at Leyden, 525. His
daughter, 526. His execution, 527. Ap-
pearance of his daughter at the bar of
the House to demand vengeance, 527.
Army ; its discontent on the accession of
William and Mary, 4. Causes of this, 4.
Its alarming conduct in various places, 5.
Disaffection of its Scottish corps, 38,
39. Tlie revolt suppressed, 42. The
first Mutiny Bill, 42. No standing army
under the Plantagenets and Stuarts, 43.
Aversion of every party in the state to
a standing army, 44. Its maladministra-
tion during the reigns of Charles II. and
James II., 61. The army of James II.
disbanded by order of Feversham, 268.
State of the English Commissariat, 424.
Villanyof the Commissariat of the army
under the command of Schomberg, 501.
State of that of William III., 624.
Army, Highland. See Highlanders.
Army, Irish; its numerical force under
Tyrconnel, 155. Low station of many
of the officers, 155. Small pay of the
soldiers, 155. llie army of James II.,
417, 418. The scandalous inefficiency of
his foot soldiers, 581. Its condition at
the battle of the Boyne, 623.
Articles of the Church of England ; the
clergy relieved from the necessity of sub-
scribing, 94.
Articles ; Lords of the, of the Scottish Par-
liament, 348.
Ashton, John, 723. Arrested, 727.
Assembly, General, of the Church of Scot-
land, 708. Letter from William to the,
708. lU answer, 709.
Athanasian Creed ; discussed by the Eccle.
siastical Commisaionera, 473.
Athol ; Blaur Castle at, 353. Troubles in,
351. Jacobite leaning of the men of, 352.
Their ravages in Argyle, 352. Called to
arms by two leaders, 353. lliej join the
camp at Blair, 369.
Athol, Marquess of; supported by the
Jacobites at the SeoUish Conventiona. 273.
His abilities and dishonourable character,
S72. His part in the Jacobite traosac
tions with Dundee, 280. His tardiness
and iu results, 28a Refuses to rote on
the resolution that James had forfeited
his crown, 286. His power in the High-
lands, 351. His Pithless character, 351.
Distrusted by both Jacobites and Wil-
liamites, 351. Steals away from Scotland
and settles at Bath, 352.
Atkyns, Sir Robert; appointed Chief Baron.
23. Chosen Speaker of the House of
Lords, 497.
Attainder, Act of; passed by the Iri^
Parliament of James 1 1.» 21 6. Reversal
of attainders in the first Parliament of
William and Mary, 382.
Auverquerque ; appointed Master of the
Horse, 24. His eourage, 25. Accom-
panies William to the siege of Limerick,
668.
Avaux, the Count of; his character and
abilities, 168. Chosen as ambassador to
accompany James II. to Ireland, 169.
His instructions, 169. Sworn of tlie
Privy Council, 175. Supports the Irish
party, which desires to be placed under
the government of France, 181. His
dislike of Melfort, 182. Accompanies
the King to Ulster, 184. He begs
the King to return to Dublin, 1S5.
Leaves the King, and retraces his
steps to Dublin, 187. Remonstrates with
James to abstain from openly opposing
the repeal of the Act of Settlennent, 1313.
Persuades the King not to allow Irish
Protestants to possess arms, 221. His
character compared with that of Count
Rosen, 231, 232. His atrocious advice
to James, 415. His counsel rejected,
416. His opinion of the Irish troops,
417. His astonishment at the energy of
the Irish on the news of the landing of
the English, 419. His adjurations to
James to prohibit marauding in the Irish
infantry, 581. Recalled to France, 584.
Sends a translation of Peno*s letter to
James to Lewis 587.
THE THIBD VOLDUE.
731
Austria ; her alliance* with England in the
great coalition, 122.
Aylesbury, Earl of; takes the Oath of Alle-
giance to William 1 1 1., S3. His traitorous
conduct, 586.
Ayrshire ; disturbances of the Covenanters
in, 250. The Covenanters from, called
to arms in Edinburgh, 282.
Baker, Migor Henry ; calls the people of
Londonderry to arms, 191. Appointed
one of the governors of the city, 195.
Dies of fever, 229.
Balcarras, Colin Lindsay, Earl of; his sta-
tion and character, 268. MeeU James
II. at Whitehall, 269. Greets WillUm
at St. James's, 269. His wife^s relation-
ship to William, 270. Returns to Scot-
land, 270. Prevails on the Duke of
Gordon to hold the Castle of Edinburgh
for King James, 271. 274. Applies to
the Convention for assistance, 277. Ar^
rested and imprisoned in the Tolbooth,
328. His perjury, 687. His mortifi-
cation at finding his name not even men.
tioned in the letter of Mary of Modena
to the Club, 696.
Balfour's regiment, 355. Broken and their
chief killed at KiUiecrankie, 361.
Ballenach, Stewart of; summons the elan
Athol for King James, 353.
Ballincarrig, Castle of ; taken and destroyed
by the Enniskilleners, 226.
Bandon ; muster of the Englishry at, 139.
Reduced by Lieutenant General Ma-
carthy, 160, 161.
Bantry Bay ; naval skirmish between the
English and French fleets in, 201.
Baptismal service; the, discussed by the
Ecclesiastical Commissioners, 472, 473.
Baptists; relieved by the Toleration Act,
83. Large numbers of, at the time of
the Revolution, 96.
Barillon; end of his political career, 167.
His death, 168.
Batavian federation ; Joins the great coa-
lition, 122. Manifesto of, declaring war
against France, 127.
Bates, 88.
Bavaria ; Elector of, occupies Cologne, 437.
Baxter, Richard, 88. Charitable sentiments
expressed by him before taking the Oaths
of Allegiance and Supremacy, 89.
Bayonet ; improved by General Mackay,
371.
Beachy Head ; battle of, 608.
Beatoun, Cardinal, 276.
Beaufort, Henry Somerset, Duke of; takes
the Oath of Allegiance to William III.,
32. Entertains King William at Bad-
minton, 677.
Beaumont ; commands his regiment at the
battle of the Boyne, 624.
Beccaria, 88.
Belfast ; its present condition compared
with that at the time of the Revolution,
615, 616. Landing of WillUm II 1. at,
616. Joy of the inhabitants at his arrival,
616. The castle of the Chichesters at, 616.
Belhaven, Lord ; commands a regiment at
Killiecrankie, 355. His gallantry in the
battle, 361.
Belturbet ; action between the Enniskil-
leners and Roman Catholics at, 227.
Bentham, Jeremy, 85.
Bentinck (afterwards Earl of Portland);
appointed Groom of the Stole to William
III., 24.
Berry, Lieutenant Colonel ; sent to the
assistance of the Enniskilleners, 242.
Sent to raise the siege of the Castle of
Crum, 242. Meets Macarthy*s troops at
Newton Butler, 243.
Berwick, Duko of; follows James II. to
Ireland, 166. Obtains an advantage over
the Enniskilleners, 241. Appointed Com-
mander in Chief of the Irish army, 676.
Beveridge ; his Latin sermon before Convo-
cation, 489.
Billop '; his arrest of the Jacobite conspi-
rators in the Thames, 726.
Birch, Colonel, 31. His suggestions for
stopping the revolt of the soldiery, 40.
His speech on the gallantry of the people
of Londonderry, 225. Opposes the in-
temperate motion of Howe, 405.
Bishops ; scanty attendance of, at the coro-
nation of William and Mary, 1 18. (See
Nonjurors.)
Bishops, Irish ; bill brought into the Irish
Parliament for deposing all of them, 214.
Blackmore ; his Prince Arthur referred to^
24. note. Reference to his Alfred, 313.
Blackwell Hall, broadcloth of, 97.
Blair Castle, 353. Occupied by Stewart of
Ballenach, 354. Summoned by Lord
Murray to surrender, 354. Besieged by
Lord Murray, 354, 355. The siege
raised, 357. Held by the Highlanders
afler the battle of Killiecrankie, 366.
Surrenders to Mackay, 377.
Boisseleau ; obtains the command of the
Irish garrison of Limerick, 668.
Boom Hall, near Londonderry, 201.
Borderers, the King's Own, 355. Com-
manded by Lord Leven at Killiecrankie,
355. 361.
Boroughs, Irish ; under the influence of
the Roman Catholics, 131, 132.
732
INDEX TO
Boyne; beauties of the valley of the, 621.
The ford at Oldbridge, 622. Battle of
the, 629.
Brandenburg; manifesto of, declaring war
against France, 127.
Breedlings; the, of the Fens, 41.
Brest fleet ; placed at the disposal of James
II., 165. Sails for Ireland, and lands
James at Kinsale, 169, 170.
Brown, Tom ; his remarks on the Presby-
terian divines, 98. note.
Browning, Micaiah (master of the Mount-
joy) ; breaks the boom in the Foyle, 2S5.
His death, 236.
Buchan ; appointed general in chief of the
Jacobites in Scotland, 683. Surprised by
Sir Thomas Livingstone, and his army
routed, 684.
Burnet, Bishop ; his generosity to the Earl
of Rochester, 33. Appointed to the va-
cant see of Salisbury, 75. Hated by the
Anglican priesthood, 75. His conversa-
tion with the Queen respecting the duties
of bishops, 78. His zeal in performing
his duty, 78. His success in establishing
Queen Anne*s Bounty, 78. His speech
in Parliament for the retention of the
last clause of the Comprehension Act,
lis. His endeavour to make the clergy
an exception to the provisions of the bill
for settling the oaths of fealty, 114. His
coronation sermon, 118, 119. Extract
from it, 254. note. His efforts to uphold
prelacy in Scotland, 259. His desire to
strike out the Athanasian Creed from the
Liturgy altogetlier, 473. His share in
the construction of the Bill of Rights,
498. His sermon at Bow Church on the
fast day, 552. note. The King's interview
with him previous to his expedition into
Ireland, 600.
Burt, Captain ; his description of the High-
lauds at the time of the Revolution, 301,
302.
Burton, John Hill ; reference to his His-
tory of Scotland, 255. note.
Butler, Captain ; leads the forlorn hope at
the assault on Londonderry, 199. Takes
part in the blockade, 200.
Cabal ; the, the originators of parliamentary
bribery, 545.
Caermarthcn, Marquess of; Lord Danby
created, 121. Attacked by Howe in the
House of Commons, 406. His influence
in the Ministry, 516. Implores the King
not to return to Holland, 530. Continues
to be President under the new govern-
ment, and in reality chief minister, 538.
His ill health, 538. His employment of
parliamentary bribery, 545. Appointed
to be chief adviser to the Queen during
William's stay in Ireland, 598. Animo-
sity of the Whigs against him, 718. His
mortification at the promotion of Sidney
to the Secretaryship, 7Sa Obtains in-
formation of a Jacobite plot, 726. Sends
his son to intercept the vessel containing
the messengers of the conspirators, 726.
Caillemot, Count de; appointed Colonel
of a Huguenot raiment under Schom-
berg, 412. His share in the battle of the
Boyne, 630. Mortally wounded, 632.
Calendar, ecclesiastical ; revised by the Ec-
clesiastical Commission, 473.
Calvin, John ; his observance of the festival
of ChristnruM, 249.
Calvinism; leaning of the Low Church party
towards, 94.
Calvmistic Church government. See Pres-
byterians.
CalvinisU of Scotland, 249. See Presby-
terians.
Cambon, M. ; appointed to the command
of one of the Huguenot regiments under
Schomberg, 412.
Cambridge; population of, at the tioie of
the Revolution of 1688, 41.
Cambridge University; its disgust at the
proceedings of the Whigs respecting the
Bill of Indemnity, 536. Its sympathy
with their victims, 536.
Cameron, Sir Ewan, of Lochiel ; his sur-
name of the Black, 319, 320. His perso-
nal appearance, his character, and singular
talents, 320. His patronage of literature,
321. His homage to the house of Ar-
gyle, 321. Joins the Cavaliers, 321.
Knighted by James II., 321. Singular
compliment paid to him in the English
Court, 322. His treatment of the Sheriff
of Invemessshire, 322. His dread of the
restoration of the house of Argyle, 322.
The gathering of the insurrectionary dans
at his house, 330. Opposes the proposi-
tion of Dundee to induce the clans to
submit to one command, 339. Macdo-
nald of Glengarry quarrels with him, .340,
341. Assembles his clan to assist Dun-
dee in Athol, 355. His advice to hazard
a battle at Kiliiecrankie, 357. Influence
of his physical prowess, 359. Endeavours
to persuade Dundee not to hazard his life
in battle, 359. Charges at the head of
his men in the thickest of the fight, 360.
Proposes to give Mackay battle again,
372. Overruled, 373. Retires to Ijo-
cliabcr in ill humour, 373. Induces the
claits to promise to reassemble, 683. Ao-
cidi -"tally wounded, 684, 685.
THE THIBD VOLUME.
733
Camcrons ; their dread of the restoration of
the power of the house of Argyle, 322.
Sir Ewan Cameron, 319, et seq.
Cameronlan regiment; raised by the Earl
of Angus, 344. Its first Lieutenant
Colonel, Clcland, 345. Its rigid Puri-
tanism, 345. Its chaplain shields, 345.
Ordered to be stationed at Dunkeld, 374.
Attacked by the Highlanders, 375. Re-
pulses them, 376.
Campbells, the ; jealousy of the Camerons
of the ascendency of the, 3 1 5. Tlie ambi-
tion of Mac Callum More, 316. His
influence, 316. The Marquess of Argyle
in 1638, 316. The Campbells defeated
at the battle of Inverlochy, 317. Earl
Archibald of Argyle, 317. His son, 318.
Insurrections of the clans hostile to the,
330. Disarmed and disorganized, 343.
Cannon, General ; commands the Irish foot
at Killiecrankie, 355. His position in the
field, 358. His command of the High-
landers after the death of Dundee, 370.
His hesitations and blunders, 370. In-
creasing disorders in his camp, 372. Some
of the Highland chiefs quit the camp,
373. Attacks the Cameronians at Dun-
keld and is repulsed, 377. His High-
landers Iteve for their homes, 377. He
departs with his Irish troops to the Isle
of Mull, 377. Becomes second in com-
mand to Buchan, 683. Escapes in his
shirt from the surprise of Strathspey, 684.
Canterbury, Archbishopric of; its former
importance compared with that of York,
484.
Capel, Sir Henry ; appointed a Commis-
sioner of the Treasury, 21. Signs the
warrant for the arrest of Clarendon, 605.
Carlingford; destruction of, 420.
Carmichael, Lord ; sent by William as Com-
missioner to the General Assembly of the
Church of Scotland, 708.
Carstairs; his abilities and character, 297.
Confidence reposed in him by William
III., 297. Named chaplain to their
Majesties for Scotland, 298.
Cartwright, Bishop of Chester, 74. Follows
James II. to Ireland, 166. Sworn of tbe
Privy Council, 175. H is death, 221.
Castle Drummond, 365.
Castlemaine ; impeached and sent to the
Tower, 5U.'
Catechism, the Longer and Shorter, of the
Scottish Church, 690.
Catinat ; marclies with a French army into
Savoy, 7ia
Cavaliers; their torment and ruin of dis-
senting divines, 83. Their sanguinary
proscriptions, 577.
Cavan ; migration of the Protestants of, to
Snniskillen, 163. Victories of the £n-
niskilleners in, 226.
Cavanagh ; his Kerry men, 200.
Cavendish, Lady ; presented to William and
Mary, 2. Her romance, 2. note. Her
description of the Court on the evening of
the proclamation, 2.
Celtic clans of Scotland. See Highlanders.
Cibber, CoUey ; his Nonjuror, 467.
Cirencester ; alarming conduct of the troops
at, 5.
Citters, Van; his long residence in England,
535.
Civil List ; the, of the seventeenth century,
556, 551, 558.
Charlemont; arrival of James II. at, 184.
Wretched condition of, 184.
Charles Frederick, Duke of Wirtemberg;
commands the Danish mercenaries at the
battle of the Boyne, 625. 631, 632. Joins
Marlborough at Cork, 678. His dispute
with Marlborough, 678. The quarrel
accommodated, 679.
Charles I. ; his judges and executioners ex-
cluded from the benefits of the Act of
Grace of WillUm III., 576.
Charles II. ; his indolence and fondness for
pleasure, 13. His revenue, 35. His vi-
vacity and good nature, 50. Maladmi-
nistration during his reign, 61. His ig-
nominious dependence on France, 62.
Treatment of Scotland during his reign,
255. Proposes a commercial treaty be*
tween England and Scotland, 255. Offers
to mediate between the Scottish Parlia-
ment and England, 256.
Charles II., of Spain; joins the coalition
against France, 122. Accused by Lewis
of leaguing with heretics, 125. Answer
of Charles, 126.
Charleville ; muster of the Englishry at, 139.
Taken from the ProtesUnts by the Ro-
man Catholics, 160.
Chateau Renaud, Admiral Count de ; skir*
mislies with the English fleet in Bantry
Bay, 201. Returns to Brest, 202.
Chichester, family of; their castle at Bel*
fast, 616.
Chimney Tax. See Hearth Money.
China, porcelain of; origin of the taste for»
in England, 56.
Christmas; festival of, reobserved by the
Calvinists of Geneva, 249.
Chrysostom; deprivation of, referred to^
102.
Church of England; Arminianism and Cal-
vinism in the, 94. ** Rabbling** of the
Episcopalian clergy in Scotland, 248,
249, 250. Form of notice served on
734
INDEX TO
them, 851. Wish of Low Churchmen
to preserve Episcopacy in Scotland, ^8.
Opinions of William III. about Church
government in Scotland, 259. Compar-
ative strength of religious parties in Scot«
land, 861. Episcopacy abolished in Scot-
land, *^S7. An Ecclesiastical Commission
issued, 470. Proceedings of the Commis-
sion, 471. See High Church ; Low
Church.
Church of Scotland ; a church established
by law odious to Scotchmen, 847. Le-
gislation respecting the, 688. The law
fixing the ecclesiastical constitution of
Scotland, 690. The Confession of Faith,
and the Longer and Shorter Catechism.
690. The synodieal polity reestablished,
691. The power given to the sixty de-
posed ministers, 691. Patronage abo-
lished, 694. General acquiescence in the
new ecclesiastical polity, 700. Meeting
of the General Assembly, 708.
Churchill, John, Baron (afterwards Duke
of Marlborough) ; created Earl of Marl>
borough, 121. See Marlborough, Earl of
Churchmen ; their determination not to
submit to supercilious and uncharitable
Puritans, 92.
Claim of Right ; the, of the Scottish Con-
vention, 287. The clause abolishing
episcopacy in Scotland inserted, 889.
Clans, Celtic, of Scotland. See High-
landers.
Clarges, Sir Thomas ; his notion of a vote
of thanks to the King, 569.
Clarendon, Lord Chancellor; his impeach-
ment, 13.
Clarendon, Henry Hyde, Earl of; refuses
to take the Oath of Allegiance to William
in., 33. His diRgraceful conduct, 586.
Evidence of his being deeply concerned in
the Jacobite schemes of insurrection, 599.
Receives a warning from William, 599.
Arrested and lodged in the Tower, 605.
Released and joins a Jacobite conspiracy,
721.
CIcland, William ; his share in the insur-
rection at Bothwell Bridge, 276. His
enmity to the Viscount Dundee, 276.
His attainments and character, 276. Ap-
pointed Lieutenant Colonel of the Came-
ronian regiment, 345. Repulses the High-
landers at Dunkeld, 375. Shot dead in
the streets, 376.
Clelands, the, 276. note.
Clergy ; their refusal to join in the triumph
of William and Mary, Causes of this, 4.
Their zeal for the doctrine of nonresistance,
4. Deputation of the London, to welcome
William 1 1 1., 70. Relieved from the ne-
eeauty of lubscribing the Artielci, 94.
Their claims to consideration fiivourably
regarded by the Whigs 103. I04. Vebe-
mently opposed by the Tories, 104, 105.
Compelled by Act of Parliament to take
the oaths of fealty to the King and Queen,
114^ Exert themselves to sustain the
spirit of the people of Londonderry, 195.
The Irish Protestant clergy turned out of
their livings, 209. An Act passed to
enable the fugitive Irish clergy to bold
preferment in England, 284. **' Rabbling"
the •« curates" in Scotland, 249. 251.
Divisions among the Hi^ Church party
respecting the subject of the oaths, 440,
44 1 . Arguments for and against taking the
oaths, 44 1 . 445. The •* swearing clergy ,*
447. The absurd theory of government vf
the clergy, 447. A great majority of them
take the oaths, 451. General character of
the nonjuring clergy, 464. Their tem-
perate Convocation,476, 477. Ill affected
towards the Kinjr, 477. Their exaspera-
tion against the Dissenters by the proceed-
ings of the Scotch Presbyterians, 481.
Constitution of Convocation, 483. The
state of the London and country- clergy-
men com]>ared, 493. Indulgence shown
by the King to the nonjuring prelates, 554.
The clergy of Scotland ordered to publish
the proclamation, and pray for William
and Mary, 287.
Clifford; his discovery of parliamentary
bribery, 545.
Clifford, Mrs., the Jacobite agent, 59^.
602, 603.
Clonmel ; abandoned by the Irish troops
of James at the approach of William,
662.
"Club," the; formed in Edinburgh. 29S.
Its members, 298. Its ascendency in the
Scottish Parliament, 348. Its introduc-
tion of a law aimed at the DalrympK^
349. Its intrigues, 377, 378. Decline
of its influence, 378. In a minority,
687. Becomes a laughing stock, 6S7.
Tlie coalition between the Club and the
Jacobites dissolved, 695. The chiefs be-
tray each other, 697.
Clydesdale; "rabbling** of the clergy in,
250.
Coalition, the great, against France ; form-
ation of, 122. Tlie states forming tlie
coalition, 1 22. Victor Amadcus joins it,
710.
Coin, base; issue of, by James II. in Ire-
land, 216.
Coldstreams ; the, at the skirmish of Wal-
court, 437.
Coll of the Cows, 325.
THE THIRD VOLUME.
735
Collects; the, as altered by Dean Patrick,
476.
Collier, Jeremy, 459. Becomes a nonjuror,
459. His service to English literature,
459. His talents and character, 459.
His faults, 460.
Cologne; occupied by the Elector of Ba-
varia, 4S7.
Commissariat, English ; frauds of the, 424.
Committee of Murder of the House of
Lords, 511,512.
Common Prayer, Book of; sublimity of the
diction of the, 475. Compared with the
Latin Liturgies of the Roman Catholic
Church, 475. Altered by the Ecclesias-
tical Commissioners, 476.
Commons. See House of Commons.
Comprehension; the question of, 80.
Comprehension Bill ; the, of Nottingham,
80. Its history, 89. Allowed to drop by
general concurrence, 90. Review of its
provisions, 90, 91. Dread and aversion
of the Dissenters for, 95. Division of the
Whigs respecting the Comprehension
Bill, 99. Debate in the House of Lords
respecting its last clause, 110. The amend-
ment lost, 112. Sent down to the Com-
mons, 112. Proposal to refer it to Con-
vocation, 112, US. The plan of, 468.
Causes which conspired to infliime the
parochial clergy against Comprehension,
481—483.
Compton, Bishop of London; heads a de-
putation to welcome William III., 70.
His support of Nottingham's Toleration
and Comprehension Bills, 91. His letter
to Archbishop Sancroft respecting these
bills, 91. note. Occupies the place of
the primate at the coronation of William
and Mary, 118. His discontent at the
news of Tillotson's prospect of the pri-
macy, 487. Presides at the meeting of
Convocation, 489.
Confession of Faith of the Scottish Church,
690. Required to be ^igned by every
office bearer in every University of Scot-
land, 694.
Confiscations of the property of the Pro-
testants in Ireland, 206.
Coningsby, Thomas; appointed Paymaster
General of William's army in Ireland,
618. 627.
Constable, Lord High, 118.
Conventicle Act; its provisions, 82. Its
harshness relaxed by the Toleration Act,
82.
Convention, the. See House of Common*.
Convention, Scottish; summoned by Wil-
liam III., 248. Elections for the, 248.
Letter from William III. to, 262.267.
Meeting of the, 271. Election of the
Duke of Hamilton as president, 273.
Character of Scottish statesmen of that
period, 273. Appointment of a Com-
mittee of Elections, 274. The Conven-
tion summons the Castle of Edinburgh
to surrender, 274. Receives a letter
from King James, 277. Reada the letter
from William III. and that from King
James, 278. Passes a vote binding itself
to continue sitting notwithstanding any
mandate in James's letter to the contrary,
278. ContenU of James's letter, 279.
Agitation and close of the sitting,
279. Flight of Viscount Dundee, 28a
Tumultuous sitting of the Convention,
281. Returns a letter of thanks to King
William, 282. A Committee appointed
to frame a plan of government, 283.
Andrew Mackay appointed general of
the forces of the Convention, 284. Re-
solutions proposed by the Committee,
declaring that King James had forfeited
his crown, 286. William and Mary
proclaimed, 287. The Claim of Right,
287—291. The Coronation Oath revised,
291. Discontent of the Covenanters at
the manner in which the Convention had
decided the question of ecclesiastical
polity, 293. Reassembling of the Con-
vention, 347. Act turning the Convention
into a Parliament, 347. Act recognising
William and Mary as King and Queen,
347. Ascendency of the "Club," 348.
The Act of Incapacitation carried, 350.
Conflict between the Convention and the
Lord High Commissioner Hamilton,
350, 351. The Parliament adjourned,
365.
Convocation : address of Parliament to Wil-
liam III. to summon, 113. Appointed
to meet, 469. 476. The clergy ill affected
towards King William, 477. Constitu-
tion of the Convocation, 483. The Con-
vocations of Canterbury and York, 483^
The two Houses, 484. Election of mem*
hers, 485. The Convocation meets, 488.
Beveridge*s Latin sermon, 489. The
High Church party a majority in the
Lower House, 489. The King's warrant
and message, 491. Difference between
the two Houses, 491. Presents an ad-
dress to tlie King, 492. The Lower House
proves unmanageable, 492. Prorogued,
494.
Conyngham, Sir Albert ; his share in the
battle of the Boyne, 626. His seat near
the Boyne, 621. 626.
Cork ; iu present state compared with iis
condition at the time of the Revolution,
736
INDEX TO
178. ViMt of James II. to, 171, 172.
Besieged by Marlborough, 679. The Old
Fort, 679. The Cathedral, 679. The
Mall, 679. Grafton Street, 68a Capi-
tulation of the garrison, 680.
Cornish, Henry ; his attainder reversed,
S82.
Coronation of William and Mary, 118. The
coronation medal, 120.
Coronation Oath ; discussion on the bill for
settling, 115. IleTisal of the, by the
Convention of Scotland, 291.
Corporation Act ; bill for repealing the,
109. The debate adjourned and not
revived, 110.
Corporation Bill ; introduced into the Com-
mons, 517. Sachevereirs clause, 517.
Sir Robert Howard's motion, 518, Tu-
multuous debate on the bill, 522. The
odious clauses lost, 522.
Corruption, parliamentary ; rise and pro>
gress of, in England, 541.
Corryarrick, 325. 329.
Cosmas Atticus ; deprivation of, referred to,
102.
Cotton, Sir Robert ; his opinion on the Co-
ronation Oath Bill, 117. note.
Council, Privy; the first, of William III.
sworn in, 15.
CoTenanters ; disgust of rigid, at the reve-
rence paid to the holidays of the Church,
249. llie Church clergymen *< rabbled**
by the Covenanters, 249, 250. Fears of
the cider Covenanters respecting the pro-
ceedings of their riotous brethren, 251.
Their outrages in Glasgow, 252. Tlicir
inflexible pertinacity of principle, 273.
They threaten the life of Viscount Dun-
dee, 275. 277. Their singularly savage
and implacable temper, 275. The Cove-
nanters from Ayrshire and I^narkshire
called to arms in Edinburgh, 282. Their
discontent at the manner in which the
Convention had decided the question of
ecclesiastical polity, 29B. Their scruples
about taking up arms for King William,
313. Their deadly hatred of Dundee,
343. Thii'iT sufferings at his hands, 344.
Determination of the majority not to
take up arms, 344.
Coventry ; Commissioner of the Treasury,
13.
Crane ; bears a letter from James to tho
Scottish Convention, 277. Admitted to
the sitting, 278.
Crawford, Earl of; appointed President of
the Scottish Parliament, 295. His rigid
Presbyterianism, 295. His character,
296. His poverty, 296.
Creaghts, or llapparecs, of Ulster, 673.
Cromwell, Oliver; hb poutioo id the go-
▼ernment compared with that of a Prime
Minister, IS. His wisdom and liberality
respecting the freedom of trade with
Scotland, 254.
Crone (a Jacobite messenger from St. Ger-
mains) ; sets out with despatches from
Engluid, 591. Betrayed by his com-
panion. Fuller, 591. Arrested, and
brought to Whitehall, 592. Brought to
trial, 593. 601. Found guilty, 60SL
Visited by Secretary Nottingham in New-
gate, 603. Respited for a week, 603L
Brought before the Privy Council, to
whom he furnishes important information,
603.
Cross, Godfrey ; executed as a traitor, 720,
721.
Crosses, fiery, in Scotland, 330.
Crum, Castle of; besieged by Viacouot
Mountcashel, 242.
Cumberland, Dukedom of; given to Prince
George of Denmark, 1 20l
Cunningham, Colonel ; arrives at London-
derry with reinforcements for the garrison,
189. Treacherously dissuaded by the
governor, Lundy, trotn. landing, 190.
Sent to the Gate House, 225.
Cutts, John ; commands a regiment at the
battle of the Boyne^ 624.
D*Alembert, 85.
Dalkeith, Earl of, son of the Duke of Moo-
mouth; his marriage to the Lady Hen-
rietta Hyde, 1 18. note.
Dalrymple. family of; its talents, misfor-
tunes and misdeeds, 263, 264.
Dalrymple, Sir James, of Stair ; chief ad-
viser of William III. on Scotch matters,
263. Tales told of him, 264. His high
attainments and station, 264. Sketch of
his career, 264. His letter respecting the
abolition of episcopacy in Scotland, 289.
Appointed President of the Court of Ses-
sion, 296. Jealousy of the Club at his
prosperity and power, 349. Takes bis
place as President of the Court of Session,
378.
Dalrymple, Sir John; his services rewarded
by a remission of the forfeiture of his
father*s estates, 265. His talents and
character, 266. Frames the resolution of
the Scottish Convention declaring the
throne vacant, 286. Appointed a Com-
missioner to carry the instrument of
government of the Scotch Convention to
London, 291. Appointed Lord Advo-
cate, 296. Law aimed by the Club at
his father and him, 349. His answer to
the asperity of Montgomery, 688.
THE Tlimn VOLDilE.
737
Daly ; one of the judges of the Iri»li Com-
mon Pleas, ISO. OHends the Irish House
of Commons, 307.
Danby, Thomas, Earl of; his impeachment,
16. Accepts the Presidency of the Coun-
cil under William III., 16. Public feel-
ing regardinf; him, 16. Wis inveterate
enmity to Halifax, 63. He withdraws
from Court, 63. Created Marquess of
Caermarthen, 121. Sec Caermarthen,
Marquess of.
Danish mercenaries at the battle of the
Boyne, 6Se5. Dreaded by the Irish, 625.
631, 632.
Dartmouth, George Legge, £larl of; takes
the Oath of Allegiance to William III.,
33. His traitorous conduct, 5S6. Joins
the Jacobite conspiracy, 72 1 .
Delaraere, Henry Booth, Lord, 5. Ap-
pointed Chancellor of the Exchequer, 20.
His character, 65. His jealousy of Mor-
daunt, 65. Resigns the Chancellorship
of the Exchequer, 539. Created Earl of
Warrington, 539. His bitter complaints,
539.
Dennis, Saint, battle of; reference to, 25.
De Ruyter, Admiral, 61.
Derry. See Londonderry.
Derry, Walker, Bishop of. Sec Walker.
Devonshire; rising in, to repel the threa-
tened invasion of the French, 651, 652.
Devonshire, William Cavendish, Earl of;
appointed to the High Stewardship, 23.
His attachment to tlie liberties of Eng-
land, 23. Absents himself from Parlia-
ment during the discussion on the Sa-
cramental Test, 110. Created a Knight
of the Garter, 120. Case of, examined by
the House of Lords, 384. Tlie sentence
of the King*s Bench reversed, 384.
Diarmid; the children of, 316. 318.
Directory, the, of the Scottish Church,
690.
Dispen^ng power, the, 500.
Dissenters; the first legal indulgence granted
to, 69. Their gratitude for it, 72. Le-
niency with which they were regarded by
Low Churchmen, 73. Peculiar grievances
of their clergy, 82. The Act of Unifor-
mity, 82. The Five Mile Act, 82. Tlie
Conventicle Act, 82. Their dread and
aversion of Comprehension, 95. Influence
of the dissenting minister over his flock,
97. Value of his position, in a worldly
view, compared with that of a chaplain
of the Church of England, 98. Attempt
to relieve the Dissenters from the, 99.
Division lists; first printed and circulated,
535.
Dodwell, Professor Henry ; his absurd at-
I tempts to distinguish between the depri-
I vutiuns of 1559 and those of 1689. 103.
! Included in the Act of Attainder of the
i Irish Parliament, 218. Becomes a non-
j juror, 461. His erudition, 461. His
singular works, 461.
I Dohna, Christophe Count dc; his "Me-
I moires Originaux sur le R^gne et la Cour
I de Frederic I., Roi de Prusse," quoted,
I 53. note.
I Donegal ; the Roman Catholics defeated at,
226.
Donore, 621. James takes his position at,
622.
Dorset, Charles Sackville, Eau of; ap-
pointed Lord Chamberlain to William
III., 23. His generosity to Dry den, 23,
24.
Douglas ; great meeting of the Covenanters
in the parish church o(, 344.
Douglas, Andrew ; Master of the Phoenix,
assists in relieving Londonderry, 235.
Douglas, James; commands the Scotch
Guards at the battle of the Boyne, 624.
629.
Dover, Henry Jermyn, Lord ; accompanies
James 11. to Ireland, 166. Receives
William*s promise of pardon, 713.
Drogheda, port of, 621. Its condition at
present and at the time of the Revolution,
621,622. Held by James II., 622. Sur-
renders to the English without a blow,
633.
Dromore ; the Protestants make a stand at,
163.
Drowes, river; Irish forces encamped on
the, 241.
Dryden, John ; deposed from the I-jiureatc-
ship, 23, 24. Treated with generosity by
the Lord Chamberlain Dorset, 24. His
piteous complaints, 24. Contempt of the
honest Jacobites for his winnings, 23.
His conversation with Charles II. a)K)ut
poetry, 50. Tlie origin of Dry den's
medal, 50. note. His dedication to the
play of Arthur, 655.
Dublin ; TyrconneFs motto on the Castle
fla^, 154. Entry of James II. into, 173.
Its condition at the time of the Revolu*
tion, 173. Its present graceful and stately
appearance, 174. Wretched state of Dub-
lin Castle, 174. The new buildings of
Tyrconnel, 174. A proclamation issued
convoking a Parliament, 175. Factions
at the Castle, 177. Alarm of» at the news
from the North, 245. The French soldiers
billeted on Protestants in, 585. Fearful
agitation in, on the news of the landing of
William, 617. The ProlestanU forbidden
to leave their homes after nightfall, 617.
VOL. ni.
3 H
738
INDEX TO
The gaols and public buildings crammed
with prisoners, 617. Reports in the city
respecting the battle of the Boyne, 638.
Tlic evil tidings reach the city, 639.
Arrival of James and the remnant of
the defeated army, 639. Evacuated by
the French and Irish troops, 641. A
provisional government formed to wel-
come King William, 642. 'William*s entry
into the city, 643.
Dublin University; fellows and scholars
ejected from, and allowed as a favour to
depart in safety, 221, 222.
Duinhe Wassel ; Highland title of, 305.
Duleek, pass of; occupied by the Iiish,
630. 637. And by the army of William,
638,
Dumont*s Corps Universe! Diplomatique,
127. note.
Duncannon, fort of ; taken by William III.,
662.
Dunciad, the, 370. 389.
Dundalk ; Schomberg*8 entrenchments near,
425.
Dundee, John Graham, Viscount ; his com-
mand of the Scottish troops stationed near
Watford to oppose the Dutch, 268. His
courage and military skill, 268. His troops
disbanded, 268. His reception by James
II. at Whitehall, 269. Greets William
at St. James's, 269. Absurd story about
William III. and Dundee, 2G9. note. He
returns to Scotland under an escort of
cavalry, 270. Prevails on the Duke of
Gordon to hold the Castle of Edinburgh
for King James, 271. 274. His life
threatened by the Covenanters, 275. His
enemy, William Cleland, 276. Applies
to the Convention for assistance, 277.
His flight from Edinburgh, 280. His
fear of assassination, 280. Succeeds in
raising the clans hostile to the Campbells,
330. Surprises Perth, and makes some
Whig gentlemen prisoners, 330. His
dilHculties with the Highlanders, 334.
Causes of those difficulties, 334 — 338.
Calls a Council of War to endeavour to
induce the clans to submit to one com-
mand, 339. Supported by the Lowland
Lords, Dunfermline and Dunkeld, 339.
Uetires to his country seat in Scotland,
32G. Letter from James to him inter-
ccpted, 327. Ordered to be arrested, 328.
Escapes to the camp of Macdonald of
Keppoeh, 328. His proposal for placing
the clans under one command rejected in
council, 339. Api)lies to King James for
assistance, 342. The assistance promised,
342. The war suspended, 342. Deadly
hatred of the Covenanters for Dundee,
343. Summons the clans for ao expedi-
tion to Athol, 355. SeU forth for Athol,
S55. Joined by Cannon with the Irish
foot, 355. Arrives at Blair Castle, 357.
Defeats the King's troops at KiUlecrankie,
360, 361. Mortally wounded, 362. Ef-
feet of his death, 366. His burial place,
367.
Dunfermline, James Seton* £arl of; sup-
ports Dundee, 339.
Dunkeld ; attack of the Highlanders on the
Cameronian regiment at, 375.
Dunkeld, James Galloway, Lord ; supports
Dundee, 339.
Dunlop, the Presbyterian minister, 697.
Duras, Marshal; his devastation of the
Palatinate, 122.
Durfey, Tom, 50.
Dutch ; their joy and festivities on the se-
cession of William III., 2. Favours be-
stowed on those who stood highest in the
King's esteem, 24. The Dutch army in
England suppresses the revolt of the sol-
diers at Ipswich, 41, 43. Preference of
William III. for his Dutch favourites, 59.
Their fidelity to him, 59. Dutch soldien
at the coronation of William and Mary,
119. Unfavourable opinion entertained
of them by the Presbyterians, 292. note.
Their murmurings at William's partialitj
for England, 435. Ill treated by Tor-
rington at the battle of Beachy Head, 607.
Their l)ravery, 608. The Dutch Blues
at the battle of the Boyne, 6ii5. 627. 6;lo,
631, 632.
Easter Monday ; sitting of Parliament on,
113.
Ecclesiastical polity ; views of William 1 1 1,
respecting, 74. Opinions of the Earl of
Nottingham concerning, 79.
Ecclesiastical Commission ; one issued, 470.
Their proceedings, 471.
Edinburgh ; state of, at the time of ibe
Revolution, 252. The Castle held by the
Duke of Gordon for James XL, 252. 'Die
College of Justice disarm themselre:? on
William's proclamation being issued, £5'J.
Arrival of Covenanters from the West,
253. The Bishop of Edinburgh ofiiciati-s
at the Scottish Convention, 271. Tlie
Castle summoned by the Convention to
surrender, 274. Refusal of Gordon to
submit to the summons, 274, 275. The
Earl of Lcven calls the people to anns,
282. Gordon urged by the Jaoubitt^
to fire on the city, 283. He refuses, 2S:J.
William and Mary proclaimed in Edio-
bnrgh, 287. Formation of the " Ciub,^
298. The 'J olbooth, 3 1 8. 328. Surremier
of the Castle to King William's troops,
THE THIBD VOLUME.
739
346. The session of ParliniTient at Edin-
burgh, 347. j Panic in Edinburgh at the
news of the battle of Killiecrankie, 365.
Sittings of the Courts of Justice rccum-
mcnced, 378.
Eland, Lord ; his defence of his father
Halifai in the Commons, 410.
Elections, Committee of; appointed by the
Scottish Convention, 274.
Elizabeth, Queen ; the schism of her reign,
95. Her rejection of the bishops, 102.
Elliot, the Jacobite, 723. Arrested, 727.
Ely, Bishop of; joins the Jacobite con-
spiracy, 721.
Ely Cathedral, 41.
Emigration of the English from Ireland,
135.
England ; the Toleration Act a specimen
of the peculiar virtues and vices of En-
glish legislation, 84. The practical ele-
ment always prevails in the English
legislature, 85. Declares war against
France, 1 28. Discontent in England at
the news of the arrival of James in
Ireland, 175. Effect produced in Eng-
land at the news of the persecutions
in Ireland, 223. Question of a Union
between England and Scotland raised,
253. Hatred of the English for the
Highlanders in 1745, 310. A strange
rellux of public feeling in their favour,
310. Concludes a treaty with the
States General, 436. A general fast
proclaimed, 552. Alarming symptoms of
a Jacobite outbreak in the north of Eng-
land, 589. Danger of invasion and in-
surrection, 603. Tourville*s fleet in the
Channel, 603. France successful on
land and at sea, 609. r Alarm of England,
610. Spirit of the nation, 610. Anti-
pailiy of the English to the French, 611.
655. Attempts of Tourville to make a
descent on England, 649. Tlie country
in arms, 652, 653.
Enniskillen ; one of the principal strong-
holds of the Englishry at the time of the
Hcvolution, 139. Its situation and ex-
tent at that period, 140. Its boasted
Protestantism, 140. Its determination
to resist Tyrconnel's two regiments being
quartered on them, 140. Its arrange-
ments for defence, 141. Gustavus Ha-
milton appointed governor by his towns-
men, 141. Sends a deputation to the
Earl of Mountjoy, 147. Operations of
the Irish troops against the Enniskilleners,
241. lleceives assistance from Kirke,
242. Colonel Wolseley and Lieutenant
Colonel Berry, 242. Defeat the Irish at
Newton Butler, 243. Actions of the
3 D
Enniskilleners, 226, 227. Bravery of
the Enniskillen dragoons, 626. Their
part in the battle of the Boyne, 633.
Episcopacy abolished in Scotland, 287.
Episcopalians of Scotland ; their complaints,
701. Their contempt for the extreme
Presbyterians, 702. See Clergy, Scottish ;
Presbyterians.
Equity ; gradually shaping itself into a
refined science, 22.
Erne, Lough, 140, 141.
Error, writs of, 385.
Essex, Arthur Capel, Earl of; Committee
of the House of Lords to examine into
the circumstances of his death, 379.
Estates of the Uealm ; their annual grant
respecting the government of the sol-
diery, 47,
Eucharist ; the question of the posture at
the, discussed by the Ecclesiastical Com-
missioners, 472.
Euli-r, 85.
Eustace ; his Kildare men, 200.
Exchequer, Court of, in Ireland ; Stephen
nice appointed Chief Baron of the, 130.
Abuses of, under Rice, 131.
Exchequer Chamber; coronation feast in
the, 118.
Exclusion Bill ; reference to the, 105.
Evertsen, Admiral of the Dutch auxiliary
fleet ; joins Torrington at St. Helens,
604. His bravery at the battle of Beachy
Head, 608. Takes the part of prosecutor
at the trial of Torrington, 71 7.
Farquharsons, the; their arrival at the camp
at Blair, 369.
Fast, public; proclaimed by William III.,
552.
Fens ; state of the, at the period of the
Revolution, 41. Their population, 41.
Ferguson, Robert ; appointed to a sinecure
in the Excise, 26. His seditious cha-
racter, 554. His services rewarded by
government, 554. Eagerly welcomed by
the Jacobites, 555. Becomes agent be-
tween James and Montgomery, 682.
Feversham; orders the disbanding of tho
royal army, 268.
Finch, Sir Heneage; his opinion on the
Coronation Oath Bill, 117. note. His
attempt to defend his conduct as counsel
against Russell, 381. Refusal of the
House to hear him, 382.
Fitton, Alexander, Lord Chancellor of
Ireland ; his character, 129. His mode
of dispensing justice, 1 30.
Fitzwilliam, John, canon of Windsor ; be-
comes a nonjuror, 463. His intimacy
with Lord Russell, 463.
2
740
IKDEX TO
Five Mile Act ; a grievance to the dis-
sentiag clergy, 82.
Fleet, the English ; naval skirmish between
the English and French fleets, 201.
Battle of Beachy Head, 608.
Fletcher, Andrew, of Saltoun ; extract from
his work, 254. note. His erroneous politi-
cal opinions, 299. Joins the Club, 299.
Fleurus, battle of, 609. The news carried
to William in Ireland, 661.
Foreign affairs; direction of, reserved to
himself by William III., 14. Sir Wil-
liam Temple, 14. Ably managed by
William, 67.
Fort William at Inverness built, 685.
Fowler, Edward ; appointed one of the
Ecclesiastical Commissioners, 470.
Foy le, river ; flocks of wild swans on the, 1 42.
Bridge over the, 144. Lord Galmoy*s
encampment on the, 200.
Frampton, Bishop of Gloucester ; becomes
a nonjuror, 453.
France; European coalition against her
ascendency, 15. Declares war against the
States General, 38. Her military greatness
at the close of the 17 th century, 43. A
formidable enemy at the accession of Wil-
liam III., 62, Formation of the great
coalition against, 122. 436. War de-
clared against, 127. Assistance afforded
by her to James II., 165. Choice of a
French ambassador to accompany James,
167. Naval skirmish between the English
and Fronch fleets, 201. War raging all
round her, 436. Effect produced in
France by the news of the battle of the
Boy no, 643.
Frankenthal, plains of; devastated by Mar-
shal Duras, 123.
Frazers, the, 329. Their arrival at the
camp at Blair, 369.
" French are coming," the cry, 611.
French, the ; their mean opinion of the
Irish as soldiers, 665. The French army
of Lewis X 1 V. commanded by Marshal
Humicr.s 437. Its skirmish with the
Dutch and English at Walcourt, 437.
Friday, Black, 103.
Fuller, William (Jacobite messenger) ; his
early life, 590. Sent from St. Germains
with Jacobite despatches to England,
591. Betrays the cause of the Jacobites,
591.
Fync, Loch, 318.
Gaels. Sec Highlanders.
Galley slaves, 6^9, 650. 654. An incident
related of one, 654.
Galleys, the French, 649. Character of their
crews, 649, 650. 654.
Galmoy, Lord; his part in the tiege of
Londonderry, 200.
Gardening ; a favourite amusement of Wil-
liam III., 55, The gardeos of Hampton
Court, 56.
Garry, the river, 353. 357.
Garter,' the, given by James II. to Laozon,
165.*
George II.; nicknamed the Butcher, 310.
George IV.; his court at Holyrood, 312.
George, Prince of Denmark ; created Duke
of Cumberland, 120. Offers to accompany
William to Ireland, 600. Uopolitdy
treated by William, 601.
George, Prince of Hesse Darmstadt; bis
share in the battle of the Boyne, 635.
627.
Germanic federation ; joins the gteat coali-
tion, 122. Manifesto of^ declaring war
against France, 127.
Germany, Emperor of; concludes a treaty
with the States General, 436.
Gibbons, Grinling ; his carvings at Hamp-
ton Court, 56,
Ginkell, General ; sent to suppress the re-
volt of the Scotch reglmenU at Ipswidi,
41, 42. His share in the battle of the
Boyne, 625. Accompanies the King to
the siege of Limerick, 668.
Glasgow; the cathedral attacked by the
Covenanters, 252. Extent of the tovu,
256. Archbishop of, 284. 286.
GlengarifT, pass of, 138.
Glengarry ; his quarrel with a Lowland gen-
tleman, 684.
Glengarry ; its state at the time of tlie Re-
volution compared with its present ecu-
dition, 330.
Glenroy, Lake of, 325.
Gloucester, William, Duke of (son of the
Princess Anne); his birth and baptism,
395.
Godolphin, Sidney ; nominated Commis-
sioner of the Treasury, 20. His useful-
ness, 20. Hated by his colleagues 65.
His superiority over them in iinancial
knowledge, 65. His retirement from the
Treasury, 549.
Goldsmith, Oliver; his dislike for the High-
lands of Scotland at the time of the Revo-
lution, 302. His comparison of Holland
with Scotland, 302. note.
Gordon, Duke of; prevailed on by Dundee anJ
Balcarras to hold the Castle of Edinburgh
for King James, 271. 274. His commu-
nication with Dundee, 281. Requested
by the Jacobites to fire on the city, 283.
His refusal, 283. Besieged in the Castle
of Edinburgh, 346. Polite and facetious
messages between the besiegers and the
THE THIRD VOLUME.
741
besieged, 346. Surrenders the Castle to
William's troops, 347.
Gormanstown, Lord; his part in the siege
of Londonderry, 200.
Government; the Whig theory of, 11. The
first, of William III., 15. General mal-
administration from the Restoration to the
Revolution, 60. Absurd theory of^ as
taught by the clergy of the time of the
Revolution, 447.
Grace, Act of; the, of William IIL for po-
litical offences, 575. Distinctions be-
tween an Act of Grace and an Act of
Indemnitv, 575. The Act passed, 576.
579.
Grafton, Henry Fitzroy, Duke of; rumours
of his determination to join his uncle at
Saint Germains, 32. Takes the Oath of
Allegiance to William and Mary, 32. Car-
ries the King*s crown at the coron.ition,
1 1 8. Has the colonelcy of the First Re-
giment of Foot Guards conferred on him
by William, 678. Accompanies Marl-
borough on his expedition to the south of
Ireland, 678. Struck down at the assault
on Cork, 679.
Grameis, the lost epic Latin poem of Fhil-
lipps, 331. note.
Granard, Lord: one of the Peers of James's
Irish Parliament; enters his protest against
the repeal of the Act of Settlement, 213.
Grants, the, 329. Join Mackay, 334. Their
territory invaded by the Camerons, 340.
Join Sir Thomas Livingstone against the
Highlanders, 684.
Gustavus, King of Sweden, 49.
Gwyn, member of the House of Commons,
1 10. note.
Habeas Corpus Act; suspension of the, 47.
Sarcasm and invective caused by the mea-
sure, 48.
Hales, Sir Edward ; his impeachment for
high treason, 511. Committed to the
Tower, 511.
Halifax, George Savile, Marquess of; his
part in the proclamation of William and
Mary, 1. His remark on the reactionary
feeling of the people, 10. Takes charge
of the Privy Seal, 17. Public feeling re-
garding him, 17. Declines the offer of
the Great Seal, 21. His alarm at the re-
volt of the soldiers at Ipswich, 39. His
antipathy to Danby, 63. Load of public
business imposed on him, 64. His dis-
tractions, caused by the jealousies and
quarrels of his subordinates, 64, 65, Not
in the list of promotions at the coro-
nation, 121. His cautious policy, 121.
Calumnious accusation brought against
3 D
him, 148. Attacked by Howe in the
House of Commons, and by Monmouth
in the Lords, 407, 408. His letter to
Lady Russell, 409. Absolved by a ma-
jority of the Commons, 410. Retires from
the Speakership of the House of Lords,
496. Examined by the Murder Com-
mittee of the House of Lords, 512. De-
fended by Seymour in the Lower House
against the attacks of John Hampden,
515. Abatement of the animosity of the
House against him, 516. His resigpoa-
tion of the Privy Seal, 537, His retire-
ment from public business artfully alluded
to by Dryden in the dedication to Ar-
thur, 655.
Hamilton, Duke of, supported by the Whigs
in the Scottish Convention, 272. His
character, 272. Elected president of the
Convention, 273. His fierce address to
the members of the Convention, 281.
Declared Lord High Commissioner of
Scotland, 295. His discontent, 348. His
refusal to pass the Acts of the Conven-
tion, 350. His false, greedy character,
686. Saying of King William respect-
ing him, 686. His indignation at the
passing of the clause of the bill for fixing
the ecclesiastical constitution of Scotland,
which sanctioned the acts of the Western
fanatics, 692.
Hamilton, Anthony; severely wounded at
the battle of Newton Butler, 243.
Hamilton, Gustavus ; appointed governor of
Eniiiskillen, 141.
Hamilton, Richard; his foreign military
service, 151. His distinguished wit, 151.
Sworn of the Irish Privy Council, 151.
Sent to negotiate with Tyrconnel, 152.
His perfidy, 152. 154. His march into
Ulster with an army, 162. Terror of his
name, 163. Marches against the Pro-
testants of the North, 171. Rosen and
Maumont placed over bis head, 1 87. Ap-
pointed second in command at the siege
of Londonderry, 197. Takes the chief
command at the death of Maumont, 1 98.
Superseded in the chief command by
Count Rosen, 229. Rosen recalled, and
Hamilton again assumes the chief com-
mand, 232. His tricks and lies to dis-
courage the besieged, 232. His share in
the battle of the Boyne, 630, 6:H, 632.
Wounded, taken prisoner, and brought
before William, 634.
Hamilton, the Rev. Andrew, of Enniskillen,
141. note.
Hampden, John; presides at a committee
to present an address to William III. on
the barbarities of Lewis of France, 127.
3
742
INDEX TO
His power and pro«;perity, 513. His mn-
levolcnce, 513. His disgraceful appear-
ance before the Murder Committee of the
House of Lords, 514. His bitter speech
in a committee of the whole House of
Commons, 514. Excluded from the new
House of Commons at the general elec-
tion of 1690, 536.
Hampden, Richard; appointed a Com-
missioner of the Treasury, 21. His ob-
jections to Aaron Smith as Solicitor to
the Tieasury, 26. Appointed Chancellor
of the Exchequer, 549.
Hampton Court } removal of the Court to,
54. The palace of Cardinal Wolsey, 55,
The gardens and buildings of William 1 1 1.,
56.
Harbord, William, member for Launceston ;
informs the House of the revolt of the
Scotch troops, 40.
Harlots ; the brokers of the Court of Charles
II., 61.
Hastings's regiment, 355. Its unbroken
order at Killiecrankic, 361. 364. At the
battle of the Boyne, 624.
«* Hear, hear,** origin of, in Parliament, 30.
Heartli money, or chimney tax ; its unfair-
ness, 36. Abolished at the request of
William III., .37.
Hebrides ; possessions of the Macdonalds in
the, [i\5,
Heidelberg ; destroyed by the French un-
der Marshal Duras, li?4.
Heinsius, Anthony, Pensionary of Hol-
land, 67. Causes of the aversion with
which he regarded France, 68. His cor-
respondence with William III., 68. His
importance after the death of William,
69.
Henderson, Major; takes the command of
the Cameron ians after the death of Colo-
nel Cleland, 376. Mortally wounded,
376.
Herbert, Arthur, Rear Admiral of Eng-
land; appointed first Commissioner of the
Admiralty, 20. His services to his coun-
try, 20. Skirmishes with the French
fleet in Bantry Bay, 201. Vote of thanks
to Herbert passed, 202. Returns with
his squadron to Portsmouth, 433.
Hewson ; the Scotch fanatic of London-
derry, 196.
Hickes, George, Dean of Worcester ; be-
comes a nonjuror, 458. His learning,
45S. His views of passive obedience,
458. His brother John, 458, His bi-
gotry, 459,
Hickes John, 458.
High Church party ; the, of the reign of
William III., 69, Origin of the term,
69. Tenderness of their r^ard for
James II., 71. Their distaste for the
Articles, 94. Their leaning towards Ar-
minianism, 94. Their numerical strenj^th
in the House of Commons, 113. The
High Church clergy divided on the
subject of the Oaths of Supremacy and
Allegiance, 440, 441. They constitute a
majority of the Lower House of Convo-
cation, 489. Their refusal to deliberate
on any plan of comprehension, 493.
High Commission Court, 10. Its de-
crees every where acknowledged to be
nullities, 382.
Highlands'; breaking out of war in the, 300.
Their state at that period, 300, SOI. Cap-
tain Burt*8 descriptions of them, 301,302.
Oliver Goldsmith's opinion of them, 301
Hardships endured by travellers in, :K)i5,
306. The politics of the Highlands not
understood by the governnnent, 332.
Viscount Tarbet, 332, Sroallness of the
sum required to settle the discontented,
332. Poverty of the Celtic chiefs, 332.
Mackay*8 indecisive campaign in the
HighUinds, 333. The war suspended,
342. The Cameronian raiment raised,
344. The war breaks out again, S54.
Shut out by a chain of posts from the
Lowlands, 377. The war recommenced,
683. Buchan surprised, and the war ex-
tinguished, 684.
Highlanders ; their characteristics at the time
of the Revolution, 304. Their religion at
that period, 305. Their dwellings, 306.
Their virtues, 306. Lofty courtt-sv of
their chiefs, 308. Value of their faculties if
developed by civilisation, 30H. Contempt
of the Lowianders for them, 309. The
poem ** How the first Ilielandman wis
made," 309. Their complete subjugation
in 1745, 310. Hatred of the populace of
London for the very si<;ht of the tartan,
310. Strange reflux of feeling in England
in favour of the Highlanders, 310. Ap-
plause given to Celtic manners, customs
and literature, 3 1 2. Peculiar nature of Ja-
cobitism in the Highlands, 313. Tyranny
of clan over clan, 315. Jealousy of the
ascendency of the Campbells, 315. Tlie
battle of Inverlochy, 317. The Marquess
of Argyle, 317. Execution of his son
Earl Archibald, 317. His grandson,
318. The Stewarts and Macnaghten^
318. Alarm of the chieflains at the
restoration of the power of Argyle, SIS.
et seq, Tlie Macleans, the Camerons
and Lochiel, 319. Insurrection of the
clans hostile to the Campbells, 330. Tha
gathering at Lochabcr, 330. Military
THE THIBD VOLUME.
743
character of the Highlanden}, 334. et seq.
Want of harmony amongst the clans when
under one command, 337, 338. Quarrels
amongst them, 340. Their conduct at
the battle of Killiccrankie, 360, 361. Re-
tire to the Castle of Blair, 366. Arrival
of reinforcements at the camp at Blair,
369. General Cannon's difficulties, 370.
Their attack on the Cameronian regiment
at Dunkeld repulsed, 369, 370. Disso-
lution of the Highland army, 377. Sur-
prised and routed at Strathspey, 684.
Highwaymen, in the time of William HI.,
58.
Hill ; left in command of Fort William at
Inyerness, 68.5.
Hodges, Colonel Robert; his gallantry at
the skirmish of Walcourt, 437, 438.
Holidays of the Church, ancient ; held in
disgust by rigid Covenanters, 249.
Holland ; rejoicings in, on the accession of
William 111., 2. Expenses of her expe-
dition under William III. repaid to her,
37. War declared against her by France,
38. The English contingent, under the
('ount Schomberg, 38. Natural resent-
ment of, at the conduct of Torrington to-
wards the Dutch fleet at Beachy Head,
614. A special ambassador sent to as-
suage her anger, 614.
Holland House ; the temporary residence of
William and Mary, 58.
Holt, Sir John ; appointed Chief Justice of
the King's Bench, 23. His opinion re-
specting the revenue of James II., 34.
Ilolyrood Palace, 312.
Hondekoeter, the painter, 56,
Hopkins, Ezekiel, Bishop of Londonderry,
144. Preaches the doctrine of nonresis-
tance, 144, 145. Withdraws from the
city, 1 95.
Hounslow, the troops at; reviewed by
Queen Mary, 653.
House of Commons ; the Convention turned
into a Parliament, 27. The Convention
of 1660 compared with that of 1689, 29.
Discussion on the bill declaring the Con-
vention a Parliament, 29. Passes the
bill, 31. The Oath of Allegiance, 31, 32.
Power of the House over the supplies,
35. Discussion re!<;pecting hearth money,
36. Passes a grant for repaying the
United Provinces the expenses of Wil-
liam's expedition, 37. Alarm respecting
the defection of the Scottish regiments at
Ipswich, 39. Passes the first Mutiny
Bill, 45. Suspends the Habeas Corpus
Act, 48. Views of the House respecting
the Sacramental Test, 109. JLeave given
to bring in a bill for repealing the Cor-
3
poration Act, 109. The debate adjourned
and never revived, 110. Carries a clause
in the bill for settling the oaths of fealty
compelling the clergy to take the oaths,
114. Passes the bill for settling the
Coronation Oath, 115. Its address to the
King on the barbarities committed by
I^ewis of France in the Palatinate, 1 27.
Invectives applied to him, 127. Its mu-
nificent relief afforded to the Protestant
fugitives from Ireland, 224. Brings in a
bill for reversing the sentence on Oates,
389. Conference with the Lords, 390,391 .
The bill dropped, 393. Remonstrance sent
to the Lords on their uncourteous behaviour
to the Commons, 393. The Bill of Rights
passed, 393. Rejection of an amendment
of the Lords, 394. Disputes respecting
the Bill of Indemnity, 396. The bill al-
lowed to drop, 398. Resolution of theHouse
that a pardon cannot be allowed to bar a
parliamentary impeachment, 407. Its grant
to Schomberg, 413. Its votes of supply
for carrying on the war in Ireland and
against France, 497. Inquiry into naval
abuses, 500. Violence of the Whigs, 509.
Impeachments, 510. The Corporation
Bill brought in, 517. Great muster of
both parties for discussing the bill, 521.
Tumultuous debate, 522. The two ob-
noxious clauses lost, 522. The Indemnity
Bill brought forward again, 522. Tlie
rise and progress of parliamentary cor-
ruption in England, 541. Settlement
of the revenue, 556. Bill for declaring
all the acts of the late Parliament to be
valid, 568. The Abjuration Bill, 570.
An Act of Grace read and passed, 575 —
579. The Parliament prorogued, 579.
Reassembled, 711. A bill introduced,
appointing Commissioners to examine and
state the public accounts, 712. 'ilie
Ways and Means, 712. A bill confis-
cating the estates of the Irish rebels
brought in and passed, 713. The bill
withdrawn in the Lords, 714.
House of Lords ; visited by William III.,
29. William's assent to the bill declaring
the Convention a Parliament, 31. The
Oath of Allegiance, 31, 32. Discussion
respecting hearth money, 36. Passes tlie
first Mutiny Bill, 46. Suspends the Ha-
beas Corpus Act, 48. The valuable, but
neglected, Archives of the House, 90. note.
Bill for settling the Oaths of Allegiance
and Supremacy, 100. Rejection of a motion
for the abolition of the Sacramental Test,
1 10. Debate on the Comprehension Bill,
1 10. Discussions and conferences on the
bill for settling the oaths of fealty, 114.
b4
744
INDEX TO
Passes tho bill for settling tbe Coronation
Oath, 1 1 7. Commits Gates to tbe Mar-
slialsea for breach of privilege, 386. Takes
the opinion of the Judges on Oates*s case,
S8G. Refuses to reverse his sentence, 388.
A bill brought into the Commons an-
nulling the sentence, 389. The committee
appointed to inquire into the circum-
stances attending the death of Essex, 379.
Reverses tho sentence on tbe Earl of
Devonshire, 384. Sentence of Titus Gates
brought before it by writ of error, 385.
Embarrassment of the House, 390. Con-
fcrence with the Commons, 390, 391.
Tbe bill dropped, 393. The Bill of
Rights passed by the Commons, 393.
The Lords* amendment, 394. Retirement
of Halifax, 497. The House appoints a
Committee of Murder, 511. Bill intro-
duced declaring all the acts of the late
Parliament to be valid, 567. A second
Abjuration Bill introduced into the House
of Lords, 573. An Act of Grace read
and passed, 575 — 579. The Parliament
prorogued, 579. Reassembled, 711. ITie
bill for confiscating tbe estates of the Irish
rebels withdrawn, 714.
Howard, Sir Robert ; his noble birth, 388.
His bad poetry, 389. Calls the attention
of the House of Commons to the unjust
decision of the Lords respecting the sen-
tence on Gates, 389. His motion on the
Corporation Bill, 518. His clause lost
on the debate, 532*
Howe, John, or •' Jacl^ Howe;" appointed
^'ice Chamberlain to the Queen, 25. His
singular character, i'5. IVoposes to send
the Dutch soldiers to suppress the revolt
of the Scotch regiments at Ipswich, 40.
His advocacy of strong measures for
Ireland, *J25. His intemperate motion
in the House, 405. His attack on Cacr-
niarthen, 406. And on Halifax, 407. ;
Huguenots in exile in Holland; their joy
on the accession of AVilliam and Mary, 3.
Regiments of, raised in England to' ac-
company Schomberg to Ireland, 411.
Their conspiracy at Dundalk, 426. Their
share in the battle of the Boyne,625. 630.
632.
Hume, Sir Patrick ; his charnctcr after his
return from exile, 299. He joins the
" Club " in Edinburgh, 299.
Humiercs, Marshal ; his army near the
Straits of Dover, 616.
Hyde, Lady Henrietta; her attendance at
the coronation of AViliiam and Mary, 1 J 8.
Married to the Earl of Dalkeith,' 118.
note.
Impemcbment, parliamentary; resoluttoo of
the House of Commons that a pardoo
cannot be pleaded in bar of impeacfameot,
407.
Indemnity, Bill of; disputes in Parliament
about, 396. Suffered to drop, 398. De-
bates on the, renewed, 523. The mock
Bill of Indemnity for King James, 5S4.
Difference between an Act of Indcmnitj
and an Act of Grace, 575.
Independents ; large numbers o^ at tbe
period of the Revolution, 96. Their
views respecting tbe soTereignty of every
congregation of believers, 96.
Indulgence, Declaration of, 10. Gratitude
of tbe Dissenters for the, 72.
Innocent XL; his death, 439. His strange
fate, 439. Effect of his death, 439.
Inverary Castle, 318, 319. 321. 352.
Inverlocby, battle of, 317.
Inverness; founded by Saxons, 323. In-
solence with which the burghers were
treated by the Macdonalds, 324, 325. Tbe
towu threatened by Macdonald of Kcp-
poch, 325, 326. Settlement of tbe dis-
pute, 329. Fort William built aud gar-
risoned, 685.
Invernessshire; possessions of the Macdoo-
alds in the, 315.
lona, island of, 323.
Ipswich; revolt of (he Scottish regiments
at, 38.
Ireland ; state of, at the time of the Rcto-
lution, 129. The civil power in the
hands of the Homan Catholics, ]i9.
Lord Deputy Tyrconncl, 129. 'Ihe
Courts of Justice, 129 — 131. The Muni-
cipal institutions, 131. Boroughs, 131.
Aldermen and sheriffs, 132. 'i'he miii-
tary power in the hands of the Papists
132, 133. Mutual enmity between the
Englishry and Irishry, 133. Panic among
the Englishry, 134. Emigration from
Ireland to England, 134. An illustra-
tion of the general state of the kingdom,
135. Infested with wolves at the time if
the Revolution, 136. Muster ings o( the
Englishry, 139. Conduct of tbe Knnis-
killeners, 140. Alarm of the }ieop]e of
Londonderry, 143. Effect of the news
of the Revolution in, 146. Mountjoy
sent to pacify the Protestants of Ulster,
146. "William III. opens a negutiaticn
with Tyrconncl, 149. Tyrconnel deter-
mines to laive the Irish, 152. Sends
secret instructions to offer Ireland to the
King of France, 153. Arming of the
whole kingdom, 154. Habits of the Irish
peasant, 154. Exhortations of the priests
to their flocks to prepare for liaitle with
THE THIRD VOLUME.
745
the Saxon, l.'>4, 155. The Irish army,
155. General arming, 155. The country
overrun with banditti, 156. Barbarity
and iilthineM of the Rapparees, 159.
Landing of James at Kinsale, 170.
His entry into Dublin, 173. llie two
factions at the Castle, 17D — 181. James's
journey to Ulster, 184. The country
impoverished, 184, 185. Londonderry
besieged, 197. et seq. Character of the
Irish gentleman of the period of the Re-
volution, 205. A Parliament convened
by James in "Dublin, 202. Acts passed
for the confiscation of the property of
the Protestants, 208. Excuses for the
bigot legislators, 209L Distrust of the
Irish for James, 214. Issue of base
money, 214. Cruel persecution of the
Protestants in Ireland, 220, 221. Their
escape to England, 224. Alarm in
Dublin at the news from Londonderry,
229. The siege of Londonderry raised,
239. The battle of Newton Butler, 243
—245. Preparations for a campaign in
Ireland, 416. Landing of Schomberg in
Ireland, 414. 4?0. State of the country,
4 1 5. Causes of the defeats and disgraces
of the Irish troops 417. Schomberg*s
operations, 421. Inquiry of the House
of Commons into the conduct of the war
in Ireland, 501. King William deter-
mines to go himself to Ireland, 532.
Preparations in England for the first war,
579, 580. The administration of James
at Dublin, 580. Condition of the country
according to Lauzun, 585. Its state
along the march of William III. 620.
The battle of the Boyne, 629. Flight of
James to France, 641. Surrender of
Waterford to William, 662. The Irish
army collected at Limerick, 663. Dis-
content of the French, 664. Siege of
Limerick, 676. William returns to Eng-
land, leaving a commission to govern
Ireland, 676, 677. Marlborough's expe-
dition to the south of Ireland. Sails,
678. Cork taken, 679. Kinsale surren-
ders, 680.
Irish Night, the, 398. *
Islay, the abode of Celtic royalty, 323.
Isles, Lordship of the; claimed by the Mac-
donalds, 323.
Jacobites; their struggles against the bill
for declaring the Convention a Parliament,
30, 31. Their agitation on the passing
of the bill, 31'. Their spirit broken by
the defection of Seymour, 33. Many of
tliem arrested and confined, 47. Suspen-
sion of the Habeas Corpus Act, 47.
Strong feeling against the Jacobite priests
in the House of Commons, 1 1 4. Jacobite
Lords at the coronation of William and
Mary, 1 18. Their scurrility and sarcasm
on the coronation of William and Mary,
119. Extract from one of their lam-
poons, 120. note. Difference between
English and Irish Jacobitism, 177. Ja-
cobite pamphlets in favour of James, 223.
Tlie Jacobites of the Scottish Convention,
272. Their determination to oppose the
Estates by force, 280. Their designs
frustrated, 281, 282. Arrival of the Duke
of Queensberry in Edinburgh, 283. They
request the Duke of Gordon to fire on
Edinburgh, 283. His refusal, 284. Their
spirit quelled, 284. Peculiar nature of
Jacobitism in the Highlands, 313. Their
disgust at the contents of the letters from
James to Dundee and Balcarras, S27.
The Duke of Gordon surrenders the
Castle of Edinburgh to William's troops,
347. Jacobite imputations on Marlbo-
rough, 438. The nonjurors, 443. 450.
Accessions to the strength of the Jacobite
party, 554, 555, Their hopesiirom William's
journey into Ireland, 555. Their plans,
586. Their cause betrayed by Fuller,
590. Their dismay, 592. Their anxiety
at the trial of Crone, 601. Clarendon, an-
other noted member of their party, arrested
and lodged in the Tower, 605. Ilireatcncd
invasion of the French, 610, 61 1. Dangers
of the Jacobites, 613. Character of the
Jacobite press, 656. Methods of distri-
buting their productions, 657. The Ja-
cobite Form of Prayer and Humiliation
after the battle of the Boyne, 657. Ja-
cobite intrigues with Montgomery, 681.
Tlieir army routed at Strathspey, 684.
Forswear themselves, 687. Find them-
selves in a minority, 687. Their rage,
688. Their attack on that clause of the
bill for establishing the ecclesiastical con-
stitution of Scotland, which sanctioned
the acts of the Western fanatics, 692.
Their coalition with the Club dissolved,
695. Letter from Mary of Modena
to the Club, 695. Formation of a
Jacobite conspiracy, 720. Meeting of
the leading conspirators, 721. They
determine to send Preston to St Ger-
mains, 723, Papers entrusted to him,
724. Information of the plot given to
Caermarthen, 726. Preston and his men
arrested, 72S. The Jacobites terror-
stricken, 728.
James I.; gives the site of Derry to the
Corporation of London, 141. His trea-
tise on the Pope as Antichrist, 499.
746
INDEX TO
James II.; reactionary feeling in his Favour,
7. This feeling extinguished by himself,
10. Discussion respecting his revenue
while on the throne, 33. Amount of
his revenue, 34. His civility to those
who did not cross him, 50. Maladmi-
nistration during his reign, 61. His
correction of some of the gross abuses of
the navy, 61. His pusillanimity and de-
pendence on France, 62. Tenderness with
which he was regarded during his exile by
the High Church party, 71. His piteous
appeals to Vienna and Madrid, 126.
Places the civil and military power in the
hands of the Papists in Ireland, 129 — 133.
Mountjoy and Rice sent from Tyrconnel
to him, 153. Causes Mountjoy to be
sent to the Bastile, 1 163. He deter-
mines to go to Ireland, 163. Assistance
afforded to him by Lewis, 165. Comforts
prepared for him on the voyage, 166.
Pays his farewell visit to Versailles, 1 66,
Sets out for Brest, 166. His retinue,
166, 167. The Count of Avaux chosen
as ambassador to accompany James to
Ireland, 167. Lands at Kinsale, 170.
Learns that his cause is prospering, 1 70.
Proceeds to Cork, 171. Tyrconnel ar-
rives there, 172. Leaves Cork for Dublin,
172. His progress, 173. Reaches Dublin,
173. His entry into the city, 174, 175.
Holds a Privy Council, 175. Issues a
proclamation convoking a Parliament in
Dublin, 175. Factions at Dublin Castle,
177. He determines to go to Ulster, 183.
His journey to Ulster, 184. Reaches
Charlemont, 184. Arrives at Omngh,
185. Alarming information reaches him,
186. He determines to proceed to Lon-
donderry, 1 87. Approaches the walls of
Ivondondcrry, and his staff fired on, 191.
Summons the inhabitants to surrender,
196. Their refusal, 197. Returns to
Dublin and entrusts the siege to his offi-
cers, 197. Orders a Te Deum for the
naval skirmish in Bantry Bay, 202.
jNIeeting of the Parliament of James in
Dublin, 202. His speech from the throne,
206. Little in common between him
and his Parliament, 210. Permits the
repeal of the Act of Settlement, 213.
Gives his reluctant consent to the great
Act of Attainder, 216. Prorogues the
Parliament, 220. Effect produced in
England by the news from Ireland, 223,
224. James's alarm at the news from
Londonderry, 229. His indignation at
the cruelty of Count Rosen, 231. Siege of
Londonderry raised, 239. Battleof Newton
Butler, 243—245. His consternation,
245. The Castle of Edinburgh held for him
by the Duke of Gordon, 252. Ilts
agents in Scotland, Dundee and BaU
carras, 268. Sends a letter to the Estates
of Scotland, 277. His letter read, 279.
Their resolutions that he had forfeited
his crown, 286. His letters to Dundee
and Bslcarras intercepted, 327. Appli-
cation from Dundee for assistance in the
Highlands, 342. James sunk in de-
spondency at the news from the north of
Ireland, 4 1 5. Atrocious advice of Avaux,
415. Avaux's advice rejected, 4 16. James's
prospects begin to brighten, 417. Dis-
misses Melfort, and gives the seals to Sir
Richard Nagle, 420. Leaves Dublin to
encounter Schomberg, 420. Collects his
army at Drogheda, 422. Advised by
Rosen not to venture a battle, 423. Dravs
up in order of battle before Schomberg*«
entrenchments at Dundalk, 425. De-
spatches Sarsfield with a division to G>o-
naught, 429. Goes into winter quarters,
430. Dealings of some of the Whigs
with the Court of Saint Germaias, 553.
Shrewsbury and Ferguson, 554. James*s
administration at Dublin, 58 1 . Scandalous
inefficiency of his infantry, 581. His
fiscal administration, 582. Receives suc-
cours from France, 582, 583. Plans of
the English Jacobites, 586. Letter from
Penn, 587. Accepts the services of tiie
Earl of Shrewsbury, 59G. William laiitls
at Carrickfergus, 615. James sets out
for the Irish camp near Lcinster, 617.
Retreats before William's army, G20.
Reaches the valley of the Boyne, Ci*^,
Pitches his tent on the banks of the river,
622. Condition and number of his army,
623. His army cut to pieces, 635. His
flight to Dublin, 635. His ignoble con-
duct, 635, 636. Loss sustained by bU
army, 637. Reaches Dublin Castle, CS9.
Takes leave of the citizens of Dublin,
643. His flight to France, 641. Hi^
arrival and reception there, 647. UU
importunities to Lewis to invade Eng-
land, 648. Contempt of the Frrnch
courtiers for him, 648, 649. DlscoTery
of a Jacobite plot, 720 — 728.
James's Park, St., 50.
Jane, King's Professor of Divinity; one of
the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, 4Ta
His political apostasy and relapse, 471.
Absents himself from the meetings of the
Commission, 472. Elected as Prolocuti;r
of the Lower House of Convocation, 489,
490. His oration before the Upper
House, 490.
JcflTerson ; his code, 88.
THE THIRD VOLUME.
747
JefTrcys, George, Lord; bts imprisontncnt
in the Tower, 399. Sensible of his peril,
399. Exultation of the mob at his down-
fall, 399. His disease and despondency,
4CX). His drunkenness, 400. The Col-
Chester barrel, 401. Visited by John
Tutchin, 401. And by Dean Sharp and
Doctor John Scott, 402. His death, 403.
Causes of his death, 403. note. His inso-
lence and cruelty on the trial of Sir Tho-
mas Armstrong, 526.
Jennings, Fanny, Lady Tyrconnel, 639.
Jerusalem Chamber, the, 471.
Jews ; proposition of the House of Com-
mons to exact a hundred thousand pounds
from them, 497.
Johnson, Dr. Samuel ; his opinion of the
abilities of Charles Leslie, 455. And of
William Law, 455. note.
Johnson, Samuel; case of, 383, 383. His
quarrel with Burnet, 383.
Johnston's, Saint; skirmish between the
Highlanders and Mackay*s troops at,
371.
Jones (otherwise Simpson) ; his Jacobite
intrigues, 683.
Jourdain ; MoIierc*s reference to, 168.
Judges ; appointment of the, by the gorern-
ment of William IIL, 22.
Jura, the paps of, 323.
Justice, College of, in Edinburgh ; the mem-
bers disarm themselves on William's pro-
clamation being issued, 252.
Juxon, Bishop, 165.
Keating, John, Chief Justice of the Irish
Common Pleas 130. His courageous
address at the Wicklow assizes on the
lawlessness of the Merry Boys, and at-
tempt to uphold the law, 157. Dis-
missed from the Council Board by James,
175.
Ken ; Bishop of Bath and Wells, 88. Be-
comes a nonjuror, 453. His indecision,
453, 454.
Kenmare, town of; foundation of by Sir
W. Petty, 136. Its isolation at that pe-
riod, 137. Its manufactures and trade,
137. Forays committed by the Irishry,
133. Reprisals of the people of Ken-
mare, 1 39. They act as an independent
commonwealth, 139. Compelled to capi-
tulate to a large force, and suffered to em-
bark for England, 161.
Kenraore, Lord : commands a regiment at
the battle of Killiecrankic, 355.
Kensington House ; purchased and the gar-
dens planted by William HI., 58.
Keppoch, Colin Macdonald, of. See Mae-
donald, Colin.
Kerry ; beauties of the southwestern part
of, 135. Little known at the time of the
Revolution, 136. Its wild state, 136.
note.
Kettlewell, John, rector of Coleshill ; be-
comes a nonjuror, 463. His intimacy
with Lord Russell, 463.
Kildare, 641.
Kilkenny ; abandoned by the Irish troops
at the approach of William, 662.
Killarney, Lakes of, 136.
Killiecrankic, glen of; its present appear-
ance, 353. Its condition at the time of
William III., 353. Occupied by the
Williamite troops, 357. Battle of Kil-
liecrankic, 360, 361. Effect of the battle,
365. Compared with the battle of Newton
Butler, 367.
King, Doctor William, Dean of St. Pa^
trick's ; his sufferings, 222. Committed
to prison in Dublin, 617. Welcomes the
King to Dublin, 642. Preaches before
the King in St. Patrick's Cathedral, 643.
King's Bench, Court of; its sentence on
Devonshire reversed, and declared to have
violated the Great Charter, 384.
King's Evil ; sneers of King William at the
practice of touching for, 478. Ceremonies
of touching, 478. Popular belief in the
efficacy of the King's touch, 478, 479.
Kinsale; James lands at, 170. Capitulates
to Marlborough, 680.
Kintyre, 323.
Kirke, Colonel Percy ; appointed to com-
mand a force for the relief of I^ndon-
derry, 226. His character, 226. His
expedition windbound at the Isle of Man,
226. Arrives in Loch Foyle, 228. Con-
siders it not advisable to make any at-
tempt, and remains inactive, 228. Pe-
remptorily ordered to relieve the garrison,
235. Does so, and the siege is raised,
235 — 237. Invited to take the command,
238. His conduct disgusting to the in-
habitants, 238. Sends arms to the £n-
niskillcners, 241.
Lake, Bishop of Chichester; becomes a
nonjuror, 453.
Lanarkshire ; the Covenanters from, called
to arms in Edinburgh, 282.
Lanier, Sir John ; commands the Queen's
regiment of horse at the battle of the
Boyne, 624.
Lansdowne, Lord ; takes the command of
the army for repelling the French in-
vaders, 653. His military experience,
653.
Latin ; the bad, of the Roman Catholic ser-
vices, 475.
748
INDEX TO
Latitudinarians ; their objections to the
Easter holidays, 113.
Lauzun, Antonine, Count of; a favourite,
with James II., 165. Hated by Louvois,
165. His ambition, 165. Appointed to
the command of tlie Irish forces in Ire-
land, 583, 584. Lands in Ireland, and
takes up his residence in the castle, 584,
585. His share in the battle of the
Boyne, 627. 629. Reaches Dublin, 639.
Marches out of Dublin, 641. Retires to
Limerick, 663. His opinion that Lime-
rick cannot be defended, 663. His im-
patience to get away from Ireland, 664.
Retires to Gal way, leaving a strong gar-
rison in Limerick, 668. Goes with Tyr-
connel to France, 676.
Law, William ; Dr. Johnson's opinion of
him as a reasoner, 455. note.
Lawers, Ben, 364.
Laws of England ; the peculiar virtues and
vices of our legislation, 84. The prac-
tical element always predominates over
the speculative, 85.
Leadenhall Market, 97.
Leake, Captain John (afterwards Admiral) ;
assists in relieving Londonderry, 235,
236.
Lee, Sir Thomas ; his opinion on the Coro-
nation Oath, 117. note.
Leinster ; lawlessness of the Merry Boys of,
157.
Leopold I., Emperor of Austria ; joins the
coalition against France, 122. Accused
by Lewis XIV. of leaguing with heretics,
125. Extract from the answer of Leo-
pold, 126. note.
Leo X. ; reference to, 95.
Leslie, Charles ; his abilities and character,
455. Becomes a nonjuror, 456.
Levcn, David, Earl of; bears a letter from
William III. to the Scotch Convention,
267. 278. Calls the people of Edin-
burgh to arms, 282. Commands the
King's Own Borderers at Killiecrankie,
355. 361. His gallantry, 563.
Lewis X I v., King of France ; great coali-
tion against him, 122. His devastation
of the Palatinate, 122 — 124. His mar-
riage with Frances de Maintenon, 124,
125. Spares Treves at her entreaty, 124,
125. His accusations against the Empe-
ror of Austria and the King of Spain. 125.
Leagues himself with the Sultan of Tur-
key, 126. W'ar declared against him by
the coalition, 127, 128. His unwilling-
ness to assist James II. with an army,
163, 164. His sentiments respecting
James's character, 164, 165. Furnishes
James with assistance, 165. His fare-
well visit to James at St Germains,
166. Ilisjoyat the death of Innocent
XL, 439. Sends an ambassador of high
rank to Rome, 439. Failure of his
schemes there, 440. Sends an old piece
of brass ordnance to Dublin to be coined
into crowns and shillings, 582. Forwards
an auxiliary force from France to Ireland,
582. His error in the choice of a ge-
neral, 583, 584. Receives James after his
flight from Ireland, 648. Importuned by
James to invade England, 648. His ad-
miral, Tourville, attempts a descent, 649.
Burnt in effigy in Covent Garden, 677.
Lewis of Baden, Prince ; hb victories over
the Turks beyond the Danube, 436.
Lieutenantcy, Commissions of; changes
effected in, 550. Debates in the House
of Commons on the changes in, 569.
Limerick ; occupied by the Irish troops
after the battle of the Boyne^ 663.
Their determination to hold it, 666. 'Vhe
command given to BoUseleau, 668. As-
pect of the town at the time of the Re-
volution, 668. Its present importance,
668. The old castle, 668. Arrival of
Baldearg O'DonncI, 672. The besiegers
repulsed, 674. The siege raised, 675.
The Duke of Berwick appointed Com-
mander in Chief of the Irish army, 676.
Lisbum; migration of the people of, to
Antrim, 163.
Lisle, Alice; her attainder reversed, 382.
Assassination of her husband, 506.
Lisle, John (husband of Alice Lisle); his
refuge near the Lake of Geneva, 506.
Assassinated, 506.
Literature; character of the Jacobite, of
England, 656,
Liturgy; proposal by the Comprehension
Bill for an Ecclesiastical Commission to
revise the Liturgy and Canons, 110.
Discussion in the House of Lords re-
specting, 110, 111. The English Liturgy
compared with the Latin, 475. Altered
by the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, 476.
Livingstone, Sir Thomas (governor of In-
vemcss); surprises and routs the High*
landers ar Strathspey, 684.
Lloyd, Bishop of St. Asaph; carries the
paten at the coronation of William and
Mary, 118.
Lloyd, Bishop of Norwich; declares him-
self a nonjuror, 453.
Lobb, Stephen ; his zeal in the persecution
of the seven bishops, 71.
I..ochal>er; gathering of the clans at, 330.
Lochicl. See Cameron, Sir Ewan.
Ix)chbuy ; the Macleans of, 331 .
I.<ocke, John; dedicates tlie Essay on the
THE THIRD VOLUME.
749
Human Understanding to the Earl of
Pembroke. t549.
Lockhart, Lord President; murder of, 290.
Lockhart, Sir William; appointed Solicitor
General of Scotland, 296.
Long, Thomas ; his Vox Cleri, 493.
Londeriad, the, 177. note.
London; its loyalty to William and Mary,
1. Proclamation of the new King and
Queen in, 1. Its tilth at the time of
William IIL, 56, Highwaymen and
scourers in the outskirts of, 58. The site
of Derry given by James I. to the Cor-
poration of^ 141. Sorrow and alarm of
the Londoners at the news of the landing
of James IL in Ireland, 175. Hatred
of the Londoners fur the Highlanders in
1740, 310. News of the successes of the
Protestants in the north of Ireland, 411.
Reception given by the London com-
panies to the Reverend George Walker,
503. Excitement in, on the dissolution
of Parliament and general election, 535.
The citizens return four Tories for the
City, 536. Agitated state of the City,
552. Proclamation of a general fast in,
552. Alarm at the news of the battle of
Bcachy Head, 609. Joyful news from
Ireland, 614. 645. Effect produced by
the news of the battle of the Boyne, 645.
Its joyful reception of the King on bis
return from Ireland, 677.
London Gazette ; its lying statements, 431 .
note.
Londonderry ; one of the principal strong-
holds of the Englishry at the time of the
Revolution, 139. Destruction of the an-
cient city of Derry, 141. The site and
six thousand acres in the neighbourhood
given by James I. to the Corporation of
London, 141, 142. Foundation of the
new city of Londonderry, 142. The cathe-
dral, 142. The bishopV palace, 142. The
new houses, 142. The city walls, 142.
The inhabitants all ProtesUnts of Anglo-
Saxon blood, 143. Besieged in 1641,
143. Its prosperity, 143. Alarm of the
inhabitants, 143. Arrival of the Earl of
Antrim to occupy the city, 144. Doctrine
of nonresistance preached by the bishop,
1 44. Low character of the Mayor and
Corporation, 144. The thirteen Scottish
apprentices, 145. The city gates closed
a«;ainst the King's troops, 145. James
Morison, 145. Retreat of the troops,
146. A small garrison of Mountjoy*s
regiment lefl in the city, under Robert
Lundy, 147. Lundy gives in his adhesion
to the government of William and Mary,
162. Confirmed by them in his office of
governor, 162. All the Protestants of
the neighbourhood crowd into the town,
163. The fall of the city expected, 188.
Lundy considers resistance hopeless, 189.
Arrival of succours from England, 189.
Treachery of Lundy, 190. The citizens
resolve to defend themselves, 190. Their
disgust at the conduct of the governor,
1 90. A tumultuous council of the inha-
bitants called, 191. The people called to
arms, 191. M^gor Henry Baker, Captain
Adam Murray, and the Reverend George
Walker, 191. Character of the Protes-
tants of Londonderry, 1 92. Two gover-
nors elected, and the people divided into
regiments, 195. Frequent preaching and
praying, 195. Remarkable aspects of the
cathedral, 196. Summons from James
to surrender, 196. Refusal to do so, 196.
Commencement of the siege, 197. The
assault at Windmill Hill, 199. The siege
turned into a blockade, 200. A boom
placed across the stream, 201. Interest
excited in England in the siege, 225.
Distress of the inhabitants, 227, 228.
Hunger and pestilence, 229. Cruelty of
Count Rosen, 229. Rosen recalled by
King James, 232. Attempt at negotia-
tion, 232. Extreme famine in the city,
232. Walker unjustly suspected of con-
cealing food, 233. •* The fat man in
Londonderry," 234. Kirke ordered to
relieve the garrison, 235. Attack on the
boom, 235. The boom gives way, 236.
The garrison relieved, 237. The siege
raised, 237. Loss sustained by the be-
siegers and besieged, 237, 238. Kirkc
invited to take the command, 238. Large
quantities of provisions landed from the
fleet, 238, 239. Letter from William III.,
acknowledging his grateful thanks to the
defenders, 239. Pride of the inhabitants
in their city as a trophy of the bravery
of their forc&thers, 239. Ten thousand
pounds granted by the Commons to the
widows and orphans of tlie defenders of
Londonderry, 505.
Loo, the palace of, 55t 56.
Lords. See House of Lords.
Lords of the Articles of the Scotch Par-
liaments, 283.
Lorn ; ravaged by the men of Athol, 352.
Lorraine, Charles, Duke of; drives the
French out of the Palatinate, and takes
Mentz, 437. His death, 709. A great
loss to the coalition, 709.
Lotliians, the, 256.
Loughbrickland ; rendezrous of the Protes-
tant forces at, 617. 619.
Louvois, chief military adviser of Lewis
750
INDEX TO
XIV., 123, His ck»ncier, 123. II»
dUboltod pUn of devMUtiuj; the Palati-
rut4r, 12X lUrfCscded bj 3lM]aine de
MaJDterton a« lH:r etitmy, 125. Ad«iM;%
hu ifuukUrr not to aMi%t J«inM II. with
tro'ifrs 1C5. His liatr<rd of l^utuD, 165.
Hi* view* respecting Ireland, 182.
JjtteXnce, John, Lord, 5.
JxnrUridert; their contempt for Highlandertf
J>ow lands of Scr/tland ; their state, after the
defeat of the Ilighlaiiders at Dunkeld, 377.
JjOw Church party; the, of tlie reign of
William III., €9. Origin of the appel-
lation, (jO. Tlieir viewv respecting James
1 1, and William III,, 72. Desire of Low
Churchmen to preserve Episcopacy in
KcrHland, 258. Tlteir minority in the
Ix>wer House of Convocation, 490.
Ixiwther, Sir John ; appointed to a Commis-
sionership of the Admiralty, 20. De-
puted to carry the tlianks of the Tories to
King William, 533. Appointed First
I^rd of the Treasury, 5-10. His abilitiei
and inBuence, 540. His connection with
Caermarthen, 540, Not well suited for
his post, 541. Moves the grant of the ex-
cise and customs' duties to the King Ibr
life, 557.
Ludlow, Julmund ; his early life, .505. His
vigorous old age, 506. His refuge at Ge-
neva, 506. His arrival in Ix>ndon after
the Ilevolution, 507. Horror of the people
at the regicide appearing amongst them,
508. Proclamation issued fur his appre-
hension, 509, His escape to Switzerland,
ftOV, His house and buriali)lace, 500,
Luiidy, Lieutenant Colonel Ilobert ; left by
Mount joy to garrison Londonderry, 147.
His treachery, 188. 190. Considers re-
sistance lio]>eless, 188, 189. Makes his
escape from the city by night, 192. His
memory held in execration in the north of
Ireland, 192. Sent to the Tower, 225.
Annually executed in efligy by the people
of Ix>ndonderry, 240.
I/Uttrell, Colonel Ilenry ; returned for Car-
low to the Dublin I'arliainent of James II.,
2aj.
I^uttrell, Colonel Simon ; returned for Dub-
lin to the Irish Parliament of James II.,
204. His part in the great Act of At-
tainder, 21C. Allows the ejected fellows
nnd scholars of the University of Dublin
to depart in safety, 221.
Luttrell, Narcissus; his MS. Diary in All
Souls* College, 2. note.
I^uxemburg, Duke of; defeats Waldeck at
the battle of Flcurus, COO, 661,
Macartby, Lieutenant General; his reduc-
tion of Baruion, 160, 161. Ueceives James
11. at Cork, 172. His part in the opera,
tions against the Enniskilleners, 24 1. Re-
warded with the title of Mseount Mount-
cashel 241. See Mounteasbd.
3Iaccle»6eld, Enrl of; his opposition to the
Abjuration Bill, 574. His answer in the
House to Marlborough, 574.
Mac Galium More; hi^ ui.KrupuIous am-
bition, 3 If;. 323.
Macdonald of Glengarry ; his personal dig-
nity, 331. His position on the field of
Killiecrankie, 359.
Mucdonald, Colin, of Keppoch ; his lawless
practices, 325. His mountain fastnesses,
31^5. Proclaimed a rebel and attack ud
by the King's troops, whom he defeats,
325. 32C. Wastes the lands of the
Mackintoshes and threatens Inverness,
32^;. Apiiearance of Dundee in Kcp-
pocirs camp, 328. Tlie dispute with
Inverness settled by Dundee's interven-
tion, 329, Greets the standard of Dun-
dee, 329, 330.
Macdonalds; power of the clan of the, 315.
323. Tlieir claim to the Lordship of the
Isles, 32.3. Their feud with the Mack-
intoshes, 323. llieir insolence to the
people of Inverness, 324. Their muster
at the gathering of Lochabcr, 330, 331.
Quarrels of the Macdonalds of Glengarry
with the Camerons, 340, 341. Their
position at the battle of Killiecrankie,
358. Macdonald of Sleat quiu the High-
land camp, 373.
Macgregors; terrible example made of the,
318.
Mackay, Andrew, a soldier of fortune, 284.
Appointed General by the Scottish Con-
vention, 284. His indecisive campaign
in the Highlands, 333. Withdraws from
the hill country, and the war suspended,
342. Urges the ministers at Edinburgh
to give hini the means of constructing a
chain of forts among the Grampians, 343.
Hastens to assist the besiegers of Blair
Castle, 355. Occupies the defile of
Killiecrankie, 357. Defeated by the
Highlanders at Killiecrankie, 3G0, 361.
Retreats across the mountains, 363. His
trying situation, 363, 364. His troops
refreshed at Weems Castle, 364. Reaches
Castle Drummond and Stirling, 365.
Restores order amongst the remains of
his army, 370. His improvement of the
bayonet, 361. Routs the Robertsons at
Saint Johnstone's, 371. His advice dis-
regarded by the Scotch Ministers, 373.
The consequences, 374, 375. Takes the
THE THIBD VOLUME.
751
Castle of Blair, 377. Ills unopposed
march from Penh to Inverness, 685.
Constructs and garrisons Fort William,
685.
Mackays, the, 329. Join General Mackay
and the King's troops, 334.
Mackenzie, Sir George, Lord Advocate;
his resignation, 265. His life threatened
by the Covenanters, 277. Applies to the
House for protection, 278.
Mackenzies, the, 329.
Mackintoshes; origin of their name, 323.
Hieir feud with the clan of Macdonald,
323. Origin of the dispute, S2:?. Their
friendship with the burghers of Inverness,
325. Their lands wasted by Macdonald
of Keppoch, 326. Their refusal to join
the Imnner of Dundee with the Mac-
donalds, 3i?9.
Maclean of Lochbuy; musters his clan at
the gathering of Lochaber, 331.
Maclean, Sir John, of Duart, 331.
Macleans; their oppressions at the hands of
the Campbells, 319. Offer their assist-
ance to J.imes, 319. Gathering of the
Macleans of Mull, at Lochaber, 331.
Muster of the, of Lochbuy, 331. Their
position on the field of Killiecrankie,
358.
Macleods the, 329.
Mocnaghten of Macnagbten; musters his
clan at Lochaber, 330.
Macnaghtens; their alarm at the influence
and power of tlie Duke of Argyle, 318.
Macphersons, the, 329. Their arrival at
the camp at Blair, 369.
Magdalene College, 10.
Maintenon, Madame de; her early life, 124.
Her character, 124. Her marriage with
Lewis XIV. of France, 124, 125. In-
tercedes for the city of Treves, 124, 125.
Her enmity towards Louvois, 125.
Mallow; muster of the Englishry at, 139.
The Protestants driven out from, 160.
Manheim ; destroyed by the French under
Duras, 124.
Mantegna, Andrea; his Triumphs at Hamp-
ton Court, 57. note.
Marlborough, John, Baron (afterwards
Duke); commands an English brigade
under Prince Waldeck, 437. Imputa-
tions thrown on him, 438. His love of
lucre, 438. Opinion of foreigners of the
relation in which he stood to the Princess
Anne, 561. Power of his Countess over
him, 562. His greed of gain, 562.
Boundless influence of him and the
Countess over the Princess Anne, 563.
Marks of fiivour bestowed on him by
William, 566, Supports the Abjuration
Bill, 574. Appointed to the command
of the troops in England during the stay
of William in Ireland, 598. Proposes a
plan for reducing Cork and Kinsale, 663.
Ordered by the King to execute his
plan, 663. Sails for the south of Ire-
land, 678. His dispute with the Duke
of Wirtemberg, 678, 679. The dispute
accommodated, 679. He takes Cork,
679. Compels Kinsale to capitulate,
680. lietums to England, 681. Gra-
ciously received by the Kmg,681.
Marlborough, Sarah, Countess of; fondness
of the Princess Anne for her, 560. Their
singular relationship, 561. Her power
over her husband, 562. Her parsimony,
562. Her hatred of all related to the
Princess, 564. Forms a Princess's party
in Parliament, 564. Shrewsbury sent to
wait on the Countess, 565. Scandalous
reports respecting him and the Countess,
565, She obtains a pension from the
Princess Anne, 566,
Marshalsea Prison, the, 386.
Mary, Queen; proclaimed,!. Her popu*
larity with her subjects, 52. Her per-
sonal appearance and character, 52. Her
dislike of evil speaking, 53. Her amiable
conduct, 53. Her coronation, 117, 118.
Inaugurated like a King, 118. Her mu-
nificent relief to the fugitive Protestants
from Ireland, 224. ' Proclaimed in Edin-
burgh, 287. Accepts the Crown of Scot-
land, 291. Not on good terms with the
Princess Anne, 560. Her annoyance at
the conduct of the Princess, 564. Her
resentment against Lady Marlborough,
566, Her renewal of terms of friendship
with Anne, 566, The Queen appointed
to administer the government during the
absence of William in Ireland, 579. Her
agonies at hb departure, 593. Her mea-
sures for the defence of the country, 604.
Signs the warrant for the arrest of Cla-
rendon and other noted Jacobites, 605.
Her distress at the news from Ireland,
645. Her tender letter to William, 646.
Her anxiety for both her husband and
lier father, 646. England threatened with
a French invasion, 649. ,Tbe whole king-
dom in arms, 651, 652. Mary reviews
the troops at Hounslow, 653. Her letter
to William respecting the plans of Marl-
borough for reducing Cork and Kinsale,
663. William*s return to England, 676.
Maumont; appointed to the Lieutenant
Generalship in the French contingent,
165. Entrusted with the direction of the
siege of Londonderry, 197. Shot dead at
the head of bis cavalry, 197. His sword
752
INDEX TO
preserved in Londonderry as a trophy,
'240.
Maynard, Sir John ; appointed Commis-
sioner of the Great Seal, 22. His states-
manlike view of the bill for declaring the
Convention a Parliament, 31. Opposes
the intemperate motion of Howe, 405.
Mazarin, Cardinal, 49.
M*Cormick, Captain William, of Ennis-
killen, 141. note.
Meath; incursion of the Enniskillcners
into, 226.
Melfort, John Lord ; accompanies James
II. to Ireland, 166. Odious to the peo-
ple of England, 167. A favourite with
James, 167. Disliked by the Count of
Avaux, 182. Advises King James to set
out for Ulster, 183. Held in abhorrence
by the Scotch Estates, 279. His letters
to Dundee and Balcarras intercepted,
327. His letter to Mary of Modena,
644. Dismissed from office and sent to
Versailles for assistance for James, 420.
Melloniere, La ; appointed to the command
of a Huguenot regiment under Schom-
berg, 412.
Melville, George, Lord; his connections
with the Duke of Monmouth and I^eslie,
266, 267. His part in the Rye House
Plot, 267. His approval of the enterprise
of the Prince of Orange, 267. Sent by
William III. to Edinburgh as agent to
the Presbyterians, 267. II is son, the
Earl of Leven, 267, 268. Presents him-
self at the Scottish Convention, 271. Ap-
pointed to the Secretaryship of Scotland,
297. Fixes his residence at the English
Court, 297. Appointed Lord High Com-
missioner of Scotland, 686. His charac-
ter and abilities, 686. Repeals the Act
of Supremacy in Scotland, 689.
Mentz ; besieged and taken by Charles
Duke of Lorraine, 437.
Merry Boys, the, of Leinster, 157. 170.
Mildmay, Colonel, member for Essex ; his
proposal for suppressing the revolt of the
soldiers at Ipswich, 40.
Militia ; the, of England at the time of the
Revolution of 1 688, 40.
Ministers; the, of the Plantagenets, Tudors,
and Stuarts. See Ministry.
Ministry ; what is now called a, not known
in England till the reign of William
111., 13. Distinction between ministers
and a ministry, 13. A Prime Minister
hateful in former times to Englishmen,
13.
Mitchelburne, Colonel John ; appointed go-
vernor of Londonderry, 229. His share
in the battle of the Boyne, 6^5.
Modena, Mary of; her letter to the Club of
Edinburgh, 695.
Money; issue of base, by James II., in Ire-
land, 214. Allusion to Wood's patent,
216.
Monmouth, Earl of; Mordaunt created, 121.
His attack on Halifiur in the Lords, 408.
Resigns his seat at the Treasury, 5S9.
Sets out for Torrington*s fleet, 606L
Montgomery, Sir James ; supports the reso-
lution of the Scottish Convention declar-
ing the throne Tacant, 286. Appointed t
Commissioner to carry the instrument of
government of the Scotch ConTention to
London, 291. His talents and charseter,
296, 297. Appointed Lord Justice Oefk,
298. His disappointment, 298. Forms
the Club, 298. His arrival in Loo-
don, with Annandale and Ross, 682.
Coldly received by the King, 682. Offers
his services to James, 682. Returns to
Edinburgh, 683. His confideuce in bii
position in the Scottish Parliament, 686.
Hisfiiction in a minority, 687. His rage,
688. Promises made to him by Mary
of Modena, 696. Breaks with the Ja-
cobites and becomes a Williamite again,
697, 698. Refusal of the King to give
him any thing but a pardon, 699. Hb
subsequent life, 699.
Montrose; his Highlanders, 338. 370. 377.
Mordaunt, Charles Viscount ; placed at the
head of the Treasury, 20. His character,
20. His jealousy of Dclamerc, 65. His
character, 65. Created Earl of Mon-
mouth, 121. See Montnoutli, Karl of.
Morison, James, of Londonderry, 145. His
consultation with the troops from the
city walls, 145.
Mountcashel, Lieutenant General MacartliT,
Viscount ; lays siege to the castle of
Crum, 242. Defeated at the battle of
Newton Butler, 243. Violates his parole,
583. See Macarthy.
Mountjoy, William Stewart, Viscount; sent
to pacify Ulster, 146. His character and
qualifications, 146. Founder of the Iri^
Royal Society, 146. His reception of the
deputation from Enniskillen, 147. Ills
advice to them, 147. Sent, with Rice,
on an embassy to St. Germains, 153.
Arrives in France, and is thrown into the
Bastile, 163. Included in the Iris^h Act
of Attainder while in the Bastile, 217.
Mountjoy, merchant ship ; breaks the
boom at the siege of Londonderry, 2S5.
Her brave master killed, 236.
Mourne river, the, 245.
Mulgrave, John Sheffield, Earl of; plights
his faith to William IIL, S2L
THE THIBD VOLUME.
753
Mull, Isle of; occupied by the Irish, under
Cannon, 377.
Munroe, Captain; takes the command of
the Cameroniaus at Dunkeld, 376.
Munros, the, 329.
Murray, Captain Adam; calls the people of
Londonderry to arms, 191. Meets the
flag of truce from James, 196. Refuses
to surrender, 196, 197. Makes a sally,
197. The Murray Club, S40.
Murray, Lord (eldest son of the Marquess
of Athol); calls the clan Athol to arms
for King William, 352. Demands to
be admitted to Blair Castle, 354. Be-
sieges the castle, 354, 355. Raises the
siege, 357.
Musgrave, Sir Christopher ; his opinion on
the Coronation Oath Bill, 1 1 7. note.
Mutiny at Ipswich, 38. l*he first Mutiny
Bill passed, 42. Extreme distrust with
which the measure was regarded, 46.
Nagle, Sir Richard ; appointed Attorney
General of Ireland, 130. Clarendon's
opinion of him, 130. note. Returned fur
Cork to the Parliament of Jamc*s in Dub-
lin, 203. Chosen Speaker, 206. Accepts
the seals from James in Dublin, 420.
Navy ; maladministration of the, during the
reigns of Charles II. and James 11., 61.
Its condition under Torrington, 433.
Inquiry of the House of Commons into
the abuses of the, 500. Corruption of
the Navy Board, 500.
Newry ; destruction of, 420.
Newton, Sir Isaac; his observatory over
Trinity College gate, 536. Gives his
vote to Sir Robert Sawyer, 536.
Newton Butler; battle o^ 243. Com-
pared with that of Killiecrankie, 367.
Nicene Creed, 476.
Nicolaus Mysticus ; deprivation of, referred
to, 102.
Nimeguen, Treaty of, 38.
Nisbet, John ; the Mr. Nisby of the Spec-
tator, 98. note.
Nithisdale; ** rabbling "of the clergy in, 250.
Noble, Le, a French lampooner, 120. note.
His two pa-Mjuinades, 120. note. His as-
sertion that Jeffreys was poisoned by
William III., 403.
Nonconformists ; their union with the Con-
formists against Popery, 70. Their gra-
titude for the Declaration of Indulgence,
72. The Toleration Act passed, 81.
Nonhearers of Scotland, the, 707.
Nonjurors; proposal to leave them to the
mercy of the King, 106. Passing of the
bill for settling the Oaths of Allegiance and
Supremacy, 115. Their arguments against
VOL. m, 3
taking the oaths, 443. 445. 4 53. Their no-
tions ufthe theory of government, 4 48. The
nonjurors of the highest rank, 453. Ken,
453. Leslie, 455. Sherlock, 456. Ilickes,
458. Jeremy Collier, 459. Dodwell,
461. Kettlewell and Ficxwilliam, 463.
General character of the nonjuring clergy,
464. Their poverty, 465, 466. Their
subsequent lives, 466, 467. Cibber's play
of The Nonjuror, 467. Clamours against
them eicited by the appearance of the
Jacobite Form of Prayer and Humiliation,
659. Appearance of a pamphlet suggest-
ing the Dewitting of the nonjuring pre-
lates, 690. The Presbyterian nonjurors
of Scotland, 703. Subsequently called
the Nonhearers, 707.
Nonresistance ; zeal of the clergy in favour
of, 4. Submission of the advocates of
the doctrine to the decrees of the Conven-
tion, 18.
North, Sir Dudley ; his examination before
the Murder Committee, 512.
Normich ; palace of the nonjuring bishop of,
attacked, 660.
Nottingham, Daniel Finch, Earl of; ap-
pointed Secretary of Sute in the first mi-
nistry of William 111., 18. Political
school to which he belonged, 18. De-
clines the offer of the Great Seal, 21.
His quarrels with Shrewsbury, 64. His
views concerning ecclesiastical polity, 79.
Discussion on his Comprehension Bill,
110. His peitinacity in opposing the
bill for declaring the acts of the late Par-
liament to be valid, 567, 568. Becomes
sole SecrcUry, 597. Visits Crone in New-
gate, 603.
Nugent, lliomas; appointed Chief Justice
of the Irinh King's Bench, 1 30. Recog-
nises the violence and spoliation of the
Merry Boys as a necessary evil, 157, 158.
Gates, Titus ; hatred with which he was re-
garded by the High Church party, 71.
His imprisonment in Newgate, 384. Re-
garded as a martyr by many fanatics, 384.
His reappearance in Westminster Hall
and the Court of Requests, 385. His
personal appeal ance and manners, 385.
Brings his sentence before the House of
Lords by writ of error, 385. Ordered to
the Marshalsca for a breach of privilege,
386. Refusal of the Lords to reverse his
sentence, 388. Bill annulling his sentence
brought into the House of Commons, 389.
Pardoned and pensioned, 393.
Oath, Coronation. See Coronation Oath.
Oath of Allegiance and Supremacy ; the, re-
quired of the members of both Houser»
C
754
INDEX TO
SI. 82. Dlscu8<tion on the bill for nettling
the, 99. Divided opinions of the High
Church clergy respecting the Oath of Su-
premacy, 440,441. Arguments for and
against taking the oaths, 441. 445.
0*Donnel, Baldearg (the O'Donnel); his
exile at the Spanish Court, 672. Refused
permission to go to Ireland, 672. Escapes,
and arrives at Limerick, 672. Muster of
the Creat^hts around him, 673. His no*
tion of independence, 67S.
O'Donnels ; their struggle against James I.,
141. Their exile at the Court of Spain,
671.
Oldbridge, ford of the Boyne at, 622.
William III. wounded at, 627. The
Boyne passed by William at, 630.
Oldmixon ; his statements referred to, 80.
note.
Omagh; arrival of James II. at, 185.
Wretchedness oft 1 85. Destroyed by the
Protestant inhabitants, 163. 185.
0*Ncil ; struggle of the house o^ against
James I., 141.
0*Neil, Sir Neil ; his part in the siege of
Londonderry, 200. Killed at the battle
of the Boyne, 629.
Ormond, Duke of; appointed Lord High
Constable at the coronation of William
and Mary, 118. Created a Knight of
the Garter, 120. Meeting of noblemen
and gentlemen interested in Ireland at
his house, 149. Entertains King WiU
liam at the ancient castle of the Butlers,
662. Commands the Life Guards at the
battle of the Boyne, 624. 627.
Ossian ; reference to, 312.
Otwray, Thomas ; his " Venice Preserved,"
52.
Outlawry ; the Act of Edward VI. relating
to, 525.
Oxford, Lord ; commands the Blues at the
battle of the Boyne, 624.
Painted Chamber, the, 392. 396.
Paintings of Charles I.; fate which they
met, 57. The cartoons of Raphael, 57.
The Triumphs of Andrea Mantegna, 57.
note.
Palatinate; the, devastated by a French
army under Marshal Duras, 123. Ra-
vaged by Marshal Turenne, 1 23. Suffer-
ings of the people, 123, 124. The cry of
vengeance from surrounding nations, 125.
Desolation of the, 61 1.
Palatine, Elector; bis castle turned into a
heap of ruins by the French under Duras,
J 24.
Papists. See Roman Catholics.
FMrdonen, the, of Germany, 95.
Parker, Bishop of Oxford, 74.
Parliament ; the Convention turned into
one, 27. Etymology of the word, 31.
Members of both Houses required to
take the Oath of Allegiance, 31, 32.
The Oxford Parliament, 81. Parliament,
according to some, not competent to com-
pel a bishop to swear on pain of depriva-
tion, 101. Presents an address to William
HI. to summon Convocation, 113. Sit-
ting of, on an Easter Monday, 113. Dis-
putes in the, 379. Prorogued, 379.
Reversal of attainders, 380. et seq. Dis-
putes about the Bill of Rights, 394 — S96.
Quarrel about a Bill of Indemnity, 396.
Rece^is of the Parliament, 414. Meets
again, 496. Prorogued by William, 531.
Dissolved, and writs for a general election
issued, 534. Rise and progress of parlia-
mentary corruption in England, 541.
Meeting of the new Parliament, 556,
Bill brought into the Lords declaring all
the acts of the Convention valid, 567.
The Parliament prorogued, 579. The
Houses reassembled, 711. The Irish
Parliament passes an Act annulling the
authority of the English Parliament,
208.
Parliament, Irish ; assembles in Dublin,
202. The House of Peers, 202. llie
House of Commons, 203. Deficiency of
legislative qualities in this Parliament,
205. The Parliament House on College
Green, 206. Speech of James II. from
the throne, 206. Resolutions of the
Commons SZ06. Rant and tumult of the
Assembly, 207. Judge Daly, 207. Passes
a Toleration Act and an Act annulling
the authority of the English Parliament,
208. Acts passed for the confiscation
of the property of Protestants, 208.
Little in common between James and
his Parliament, 210. Bill drawn up
for deposing all the Protestant bishops,
214. The great Act of AtUinder, 216.
James prorogues the Parliament, 220.
Parliament, Scottish ; the Parliament meets,
6S5. Melville appointed Lord High
Commissioner, 686. The government
obtains a majority, 686. An extraordi-
nary supply voted, 688. Ecclesiastical
legislation, 688. Two supplementary
Acts passed, 694. See Convention, Scot-
tish.
Paris Gaxette; quotation from the, 113.
note.
Patrick, Dean of Peterborough ; one of the
Eoclesiastimd Commissioners, 470. His
alterations of the Collects, 476. Ap-
pointed to the see of Chichester, 485.
THE THIBD VOLUME.
755
Patronage, Church ; abolished in Scotland,
694.
Payne, Neville ; an agent of the exiled royal
family, 682. His antecedent <«, 682. His
intrigues with Montgomery, 682. Ar-
rested and carried to Edinburgh, 700.
Subjected to the torture, 700. His bra-
very, 700. Immured in the Castle of
Edinburgh, 700.
Pelhara, Henry ; corruption of his adminis-
tration, 546.
Pemberton, Judge, 380. note.
Pembroke, Thomas Herbert, Earl of; bears
the pointed sword at the coronation, 1 18.
Appointed First Lord of the Admiralty,
549.
Penn, William; his scandalous Jaeobitinn,
587. His letter to James, 587. Taken
into custody, but acquitted, 588. A
letter from James to him intercepted, 599.
Taken before tl»e Privy Council, 599.
His falsehood, 600. Required to give
bail, 600. Joins the Jacobite conspiracy,
721.
Pensionary of Holland ; importance of the
office of, 68.
Perth, James Drummond, Earl of; obtains
the estates of Ix)rd Melville, 267.
Peterborough, Earl of; his impeachment
for high treason, 510. Sent to the Tourer,
511.
Peterborough level ; Crown lands in the,
55a
Petre, Father, 10.
Petty, Sir William ; his foundation of the
town of Kenmare, 136. His ironworks
there, 137.
** Phillida, Phillida,** the song of, 50.
Phillipps; his lost poem, the Grameis, 331.
note.
Photius ; deprivation of, referred to, 102.
Piedmont ; invaded by a French army
under Catinat, 710.
Plottin Castle, 634.
Plowden, Francis ; appointed Chief Mi-
nister of Finance in the Dublin Parlia-
ment of James II., 203.
Plymouth, garrison of; its discontent and
riotous conduct, 5.
Politics, science of; its close analogy to
mechanics, 84.
PoUezfen ; appointed Attorney General and
Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, 23.
His opinion respecting the revenue of
James II., 34.
Portland, Bentinck, Duke of; his letter to
the Scotch ministers respecting Mackay,
374. Sent by William 1 1 1, on a mission to
the Hague, 521. His share in the battle
of the Boyne, 625. 629.
3 c
Powell, Sir John ; appointed to a Judge-
ship, 23.
Fowls, William Herbert, Earl of; accom-
panies James II. to Ireland, 166.
Powle, Henry, speaker of the Convention ;
bis part in the proclamation of William
and Mary, 1.
Prayer, Book of Common ; proposed re**
vision of the, 110.
Presbyterians ; the last serious attempt to
bring them within the pale of the Church
of England, 69. Comforts of their
divines 97. Their influence with their
flocks, 97. Tom Brown's remarks on,
98. note. Advice to the Episcopalians
of Scotland respecting the Presbyterians,
260. Comparative strength of religious
parties in Scotland, 261. Their hatred
of the merciless persecutors of their
brethren of the £iith, 281. Their un-
fevourable opinion of the Dutch Luthe-
rans, 292. note. Origin of the annual
grant of the government to the Presby-
terians of Ulster, 618. The law fixing
the ecclesiastical constitution of Scotl :nd,
690. Satisfaction of the Presbyterians
on the whole at the new ecclesiastical
polity, 700. The Presbyterian nonjurors,
703. The reformed Presbytery, 704.
note.
Preston, Richard Graham, Viscount ; his
Jacobitism, 588, 589. In high favour
with Lewis 589. Joins the Jacobite con-
spiracy, 721. Proposal to send him to
St. Germains 723. Papers entrusted to
him, 724. He and his companions ar-
rested in the Thames 7 '27.
Priests ; the brokers of the Court of James
II., 61.
Printing offices the, of the Jacobites 657.
Prior, Matthew ; his complaint that William
III. did not understand poetical eulogy,
52.
Privy Seal ; put into commission, 538.
Proscriptions of the Protectants in Ireland,
208. Sanguinary proscriptions of the
Roundheads and Cavaliers <5 77.
Protestantism; iu history in Europe ana-
logous to that of Puritanism in England,
96.
Protestants ; their gratitude to Maurice of
Germany and William of England, 49.
Their condition in Ireland under ihe Ro-
man Catholic officials 131. Si i thousand
veterans deprived of their bread, 132.
Their hopes centred in King William,
133. Panic among them, 1 34. History
of the town of Kenmare, 135. Muster-
ings at the principal Protestant strong-
holds, 139. Bold front shown by tlie
2
756
INDEX TO
Enniskillenen to the Roman Catbolie
troops, 140. Alarm of the Protestants of
Londonderry, 1 43. Mountjoy sent to pa-
cify the Protestants of Ulster, 146, 147.
General arming of the Roman Catholics
and disarming of the Protestants, 156.
Approximate estimate of the pecuniary
losses caused by the freebooters, 160. The
Protestants of the south unable to resist
the Roman Catholics, 160. Enniskillen
and Lon londerry bold out, 162. The
Protestants of Ulster driven before the
devastating army of Richard Hamilton,
162, 163. They make a sUnd at Dro-
more, 163. Their condition at the land-
ing of James II., 170. They abandon
and destroy Omagh, 185. Character of
the Protestants of Ireland, 192, 193.
Their contempt and antipathy for the Ro>
man Catholic^, 194. Acts passed for the
confiscation of the property of the Protest-
ants, 20S. SufTerings of the Protestant
clergy of Ireland, 209. The great Act of
Attainder, 216. Cruel persecutions of the
Protestants of Ireland, 220. Roman
Catholic troops quartered in the houses of
suspected Protesunts, 221. Doctor Wil-
liam King, Dean of St Patrick's, 222.
Ronquillo*s indignation at the cruel treat-
ment of the Protestants in Ireland, 224.
Munificent relief afforded to the fugitives
who escaped to England, 224. Actions
of the Enniskilleners, 226. DiNtress of
Londonderry, 227. Cruelty of Count
lioscn to the Protestants of the neigh-
bourhood of Londonderry, 229. Extre-
mity of distress in Londonderry, 233.
The siege raised, 237. Gain the battle
of Newton Butler, 243 — 245. Atrocious
advice of Avaux to James to massacre all
the Protestants of Ireland, 415. The
IVotestants desire to revenge themselves
on the Irish of Carrickfergus, 421. The
XVench soldiers billeted on Protestants in
Dublin, 585. Joy of the Protestants of
Ireland on the landing of William at
Belfast, 615 — 617. Proclamation in
Dublin forbidding them to leave their
homes aftor nightfall, 617. Their fierce
and implacable desire to trample down
the Irish, 625. The battle of the Boyne,
629. Their JDy in Dublin after the battle
of the Boyne, 641. Booty taken by the
victors of the Boyne, 642.
Puritanism; its history in England analo-
gous to that of Protestantism in Europe,
96.
Puritans ; in what their scrupulosity really
consisted, 92. Their objections to the
Easter holidays in Parliament, 1 1 3, Tlieir
conduct doring th^ aacendeocy m Eaf-
land. 481. Feelings with vrhieb tliey vert
regarded by the Anglican clctgy, 4Sj;
483.
Pusignan ; appointed third in eomnuDd tk
the siege of Londonderry, 197. Is nor-
tally wounded, 198.
Quakers ; their refusal to take the Oath af
Supremacy, and the penal oonacqucaacii
83. Declarations required from, aodcr
the Toleration Act, 83. Large oumbcn
of, at the time of the Rerolutioo, 9CL
Pecuniary losses aostained by tbem at the
hands of the freebooters in Ireland, l€a
Queensberry, Duke of ; arrives in Eifia-
burgh and takes his place in the Coovca-
tion,283. Refuses to vote on the icsoliitaoa
that James had forfeited bis crown, 286.
Ramsav*8 regiment, 355. Retreat ct, at
Killiecrankie, 361. 364.
Raphael; cartoons of, at Hampton Giurt,
57.
Rappareea; their barbarity and filthinei^
159. 170. 1 73. The ProtestanU forbidiia
to possess arms, and their houses at tke
mercy of the Rappareea, 2:21.
Rehearsal, the, 389.
Reresby, Sir John, 10. 121. noteu
Revenue ; the public, at the time of the Re-
volution of 1688, 35. The revenue of
the seventeenth century, 556. Sources
of, 557. The hereditary, of the Crown,
557. 559.
Revolution, English ; more violent in Scot-
land than in England, 246. Reactwo
which follows all revolutions, 5. note.
Rice, Stephen ; appointed Chief Baron of
the Exchequer, 130. Use he made of
his power, 131. Sent on an erabas&jto
St. Germains, 153. His secret instruc*
tions as to the offering of Ireland to
France, 153, His arrival in France, 163.
Richelieu, Cardinal, 49.
Rights, Bill of; passed by the Commons
393. Disputes between the Houses re-
specting the succession to the cruwn, S94,
395. llie bill allowed to drop, 396. In-
troduced again and passed, 498. The
special provisions of the Act, 498. The
Declaration against Transubst&ntiation,
498. Tlie dispensing power, 500.
Rights, Declaration of; doctrine of the, so-
lemnly reasserted every year, 47. Turned
into a Bill of RighU. 393.
Robertson, Alexander (chief of the clan
Robertson) ; joins the camp of the High-
landers at Blair, 869. His literary cha-
racter, 369, 370.
THE THIRD VOLUME.
757
Robertson, the cUn; their arrival at the
camp at Blair, 369. Sent down to occupy
Perth, 370. Routed by Mackay at Saint
Johnstone's, 371.
Rochester, Lawrence Hyde, Eorl of; takes
the Oath of Allegiance to William 111.,
S3. Generosity of Burnet to him, 33.
Roman Catholics ; hated by the soldiery, 4.
The penal code enacted against them by
the Parliaments of Elizabeth, 83. All
the highest offices of the state in Ireland
filled with Papists, 129. Not allowed to
beat large in Enniskillen, 141. Rising
of tlie whole Irish kingdom, 154. Their
joy at the arrival of James II. in Ireland,
170. Feelings with which they regarded
James compared with those of the English
Jacobites, 178. Their fixed purpose, 178.
Contempt and antipathy of the Protes-
tants of Ireland for the Roman Catholics,
194. Routed by the Enniskilieners in
Donegal, 226. Close siege of London-
derry, 227. The Irish raise the siege and
retreat to Strabane, 237. Depression of
the troops, 241. Defeated at the battle
of Newton Butler, 243 — 245. They rally
round James in immense numbers, 419.
The battle of the Boyne, 629. Their
low military reputation, 665, A bill
brought into the House of Commons
confiscating the estates of all Papists who
had joined in the Iri»h rebellion, 713.
Rome ; eflect produced at, by the news of
the battle of the Boyne, 744.
Rosen, Count ; the chief command of the
French placed at the disposal of James
II. given to, 165. His talents and cha-
racter, 187. Placed in command in
James's army in Ireland, 187. Returns
with James to Dublin, 197. Appointed
' to conduct the siege of Londonderry, 229.
His cruelty, 229. Jameses disgust at his
conduct, 231. Recalled to Dublin, 232.
His character compared with that of the
Count of Avaui, 23 1 , 232. Advises James
not to hazard a battle with Schomberg,
423. Recalled to France, 584.
Ross, Lord; joins the Club, 298. Pro-
ceeds with Montgomery and Annandale
to London, 682. Returns to Edinburgh,
683. Promises made to him by Mary of
Modena, 696. Breaks with the Jaco-
bites and becomes a Williamite again,
697. Turns informer, 697.
Rbundheads; their sanguinary proscrip-
tions, 577.
Rowe, member of the House of Commons,
1 10. note.
Royal Society of Ireland; foundation of
the, 146.
Royal Voyage; the drama so called, 431.
note.
Russell, Lady, widow of Lord William
Russell, 2. Her daughter. Lady Caven-
dish, 2. Her letter to Halifax, 409. Her
account of the perplexity of Ken respecting
the oaths, 454. note.
Russell, Lord William, reference to, 105.
His attainder reversed, 380. His up-
right and benevolent character, 380.
Reverence in which his memory was
held by the Whigs, 380, 381 .
Russell; appointed to advise the Queen
on naval matters, 598. Sets out for
Torrington's fleet, 606.
Ruvigny, the Marquess of; his Huguenot
opinions, 411. His residence at Green-
wich, 412. His English connections,
412. His sons, 412. His death, 412.
Rye House Plot, 525.
Sacheverell, William ; appointed to a Com-
missionership of the Admirnlty, 20. His
clause in the Corporation Bill, 517. Its
effect, 517. The clause lost on the de-
bate, 522.
Salisbury, Earl of; his impeachment for
high treason, 510. Sent to the Tower,
511.
Salisbury, see of; Burnet appointed to, 75.
Sancroft, Archbishop of Canterbury ; his re-
fusal to obey the precept of William III.,
76. His final submission and foolish ex-
pedients, 77. Letter from Bishop Comp-
ton to him, 91. note. Absents himself
from the coronation of William and Mary,
118.
Sarsfield, Colonel Patrick ; returned for
Dublin to the Irish Parliament of James
II., 202. His station and character,
202. His services, 202. 429. Avaux's
opinion of him, 202. Abandons Stigo,
245. Appointed to the command of a
division sent into Connaught, 429. Raised
to the rank of brigadier, 429. Present
' at the battle of the Boyne, 628. Accom-
panies the King in his flight to Dublin,
636. His resisUnce at Limerick, 666.
His despondency, 669. His surprise of
the English artillery, 669. His popularity
with his countrymen, 671.
Sawyer, Sir Robert ; his opinion on the Co-
ronation Oath Bill, 117. note. His case
brought before the House of Commons,
524. His connection with the State
Trials of the preceding reign, 525. His
manly stand against Popery and despotism,
525. Called by the House to account
for his conduct in the case of Sir Thomas
Armstrong, 525. Excepted from the In-
758
INDEX TO
deninity and eipelled from the House,
528. Returned to the new House of
Commons by the University of Cambridge,
Scarborough, Mayor of; tossed in a blanket,
Schomberg, Frederic, Count of; appointed
to the command of the English contin-
gent to aid Holland, 38. Created a
Knight of the Garter, 120. Orders Kirke
to relieve Londonderry immediately, 235.
note. Entrusted with the command in
Ireland, 411. Formation of bis army,
411. His wonderful popularity in Eng-
land, 412. His undoubted Protestant-
ism, 412. A grant of a hundred thou-
sand pounds awarded to him by the
Commons, 413. Returns thanks to the
House, 414. Lands in Ireland, 414.
Takes Carrickfergus, 421. Joined by
three regiments of Enniskilleners, 421.
Advances into Leinster, 422. Declines a
battle, 423. Frauds of the English Com-
missariat, 424. Entrenches himself near
Dundalk, 425. Conspiracy and pesti-
lence in his camp, 426, 427. Goes into
winter quarters at Lisbum, 430, 431. His
immense losses of men, 430, 431. Va-
rious opinions about his conduct, 431.
His admirable despatches, 432. Meets
William at Belfast, 615. Gives the
country information by signals of the
King's arrival, 616. The battle of the
Boyne, 629. Schomberg's sullenness,
629. His brave charge with the Hu-
guenot regiments, 633. Killed at their
head, 633. Honours paid to his corpse,
6:j8.
Schomberg, Meinhart ; commands the right
wing of the Englisli at the battle of the
Boyne, 629. Turns the left flank of the
Irish army, 629.
Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence displayed ;
the book so called, 702.
Scotland ; the Revolution more violent in
Scotland than in England, 246. The
Church established by law odious to
Scotchmen, 247. King William dispenses
with the Act depriving Presbyterians of
the elective franchise, 248. Elections for
the Convention, 248. ** Rabbling" of the
Episcopal clergy, 248, 249. Dismay of
the Scottish bishops, 251. S:a'e of Edin- |
burgh, 252. Question of an Union be-
tween England and Scotland raised, 253. |
Prosperity of Scotland under the free
trade regulations of Oliver Cromwell,
254. Its grievances under Charles II., j
255. A commercial treaty with England i
proposed, 255. Blessings of the Union of
1707, 257. Opinions of William III. oo
Church government in Scotland, 259. Com-
parative strength of religious parties in
Scotland, 261. Meeting of the CoDveo-
tion, 271. Dishonesty and timeserving
conduct of the statesmen of Scotland tt
the time of the Revolution, 273. Letter
from James to the Estates, 377. Com-
mittee of the Convention to frame a plao
of government, 285. Resolution proposed
by it, 285. Abolition of Episcopacy ia
Scotland, 287. The Scotch Corooatioo
Oath revised, 291. William and Maty
accept the crown of Scotland, 291. Dis-
content of the Covenanters, 293. Minis,
terial arrangements in Scotland, 294, 295.
Scotland a poor country at the time of
the Revolution, 295. War breaks out in
the Highlands, 300. State of the High-
lands at that period, 30O, SOI. Gold-
smith's comparison of Scotland with Hol-
land, 302. note. Hatred of Engli^men
for the very sight of the tartan, 3ia
Reflux of public feeling, SIO. Tyranny
of clan over clan, 311. Hatred of the
neighbouring clans for the Campbells,
318, 319. Dundee and Balcarras ordered
to be arrested, 328. Dundee gathers the
clans, 330. Mackay*s indecisive campaign
in the Highlands, 333. War again breaks
out in the Highlands, 354. Panic after
the battle of Killiecrankie, 365. The
Highlanders defeated at Dunkirk, 375,
376. Dissolution of the Highland annr,
377. State of the Lowlands, 3 77. In-
trigues of the Club, 377. The Courts
of Justice reopened, 378. Improvement
in the aspect of things in Scotland, 681.
Intrigues of Montgomery with the Jaco-
bites, 681. War in the Highlands, 683.
The spirit of the clans effectually cowed,
685. Ecclesiastical legislation, 688. Ge-
neral acquiescence in the new ecclesiastical
polity, 700. Complaints of the Episco-
palians, 701. The Presbyterian non-
jurors, 703.
Scott, Doctor John; his visit to JeflTreys in
the Tower, 402.
Scottish troops ; revolt of the, under Schom-
berg, 39. Defeated and taken, 41, 42.
Scourers; in the time of William III., 5S.
Seal, the Great ; inconveniences with which
it was borne by any but lawyers, 21.
Confided to a Commission, 22.
Sedley, Catharine ; her letter to King
James, 725.
Sedley, Sir Charles, 556, His talents 557.
Separatists ; their union with their oppo-
nents against Popery, 70.
Session, Court of; Sir James Dalrymple
THE THIKD VOLUME.
759
appointed president of the, 296. Sittings
of, recommenced, 378.
Settlement, Act of; repealed by the Irish
Parliament of James II., 209.
Seymour, Sir Edward ; his opposition to the
Act 1 W. & M. sess. I. c. 1., 30, 31.
Takes the Oath of Allegiance, 33. De-
clares his support of measures for tran-
quillizing Ireland, 225. His defence of
Lord Halifax against the attacks of John
Hampden, 515.
Shales, Henry, Commissary General ; his
peculations, 424. Cry raised against him,
502.
Sharp, John, Dean of Norwich ; his inter-
view with Lord Jeffreys in the Tower,
402. Appointed one of the Ecclesiastical
Commissicm, 470.
Sharpe, Archbishop, 276.
Sherlock, Doctor William, 88. Becomes a
nonjuror, 456. His distinguished charac-
ter, 456, 457. His voluminous writings,
457. His conflict with Bossuct, 457.
His name mentioned with pride by the
Jacobites, 458. Indulgence shown to
him, 534.
Shields, Alexander; appointed chaplain of
the Cameronian regiment, 345. His
opinions and temper, 345, 346.
Shovel, Sir Cloudesley ; conveys King
William across to Ireland, 601.
Shrewsbury, Charles, Earl of; appointed to
a secretaryship in the first government of
William III., 19. His youth, 19. His
antecedents, 19, 20. His quarrels with
Nottingham, 64. Absents himself from
Parliament during the discuwion on the
Sacramental Test, 110. His positiun in
the Whig party, 516. Implores King
William to change his intention of leaving
Kngland, 530. His apostasy to the cause
of the Jacobites, 554. Sent to wait on
the Countess of Marlborough respecting
the Princess's party in Parliament, 565,
Scandalous reports respecting him and the
Countess, 565, His extraordinary con-
duct, 594. His peculiar character, 594,
595. His mother, 596. His treawn,
596. His menUl distress. 596, 597. His
resignation of the seals, 597. His illness,
597. Renewal of his allegiance, 613.
His offer to retrieve the honour of the
English flag, 613.
Sidney, Algernon ; reference to. 105. His
attainder reversed, 382.
Sidney, Ix>rd Godolphin ; the vacant seals
given to him, 719. Mortification of
Caermarthen at the appointment, 720.
Sky, the Macdonalds of, 331.
Slane Castle, 621.
Slane, Lord ; his part in the siege of Lon-
donderry, 200.
Sleaford, battle of, 41.
Sligo; musterings of the Englishry at, 139.
Taken by the Roman Catholics 160.
Abandoned by Sarsfield, 245. Occupied
by Kirke, 245.
Smith, Aaron ; appointed Solicitor to the
Treasury, 26. His scandalous antece-
dents, 26.
Smith, Adam, 85.
Society, English ; state of Court society at
the time of the Revolution, 60.
Solmes, Count of; commands a brigade of
Dutch troops under Schombcrg in Ire-
land, 411. His share in the battle of the
Boyne, 625. 627. 630. 632. Appointed
Commander in Chief of the army in Ire-
land, 662.
Somers, John (afterwards Lord Somers) ;
his opinion respecting the revenue de-
rived by James II. from the parlia-
mentary grant, 34. His reflections on
the injustice of the lords* decision on the
sentence on Oates, 388. Chief orator in
the free conference with the Lords, 390.
His proud appearance in the Painted
Chamber, 392. Draws up n manifesto
from the Commons to the Lords, 393.
Brings up the report on the Corporation
Bill, 517. His disapproval of the vio-
lence of the Whigs, 522 His speech on
the bill for declaring the acts of tlie late
Parliament valid, 568.
Somers Tracts, the, 120. note.
Somerset, Duke of; carries the Queen*s
crown at the coronation, 1 1 8. Entertains
King William at Marlborough, 677.
Sophia, Duchess of Brunswick Lunenburg ;
proposed by William III. as the suc-
cessor to the Crown of England, 394.
Sovereign ; his position in the government,
before and after the Revolution, 13.
Spain; her alliance with England, 122.
Manifesto of, declaring war against
France, 127. Joins the coalition against
France, 436.
Spectator ; the, reference to, 98. note.
Spires; cathedral ofy destroyed by the
French under Marshal Duras, 124.
Sprat, Thomas, Bishop of Rochester ; plights
his faith to William III., 32. Carries
the chalice at the coronation of William
and Mary, 118. One of the Ecclesiastical
Commissioners 471. His doubts about
the legality of the Commission, 472. Ab-
sents himself, 472.
Stamford, Earl of; appointed Chairman of
the Murder Committee, 512.
States General; letter from William III.
760
DJDEX TO
to the, on his accession, 3. Its manifesto,
declaring war against France, 197, Its
treaty with England and the Emperor
of Germany, 436.
Stewart, James ; promises made to him by
Mary of Modena, 696.
Stewarts of Appin ; their alarm at the power
of the Earl of Argyle, 318. Muster of
the, at Lochaber, 3da Their arrival at
the camp at Blair, 369.
Stillingfleet, Dean of St. PauVs ; one of the
Ecclesiastical Commission, 470. Ap-
pointment to the see of Winchester, 485.
Stirling Castle, 365.
Stonehenge, 84.
Stralmne, Claude Hamilton, Lord ; sum-
mons the people of Londonderry to sur-
render, 196. Returns unsuccessful, 197.
Strafford, Earl of; included in the Lriah
Act of AtUinder, 216.
Strathspey, rout of, 684.
Succession to the English crown ; difficulties
respecting the entail, 384. Su^jgestion
that it should be entailed on Sophia of
Brunswick, 394. The amendment re-
jected by the Commons, 395.
Surplice ; question of the, discussed by the
Ecclesiastical Commissioners, 473.
Supplies ; power of the House of Commons
over the, 35.
Supremacy; Oath of, 82. Discussion on the
bill for settling the, 99.
Supremacy; Act of, repealed in Scotland,
689.
Sutherland, Colonel Hugh ; marches against
Enniskillen, 227. Declines an action, and
retreats, 227.
Sutherland, Earl of; introduces into the
Scottish Parliament the law fixing the
ecclesiastical constitution of Scotland, 690.
Swift, Dean ; his misrepresentations of Bur-
net's conduct, 78. note. His opinion of
Carstairs, 298. note.
Talbot, lying Dick, 134. See Tyrconnel.
Talmash, Thomas; second in command to
Marlborough under Prince Waldeck, 437.
His gallantry at the head of the Cold-
streams, 437.
Tangier battalions; the two, at the battle of
the Boyne, 6 '24.
Tarbet, Mackenzie Viscount ; his advice to
government respecting the politics of the
Highlands, 332. His letter to Lochiel,
333.
Teignmouth ; ravaged by the French under
Tourville, 652.
Tempest (a Jacobite agent from St. Ger-
mains); seized on the road to London,
593.
Temple, John (son of Sir Willbm); em.
ployed on business of high importance,
150. Introduces Richard Hamilton as
an agent to negotiate with Tyroonnel, 1 50,
151. Commits suicide, 1 76.
Temple, Sir WiUUm ; bis retreat, 14. His
rural seclusion, 150. His son John, I5a
176.
Tenison, Archbishop ; one of the Ecclesias-
tical Commissioners, 470. Entrustckl with
the business of examining the Liturgy,
475.
Test Act ; views of Nottingham concerping
the, 80. Attempt to relieve the DMsentert
from the, 99. Desire of the Whigs for its
abolition, 108. How viewed by the
Tories, 109. Rejection of a motion in
the Lords for the abolition of, 110.
Tillotson, Archbishop ; his semoon on Evil
Speaking, 53. His popolarity as a
preacher, 468. His character as a theo-
logian, 469. His imporUnce in the Ec.
clesiastical Commission, 470. Appointed
to the Deanery of St. PauPa, 486. Pro-
mised the Primacy, 486. His astonish-
ment and sorrow, 486. His testimony to
the humanity and kindness of HaliLx,
512,513.
Theban legion, the, 458, 459.
Thomas, M. ; his report on the defences of
Londonderry, 189. note.
Tralee, 138.
Transubstantiation ; Declaration against, S2.
498.
Treasurer, Lord High ; administration of
the office of, under William and Mary, 16.
Treasury, Board of; constitution of thf,
by William HI., 20. Solicitor to the,
importance of the duties of, 26. Corrup-
tion of, in the time of Charles 11. and
James IL, 26. Appointment of Aaroa
Smith, 26. Quarrels and jealousies of
the Commissioners of the, 65.
Treby, Sir George; appointed Attorney
General, 23. His opinion respecting the
revenues of James II., 34. His sugges-
tions for suppressing the rcvult of the
soldiers at Harwich, 40.
Treves ; saved from destruction by Madame
de Maintenon, 124.
Trevor, Sir John (Master of the Rolls);
his early life and gambling propensities,
548. His firiendship with Jeffreys 548.
His popularity among High Churchmen,
548. Undertakes the agency for parlia-
mentary bribery in the House of Com-
mons, 549. Elected Speaker of the
Commons 556,
" To horse, brave boys, to Newmarket, to
horse,** the song, 50.
THE THIRD VOLUME.
761
Tolbooth, the, of Edinburgh, 317. 328.
Toleration ; the question of, 80. The To-
leration Bill of Nottingham, 80, 81.
Relief granted by the Act, 83.
Toleration Act ; reriew of its provisions,
84. et seq. One passed by the Parliament
of James II. at Dublin, 208.
Torbay ; an army of volunteers formed
near, to repel the threatened French in-
vasion, 652, 653. The command taken
by Lord Lansdowne, 653.
Tories ; their submission, without loyalty,
to William and Mary, 7. Dangers ap-
prehended from them, 10. Their share
in the first government of William, 15.
Their jealousies and quarrels with the
Whigs in all the departments of the go-
yemment, 65, 66. Take the part of the
clergy at the discussion respecting the
Acts for settling the Oaths of Allegiance
and Supremacy, 104, 105. 109. Their
view of the Sacramental Test, 108. Their
satisfaction at the result of the Compre-
hension Bill, 112, 113. Their annoyance
at the introduction of the Corporation Bill,
517 — 520. Their muster in the House to
oppose the bill, 521 . Their triumph, 522.
Their renewal of the debate on the
Indemnity Bill, 523. The bill thrown
out, 524. Defeated on the discussion on
the Indemnity Bill, 528. Their gratitude
to William for proroguing Parliament,
533. A general election, 535. Four
Tories returned for the City of London,
535. Predominance of the Whigs in
1690, 537. Their parliamentary bribery,
545, 546. The Tories admitted to a
•hare in the government, 550. Their
nuyority in the House, 567. llie war be-
tween the two parties, 567. Debates on
the Abjuration Bill, 570 — 575.
Torrington, Herbert, Earl of; receives
signal marks of the favour of the Crown,
433. His maladministration of the navy,
433. His vices, 501. His anger at l)eing
removed from the Admiralty, 550. His
displeasure appeased, 550. Takes com-
mand of the fleet in the Downs, 604.
Joined by the Dutch under Evcrtsen, 604.
Retreats before t!ie French towards Dover,
605. Ordered to give battle to Tour-
ville, 605. Baseness of his arrangements
of battle, 607. Gives the French battle,
608. Defeated, and escajies into the
Thames, 608. Sent to the Tower, 614.
Consultation amongst the Judges relative
to his trial, 714, 715. Brought to trial
and acquitted, 716. Dismissed by the
King from the service, 717.
Torture; always declared illegal in Eng-
land, 289. Declared by the Scottish
VOL. HI. 3
Claim of Rights to be, under certain cir-
cumstances, according to law, 290. 700.
Tourville, Admiral of the French fleet;
cruises in the British Channel, 603, 604.
His seamanlike qualities, 604. Accepts
battle from Torrington, 608. Defeats
Torrington at the battle of Beachy
Head, 608. His timidity of responsi-
bility, 609. His unopposed range of the
Channel, 649. His galleys and their
crews, 649. Their practical value, 650.
Ravages Teignmouth, 652. His exploiu
inglorious and impolitic, 654.
Turenne, Marshal, 49. His ravages in the
Palatinate, 123.
Turks; their alliance with France against
the great coalition, 436. Their military
tactics in Servia and Bulgaria, 436. Vic-
tories gained over them by Prince Lewis
of Baden, 436.
Turner, Bishop of Ely ; becomes a non-
juror, 453. His letter to James, 725.
Tutchin, John ; his visit to Jeffreys in the
Tower, 401.
Tjrrconnel, Lord Deputy; entrusted with
the designs of James II. in Ireland, 129.
Hopes of the Irishry centred in him, 133.
Lying Dick Talbot, 134. His alarm at
tlie news of the Revolution, 146. His
affected clemency, 146. Opens a nego-
tiation with William III., 149. He de-
termines to raise the Irish, 152. Sends
Mountjoy and Rice on an embassy to St.
Germains, 153. Arrives at Cork to meet
James II., 172. His improvements at
the Castle, 174. Carries the sword of
state before James, 175. Created a Duke,
183. Advises James to remain in Dub-
lin, 183. His share in the battle of the
Boyne, 627. 630, 631. Marches out
of Dublin, 641. Retires to Limerick,
663. Disapproves of holding Limerick,
667. Mean estimate entertained by the
French officers of his military qualities,
667. Retires to Gal way, leaving a strong
garrison in Limerick, 668. Goes with
Lauxun to France, 676.
Tyrconnel, Lady ( Fanny Jennings), 639.
Ulster, alarm of the people of, 133. et seq.
Mountjpy sent to pacify, 146. March
of Hamilton against the Protestants of,
162. Origin of the annual donation of
the government to the Presbyterians of,
618.
Uniformity, Act of; a grievance of the
Dissenting clergy, 82.
Union between England and Scotland ;
question of, raised, 253. Blessings of the
union of 1707, 257.
762
INDEX TO
Verrio ; his frescoes at Hampton Court, 56.
Versailles; farewell visit of James II. to,
166.
Victor Amadous, Duke of Savoy ; joins the
league against France, 710. His mili-
tary fame, 710.
Walcourt ; skirmish between the Dutch and
English and French at, 4S7.
Waldeck, Prince; his command of the
Dutch and English in the war with
France, 437. Defeated at Fleurus by
the French under the Duke of Luxem-
burg, 609. 661.
Walker, the Reverend George; calb the
people of Londonderry to arms, 1 91 . Ap-
pointed one of the governors of the city,
195. Unjustly accused of concealing
food, 233. His statue on the bastion,
239. The Walker Club, 24a His ar-
rival in London, 503. His popularity,
503. His gracious reception by the King
at Hampton Court, 503. Accused of
publishing a partial account of the siege
of Londonderry, 504. Obtains a grant
from the Commons for the widows and
orphans of the defenders of Londonderry,
505. Thanked by the House for his zeal
and fidelity, 505. Appointed by Wil-
liam III. to the see of Derry, 626. Ac-
companies the army of William, 627.
His share in the battle of the Boyne, 633.
Shot dead, 633.
Walker, Obadiah ; his impeachment for
treason, 511. Sent to the Tower, 511.
War declared against France, 127, 128.
Ward, Seih, Bishop of Salisbury ; his death,
75.
Warrington, Earl of; Delamere created,
529. See Delamere.
Wash, the ; state of the country near the, at
the time of tlie Revolution of 1688, 41.
Waterford; taken by William III., 662.
Watford; Scotch troops of James II. sta-
tioned near, 268.
Weems Castle, 364.
Wellington, Arthur, Duke of; reference to
him, 414.
West Indies ; trade of, at the time of the
Revolution, ^256.
Wharton, Lord ; his speech on the Abju-
ration Bill, 574,
Whigs; their attendance at Court on the
evening of the proclamation of William
and Mary, 1. Peculiarity of their fond-
ness for the new monarchs, 11. The
Whig theory of government, 11. Their
share in William's hrst government, 15.
Their jealousies and quarrels with the
Tories in all the departments of the go-
vernment, 65y 66, Concessions of the
goverament to the, 81. Division smoDg
the, respecting the ComprehensioD Bill,
99. Oppose the clergy at the diacusnoos
on the Acts for settling the Oaths of Al-
legiance and Supremacy, 103. Their
view of the Sacramental Test, 109, lia
Their objections to an Ecclesiastical Com-
mission for revising the liturgy and e»-
nons, no, in. Pleasure which the
result afforded them, 1 13. Elections for
the shires and burghs to the Scottish
Convention almost all fall on Whigs, 249.
Their support of the Duke of Hamiltoa
in the Convention, 272. They elect bim
as President, 273. Conduct of the Whig
Club of Edinburgh, 377, 378. Reve-
rence with which the Whigs of England
regarded the memory of Lord William
Russell, 380, 381. Redress obuined by
some living Whigs for injuries sustaiaed
during the preceding reign, 382. Dis-
satis&ction of the Whigs with William,
404. Their views of the end for which all
governments had been instituted, 449.
Their ostentatious triumph over the di-
vided priesthood, 450. Their violence
and vindictiveness in the House of Com-
mons, 509. Tlieir crafty conduct on the
Corporation Bill, 516. Their successful
opposition to the Indemnity Bill, 525—
528. Their triumph over the Tories,
528. Their opposition to the King going
to Ireland, 530. Lesson they receive
from the King, 532. A general election,
534. Their artifices and exertions in the
City of London, 5S5, Four Tories re-
turned for the City, 535. Their parlia-
mentary bribery, 545, 546. Discontent
of the Whigs at the successes of the To-
ries, 551. 53'i, Dealings of some of the
Whigs with Saint Germains 553. 'ITieir
wary tactics in the House, 567. 'I'beir
artful parliamentary war with the Tone*,
567. Their only victory during the whole
session, 569. Stormy debates on the .Ab-
juration Bill, 570. 575. Their vindictire-
ness against the nonjuring bishops, 659.
Their animosity against Caermarthen,
718.
White. Bishop of Peterborough ; becomes a
nonjuror, 453.
Whitehall ; scene at the Banqueting House
of, 1. Removal of the Court from, to
Hampton Court, 54. William and Mary
accept the Crown of Scotland in the
Council chamber at, 291 , 2<>2.
Wicklow ; lawlessness in, at the time of
Tyrconnel's rebellion, 157.
Wight, Isle of; the hostile fleets of Eng-
land, Holland, and France lying off,
604.
THE THIBD VOLUME.
763
Wildman ; appointed Postmaster General,
26.
Wilkie ; reference to his Epigoniad, 312.
William III. ; proclaimed King, 1. Gor-
geous assemblage at the palace on the
evening of the proclamation, 1. Re-
joicings throughout England and in Hol-
land, 2. His letter to the States General,
S. Begins to be anxious and unhappy, 3.
Discontent of the clergy and army, 3.
Abatement in the public entbusiarim for
the new monarchs 4. Reactionary feel-
ing amongst the people. 5. Dangers of
the government, 7. William's reserva-
tion to himself of the direction of foreign
affuirs, 14. His peculiar fitness for foreign
negotiation, 14. His selection of his first
ministers and high officers, 15. His state
visit to the Convention, 29. His proposal
to abolish hearth money, 32. His mea-
sures for the suppression of the revolt of
the soldiers at Ipswich, 41. His politic
clemency to the leaders of the relMiHion,
42. His unpopularity, 48. His manners,
48, 49. His talents, 49. How regarded
by foreigners, 49. And by Englishmen,
50. His freezing manners compared with
the vivacity and good nature of Charles
II. and the sociableness of James II., 50.
His incivility to the Princess Anne, 51.
His bad English, 51. Incapable of en>
joying our literature, 52. His dislike of
backbiting, 52. His ill health, 54. Re-
moves from Whitehall to Hampton Court,
53, Architecture and gardening his fa-
vourite amusements, 55. His palace of
Loo, 55, 56. Discontent excited by the
removal of the Court from Whitehall, 57.
Resides for a time at Holland House, 58.
Purchases Kensington House, 58. His
foreign favourites, 58. His reputation
lowered by the maladministration of the
two previous reigns, 62. Dissensions
among his ministers, 63. His difficulties
in consequence, 67. His excellent manage-
ment of the department of Foreign Affairs,
67. Religious disputes, 69. His views
respecting ecclesiastical polity, 74. Ap-
points Burnet to the vacant see of Salis-
bury, 75. His conduct respecting the
Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy pro-
posed to be exacted firom the clergy, 108.
Promises Parliament to summon Convo-
cation, 113. Passing of the Coronation
Oath, 117. His coronation, 117, 118.
Honours bestowed by him, 120. Ac-
complishes the formation of the great
coalition against France, 122. Receives
an address from the Commons condemning
the barbarities of Lewis in the Palatinate,
128. War declared against France, 128.
Manifesto of William, 128. Effect in
Ireland of his march to London, 146, 147.
His negotiation with the Lord Deputy
Tyrconnel, 147. Open rebellion of Tyr-
connel, 1 52. et seq. Landing and recep-
tion of James II. in Ireland, 170 — 174.
Discontent of the multitude in England
with the neglect of William, 175. His
letter to the brave and loyal inhabitants
of Londonderry, 239. Dispenses with
the Act depriving Presbyterians of the
elective franchise, 248. Outrages of the
Covenanters in Scotland, 249. Their
conduct offensive to William, 251. His
opinions about Church government in
Scotland, 259. His recommendations to
the Scottish Episcopalians, 260. His
letter to the Convention, 262. His in-
structions to bis agents in Scotland, 263.
Absurd story about William and Viscount
Dundee, 269. note. His letter to the
Scottish Convention read, 278. They re-
turn him a letter of thanks, 282. They
proclaim him King in Edinburgh, 287.
Accepts the Crown of- Scotland, 291.
His wisdom and dignity on this occasion,
292, 293. His ministerial arrangemento
in Scotland, 294, 295. War breaks out
in the Highlands of Scotland, 300. The
war suspended, 301. The Covenanters'
scruples about taking up arms for King
William, 343. The battle of Killiecrankie,
360, 36 1 . William proposes to the Lords
that the crown should be entailed on
Sophia of Brunswick, 394. Acts as
sponsor to the son of the Princess Anne,
395. Dissatisfaction of the Whigs with
William, 404. Preparations for a cam-
paign in Ireland, 410. WiUiam*s diffi-
culties in foreign affairs, 435. Meeting
of Convocation, 476. The clergy ill
affected towards him, 477. His warrant
and message to Convocation, 491. His
inquiry into the state of the navy, 500.
His displeasure with the Tories respect-
ing the Corporation Bill, 519. His
anxiety respecting the result of the bill,
521 . His weariness of the contentions of
Whigs and Tories, 528. He purposes to
retire to Holland, 529. Induced to change
his resolution, 530. Determines to pro-
ceed himself to Ireland, 530. The Whigs
oppose his going, 530. He prorogues
Parliament, 531, 532. Gratitude of the
Tories to him, 533. His conciliatory po-
licy, 534. Changes effected by the King
in the executive departments, 537. His
scruples respecting parliamentary bribery
overcome, 547. Hopes of the Jacobites
from his absence in Ireland, 555. His
speech on the opening of Parliament, 556.
764
INDEX TO THE THIBD VOLUME.
Not on good termv with the Prineess
Anne, 560. His visit to the Lords during
the debate on the Abjuration Bill, 574.
He sends dovrn an Act of Grace, 575.
Peculiar character of his clemency, 578.
He prorogues the Parliament, 579. The
Queen appointed to administer the go-
vernment during his absence in Ire*
land, 579. His preparations, 586. De-
spatches from St Germains to the Eng-
lish Jacobites delivered into his hands,
591. His difficulties, 593. His selection
of nine Privy Councillors for Mary's guid-
ance, 597. His serious remarks on Cla-
rendon's conduct, 599. His interview
with Burnet, 600. Sete out for Ireland,
600. His embarkation at Chester, 601.
Lands at Carrickfergus, and proceeds to
Belfiut, 615. Meets with Schomberg,
615. His joyful reception by the Pro-
testants, 616. His arrival made known
to James, 616, 617. His military ar-
rangements, 617. Bestows a donation on
the dissenting divines of Ubter, 61 8. His
popularity with his army, 618,619. His
march southward, 619. Reaches the val-
ley of the Boyne, and surveys the Irish
lines 622. State of his army, 624.
Alights and breakfasta at Oldbridge, 625.
Is wounded, 626. The battle of the
Boyne, 629. Heads the led wing himself,
680. Crosses the river, 633. Charges
in the thickest of the fight, and changes
the fortune of the day, 633. His disre-
gard of danger, 634. James's flight to
Dublin, 635. Losses sustained by the
two armies, 637. Advances to Duleek,
638. Surrender of Drogheda, 638. Wil-
liam enters Dublin, 643. Receives the
news of the defeat of Waldeck, 661.
Writes a kind letter to Waldeck, 661.
Intelligence brought of the defeat of Tor-
rington's fleet, 661. Takes Waterford,
and the fort of Duncannon, 662, Sets
out for England, 662. Returns to the
army at Cashel, 663. Receives a letter
from the Queen respecting a proposal of
Marlborough for reducing Cork and Kin-
sale, 663. Orders Marlborough to exe-
cute his plan, 663. Marches to besiege
Limerick, 66S, His artillery surprised
by Sarsfield, 669, 670. Repairs his loss.
and proceeds to batter the town, 671 . Hit
army suffers from the rains 674. l*b«
assault on Limerick unsuccessful, 674.
Raises the siege, 675. Returns to Eng-
land, 676. His progress to London, 677.
His reception, 677. His diflSculties with
the Scottish Parliament, 685. His ex-
clamation respecting Scotland and Ha-
milton, 686. Distrust and abhorrence
with which he regarded Montgomery, 698
The opinion of the nonjurors of Scotland
respecting William, 704. His dissatis-
faction with the ecclesiastical arrange-
ments in Scotland, 707. Sends a Com-
missioner and a letter to the General
Assembly, 708. Respectful answer of
the Assembly, 709. State of affairs on
the Continent, 709. Victor Amadeus of
Savoy joins the coalition, 710. William
reassembles the Parliament, 711. Hit
speech from the throne, 711. His dis-
missal of Torrington from the service,
717. Gives the vacant seals to Sidner,
719. A Jacobite conspiracy, 720. Tiie
plot discovered, 726. I'he Parliament
adjourned, 728. Sets out for the Congress
of the Hague, 728.
Williams, Doctor (afterwards Bishop of
Chichester); his diary of the proceedin<*s
of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, 471.
note.
Winnington, Solicitor General, 13.
Wirtemberg, Duke of. Sec Charles Frede-
ric, Duke of Wirtemberg.
Wolseley, Colonel ; sent to the assistance of
the Enniskilleners, 242. His qualifica-
tions, 242. His stanch Protestantism,
242. Defeats Mountcashel at the battle
of Newton Butler, 243. His share in
the battle of the Boyne, 62.>.
Wood's money ; allusion to, 216.
Worcester, Thomas, Bishop of; dies a non-
juror, 453.
Wren, Sir Christopher; his additions to
Hampton Court, 56.
Wycheriey, William ; his Country Wife, 5*J.
York, Archbishopric of; its former poverly,
483. Its present importance, 484.
Zulestein; appointed Master of the Robes,
24.
END OF THE THIRD VOLUME.
London :
A. and G. A. SPOTTiswoons,
New-streei-ik{uare.
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