■bH
MR
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
RIVERSIDE
Ex Libris
• ISAAC FOOT
SO, ,:,,,. '" .
HISTORY OF ENGLAND
1603 1642
VOL. I
LONDON ! PRINTED BY
»r.cT
LONDON : PK.NT- »■
ro NEW-STREET byv
srOTTISWOODE AND C .
AND PARUAMENi
HISTORY OF ENGLAND
FROM THE
ACCESSION OF JAMES I.
TO
THE OUTBREAK OF THE CIVIL WAR
1603-1642
BY
SAMUEL R. GARDINER, LL.D.
HONORARY STUDENT OF CHRIST CHURCH
PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY AT KING'S COLLEGE, LONDON ; CORRESPONDING
MEMBER OF THE MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY, AND OF
THE ROYAL BOHEMIAN SOCIETY OF SCIENCES
IN TEN VOLUMES
VOL. I.
1603-1607
LONDON
LONGMANS, G k E E N, AND CO.
1 84
All right* rtttrvtd
T>A390
Cx35
PREFACE.
In issuing in a connected form the works which have been the
labour of twenty years, my attention has necessarily been called
to their defects. Much material has accumulated since the
early volumes were published, and my own point of view is
not quite the same as it was when I started with the first years
of James I. I have therefore thoroughly revised and, in part,
rewritten the first portion of the book.
The most important contribution to the history of the
period is Mr. Spedding's edition of Bacon's Letters ami Life.
The mere fact that it has given us, for the first time, bacon's
letters in chronoloj ical order would he a cause lor the greatest
thankfulness. With the addition of Mr. Spedding's own com
ntary, the book is simply invaluable to the historian of
p< riod.
I may al 0 refer to Mr. I'attison's Isaac Casaubon and I >ean
Church's ' Essay on Andrewes ' in Leaders of English Theology.
Mr. Hamilton's Calendar of Domestic State Papers has advani ed
even since the publication of my lasl volume, and the
/< h Calendar of State Papers relating to the reign ol Jam* . I.,
I Mi ii i he ;ell and Frendergast, has entirely appeared since
I worked at that period. I cannol abstain from referring to
Mr. J. T. Gilbert's excellently chosen selection of [rish Si
I | ers printed in the Appendii es i o his Contemporary History
vi PREFACE.
of Affairs in Ireland, and his History of the Irish Confederation,
as, though only a few of them refer to the period with which the
present work is occupied, I hope to be able to make full use
of them when I come to deal with the Civil War.
Of MS. sources of information, which I had not at com-
mand in writing my first edition, I would specify the letters
preserved at Hatfield, access to which I owe to the kindness of
the Marquis of Salisbury, and the series of Roman transcripts
which are now accumulating in the Public Record Office.
Every month, and sometimes every week, brings a new addition
to this valuable collection, and I may probably be able in an
Appendix to the last volume to clear up some points left un-
settled.
I have also received permission from Earl Cowper to
examine the correspondence of Sir John Coke preserved at
Melbourne Hall, and from Mr. F. W. Cosens to see a collec-
tion of transcripts of Gondomar's despatches in his possession.
In the first edition the work opened with a somewhat
lengthy sketch of English history down to the death of
Elizabeth. The greater part of this is now omitted, partly
because it seems out of place, and partly because I have
recently given it to the world in a more mature form, in an
Introduction to the Study of English History written by me in
conjunction with Mr. J. Bass Mullinger.
CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.
CHAPTER I.
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
499-1272 National consolkl.
1272-1307 Reign of Edward I. .
English Parliamentary Go-
vernment .
1307-1399 The later Plantagenet
kings . . . .
1399-1485 The Lancastrian and
Yorkist kings
1435-1509 Reign of Henry VII.
1509-1547 Henry VIII. and the
Papacy
Aspirations of the Middle
Agi
The New Learning and the
Reformation .
Henry VIII. and Protes-
n tn
1547-1558 Reign of Edward VI.
and Mary
1558-1603 Difficulties of Eliza-
beth
h and Mary Si
d the ( atfa
h and the I'uritans
AGIO
PAGE
I
The Vestiarian Controversy-
18
I
Elizabeth decides against
the Nonconformists
J9
2
Enforcement of Conformity
21
Pre !'} terianism
22
3
Eng!)-.h Episcopacy
26
'1 he Royal Supremacy
27
4
( .1 indals archbishopric
28
5
The Prophesyings .
29
Su pension of Grindal .
3i
6
The Nonconformists and
the House of Commons .
3i
7
\\ hitgift's archbishopric .
1 he Court of High Com-
33
9
mission .
The Separatists and the
34
10
Mai prelate Libels
Reaction in Favour of the
37
1 1
abethan ' bun h
Hooker's A. t lesiastical
38
12
Polity . . ■
39
13
Ariosto, Cervantes, and
14
Spenser .
4'
[6
1 ii ,«iii ot Ehzabeth
43
CHAPTER II.
< in RCH AND 1 vi 1. in . ( 01 1 axil
1560-1572 Contra 1 between
:;:.iti<i and Scotland , 44
I and lb''
ility ■ • 45
1 Bishops . ■;'>
I hi ■ ■ '■■■>•■ 1 ok ol I >is-
cipline . . -47
1 1. ratter of James VI. .
1572
1584 Juri ill' nun restored to the
Bishop .
1 .• 1 n byti rianism re ton d .
1593 Defeat of the Northi ru
.
Jam!
to make full ui e ol bu
victory .
5°
50
5°
51
vni
CONTENTS OF
TACE
1594 Exile of the Earls of Huntly
and Errol . . . 52
1596 Return of the Earls . 52
Andrew Melville . . 53
Quarrel between the King
and the Ministers . 54
Black's Sermon . . 56
Black summoned before
the Council . . S8
Resistance of the Ministers 59
Banishment of Black . . 61
Tumult in Edinburgh . 63
1597 James reduces Edinburgh
to submission . . 65
Proposed admission of
representatives of the
clergy to Parliament
James supported by the
Northern clergy
Restrictions imposed on
the clergy .
Absolution of Huntly and
Errol
Parliament supports the
66
66
69
70
re-establishment of Epis-
copacy
1598 The Assembly agrees to
appoint clerical repre-
sentatives in Parliament
James inclines to the re-
establishment of Epis-
copacy .
The Basilicon Doron .
1599 Bishops appointed
The new Bishops not
aeknowledged by the
Church .
The English succession .
The Infanta and the Suf-
folk line
James and Arabella Stuart
1601 Drummond's mission to
Rome
James's signature to a
letter to the Pope sur-
reptitiously obtained
1602 The secret correspondence
with Sir R. Cecil
PAGE
71
72
74
75
76
77
77
78
79
80
81
82
CHAPTER III.
JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS.
1603 Accession of James I.
Proceedings of the Council
James sets out from Edin-
burgh
Sir Walter Raleigh . .
Sir Robert Cecil .
1 ird Henry Howard .
Raleigh dismissed from
the Captaincy of the
Guard .
Quarrels between Scotch
and English
Grievances of the English
Catholics
Hopes of better treatment
from James .
Lindsay's Mission
The Pope's Breves
Letters of Northumberland
The Monopolies called in
- an and the Netherlands
' party in England
Cecil's views on peace with
a .
The Dutch embassy .
Rosny's mission .
Treaty of Hampton Court
with France
84
87
88
90
93
94
95
96
97
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
105
106
107
1604
Watson's plot , . io3
Information given by the
Jesuits . . . 113
The Recusancy fines re-
mitted . . -115
The Queen refuses to re-
ceive the Communion . 116
Cobham and Raleigh ar-
rested . . . 117
Evidence against them . 118
Case against Raleigh . . 120
Raleigh's attempted sui-
cide . . .121
Raleigh's trial. . .123
The verdict . . 135
Probable explanation of
Raleigh's conduct . . 136
I 1 ial of the other prisoners 133
Executions and reprieves . 139
Negotiation with the
Nuncio at Paris . . 140
James renews his assur-
ances to the Catholics . 141
Standen's mission . . 142
Increase of Catholics in
England . . T43
Proclamation for the ban-
ishment of the p.iests . 144
THE FIRST VOLUME.
IX
CHAPTER IV.
THE HAMPTON COURT COXFEREXCE AXD THE
PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION".
PAGE
1603 Bacon's Considerations
touching the Pacification
of the Church of Eng-
land . . . 146
James's attitude towards
the Puritans . . 147
The Millenary Petition . 148
Answer of the Universi-
ties . . . 150
James's proposals . 151
Touching for the King's
evil . . . . 152
1604 The Conference at Hamp-
ton Court . . 153
Death of Whitgift . . 159
The House of Commons . 160
The House of Lords . 162
Meeting of Parliament . 163
Sir Francis Bacon . . 164
PAGE
The King's speech . 165
Cases of Sherley and
Goodwin . . . 167
Recognition of the King's
title . . . 170
Purveyance . . .171
Wardship . . . 174
Proposed Union with Scot-
land . . . . 176
Church Reform in the
House of Commons . 178
The Apology of the Com-
mons . . . 180
Supply refused . .186
The trading companies . 187
Discussion on freedom of
trade . . .188
The King's speech at the
prorogation . . . 190
CHAPTER V.
THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY.
1604 Misunderstanding between
James and the House of
Commons . . 193
on a possible reconciler 194
The Canons of 1604 .
Archbishop Bancroft . 196
ngs against the
■ formists . . 197
1605 The Northampton hire
■ ^n . . . 198
Cecil's opinion 00 Non-
conformity . . 199
Expulsion of the Noncon-
formist 1 . 200
1604 James and the ( 'atholics . 201
• 203
1693 The Spanish monarchy . 204
1 ■ rma's foreign policy . 205
between
1 1 and and Spain . 20^
1604 COl
The Treaty of London . 214
The Spanish pensioners . 214
imercial treaty with
France . . .217
The blockade of the
Flemish ports .
Difficulty of preserving
ni ntr.ility
Proposed marriage be-
tween Prince I [enry and
the Infanta Anne
The Ri 1 11 ancy \» 1 1 irried
[nfc > effei 1 by the ji
The priests banished .
Pound's 1
11 .hi. v fines required
i the wealthy < atho-
lics . . . .
Sir James Lindsay sent to
'•■
1605 The Pope hopes to convert
land
I ia] es offei
'l he R© m ancy fin
1 i inboi ne 1 reati d 1 .irl of
liiiry
Difii' nlties in the way of
toleration .
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
224
226
227
230
231
CONTEXTS OF
CHAPTER VI.
GUNPOWDER PLOT.
1602 Winter's mission to Spain
1603 Catesby conceives the idea
of the plot
1604 Imparts it to Winter and
Wright
Fawkes and Percy in-
formed .
A house at Westminster
taken
The mine commenced
1605 A cellar hired
Fawkes sent to Flanders .
Garnet, Gerard, and
Greenway
Digby, Rokewood, and
Tresham admitted .
Preparations for a rising .
Were the Catholic peers
to be warned ?
PACE
PACE
234
Tresham turns informer .
The letter to Lord Mont-
247
235
eagle
The plot betrayed to the
248
236
Government
249
Capture of Fawkes
25O
237
Probable explanation of
Tresham's behaviour .
251
238
The conspirators' proceed-
239
ings in London
253
2.11
Their flight to the North .
257
242
The hunting at Dunchurch
2S8
Failure of the movement .
259
243
The conspirators take re-
fuge at Holbeche
262
244
Death and capture of the
245
conspirators
Character of the con-
263
246
spiracy .
264
CHAPTER VII.
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE
Examination of Fawkes . 265
Thanksgiving for the de-
liverance . . 266
Tresham's imprisonment
and death . . . 267
1606 Trial and execution of the
conspirators who had
been taken . . 268
The search at Hindlip . 270
Capture of Garnet . 271
His examination . . 272
His narrative of his con-
nection with the plot . 273
His trial . . . 277
The doctrine of equivoca-
tion . . . 2°.l
Garnet's execution . . 282
Trial of Northumberland
in the Star Chamber . 283
1605 Parliament opened and
adjourned . . . 235
1606 On its reassembling a new
Recusancy Act is passed
The oath of allegiance
Canons drawn up by Con-
vocation
The doctrine of non-resist-
ance
The King refuses to assent
to the canons
Effect of the oath of alle-
giance .
Financial disorder
James professes a wish to
be economical .
Bacon's position in the
I louse of Commons
Subsidies granted .
End of the session
Visit of the King of Den-
mark
286
288
289
290
291
292
293
296
297
298
299
300
CHAPTER VIII.
THE POST- NATL
1603 State of Scotland after the
King had left it . . 301
Causes of his success
against the Presbyterians 302
1604 He intends to allow no
more General Assem-
blies
1605 He fears that an Assembly
3C3
THE FIRST VOLUME.
XI
will attack the Bishops
and Commissioners . 304
Presbyterian opposition . 305
Meeting of ministers at
Aberdeen . . 306
They declare themselves
to form a General As-
sembly . . . 307
False account of their
proceedings sent to the
King . . . 308
Imprisonment of Forbes
p.nd five other ministers . 309
They decline to submit to
the Council's jurisdic-
tion . . . 310
1606 Trial of the ministers . 311
Their banishment . . 315
Imprisonment of eight
other ministers . . 316
Position of the bishops . 317
Andrew Melville and seven
other ministers brought
to London . . 318
His verses, imprisonment,
and banishment . . 319
The Linlithgow Conven-
tion and the Constant
Moderators . . 320
Causes of the King's suc-
cess . . . . 322
Opening of the English
Parliament . . 324
Report of the Commis-
sioners for the Union . 324
Free trade and naturalisa-
tion . . . 325
The Post-nati and the
Ante-nati . . . 326
King urges the f'ora-
mons 1 t the
scheme of the Commis-
sion' . . 328
on commei
Intercom . . 329
1607 Violence of Sir C. Pigott
Debates on naturalisation
Speech of Fuller .
And of Bacon .
Coke's opinion
Proposal of the Commons
Fresh intervention of the
King
Abolition of hostile laws
and extradition of crimi-
nals
Prisoners to be tried in
their own country .
Bacon Solicitor-General .
Relations between Eng-
land and Spain
Sea-fight off Dover
Ill-treatment of English-
men in Spain
Proposed marriage be-
tween Prince Henry and
the Infanta Anne
Kcwce's arrest
Franceschi's plot .
The trade with Spain .
The Spanish company op-
posed in the House of
Commons
The merchants' petition .
Spanish cruelties .
The Commons send the
petition to the Lords .
Sili bury advises patience
Northampton's contemp-
tuous language .
Parliament prorogued
I )i .tin I iani es about cn-
closure
1608 The case of the Post-nati
in the Exchequer < !ham-
ber . . .
The Post-nati natural] • d
by the judges
The I Hi' 01 abandoned
PAGE
330
331
331
332
334
336
338
340
340
34i
342
343
344
345
347
343
349
35^
351
352
353
354
354
355
356
CHAPTER IX.
THE PACIFICATION 01 IRELAND.
1169-1529 The No rin. in f'on-
quest of Ireland . . 3^8
ind in the Middle Ages 359
1529-150''. Ireland in the time ol
the 1 . 360
1598 The defeat on the Black-
water . . . 3'ji
1^99 F ex in I" land . . 3G2
Mountjoy In Ireland .
1603 Submi lion Ol tin- ■ -ountry 1
i m< esoi the town
1 . ' ..,. e it I oik . . 367
Propo ied h igue betw
tlr 1 ...
XI 1
COXTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
Mountjoy suppresses their
tance
He returns to England.
and becomes Earl of
Devonshire
Sir George Carey Lord
Deputy
1604 Sir Arthur Chichester Lord
Deputy .
1605 Social condition of Ireland
The septs and the chiefs .
The Government wishes to
introduce English cus-
toms
1603 Condition of Leinster and
Munster.
Of Connaught and Ulster.
The first circuit in Ulster .
The Earl of Tyrone .
Sir John Davies .
1605 Proclamations for disarm-
ament, and an amnesty
i ii.i'
Protection to be given to
369
the Tenants
384
Chichester's visit to Ulster
386
Treatment of the Irish
371
Catholics
The Dublin aldermen sum-
388
372
moned before the Castle
Chamber
392
373
Protest of the Catholics .
394
374
1606
Proceedings against the
375
Catholics in Munster .
Chichester's views on per-
39S
secution
396
377
1607
Relaxation of the persecu-
tion
399
378
Indictment of Lalor .
400
379
Chichester's efforts to re-
380
form the Church
401
381
1606 Chichester's second visit to
382
Ulster . . .
Wicklow made into shire-
402
383
ground .
406
CHAPTER X.
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER.
1607 Dissatisfaction of the
Defeat and death of
Northern chiefs .
408
O'Dogherty .
428
Tyrone's quarrel with
The massacre on Tory
O'Cahan
409
Island .
430
O'Cahan refers his case to
1609 Neill Garve and O'Cahan
the Government
411
sent to England
43i
Information given of a con-
Scheme of the Commis-
spiracy .
413
sioners in London for
O'Cahan's case to be heard
the settlement of Ulster
432
in London .
414
Difference between their
The flight of the Earls .
416
scheme and that of
Precautions taken by the
Chichester
433
Government
4X7
Bacon's views on the sub-
Chichester's views on the
ject . . . .
435
settlement of Ulster . .
418
Chichester's criticism
436
Quarrel between O'Cahan
Publication of the scheme
and the Bishop of Deny
419
of the Commissioners .
437
Sir George Paulet at Derry
420
1610 Chichester's appeal on be-
O'Dogherty attacked by
half of the natives .
438
'■t .
421
The removal of the Irish .
439
The Assizes at Lifford and
Discontent in Ulster
440
Strabane
422
Material progress of the
1608 Intrigues of Neill Garve .
423
colony
441
O'Dogherty 's rising
424
Mai- illustrating the Gunpowder Plot
240
HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER I.
THE TUDOR MONARCHY.
The first eight centuries of English history were centuries of
national consolidation. Gradually petty tribes were merged
449-1272. in larger kingdoms, and kingdoms were merged in
Nation*! trig nation. The Norman Conquest, which created a
fresh antagonism of race, softened down territorial
antagonisms. Then followed the process by which the English
and the Norman races were fused into one. In the reign of
Henry II. the amalgamation had been completed, ami the
union between classes was strengthened by the bond of a
common n to the tyranny of John, and to the sub-
serviency of Henry III. to foreign interests. Fortunate!) for
England she found in the son of Henry III. a king who was
a thorou h Ei lishman and who was as capable as he was
patriotic
When Edward I. reached mai tate, he found his
countrymen prepared to rush headlong into civil war. When
he died, he left England welded together into a
p, r COmpaCi and harmonious body. It was the null of
1 "udL the early consolidation of the state and nation that,
however necessary a Strong royal authority still was, tin- duty
of directing the course of progress could be safely entrusted to
VOL. I. B
2 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. ch. i.
the nation itself. It was not here, as it was in France, that the
choice lay only between a despotic king and a turbulent and
oppressive baronage — between one tyrant and a thousand. A
king ruling in accordance with law, and submitting his judg-
ment to the expressed will of the national council, so that the
things which concerned all might be approved of by all, was
the ideal of government which was accepted by Edward I.
The materials of a Parliamentary constitution were no
doubt ready to Edward's hand. The great councils of the
^., „ ,. Norman kings were no more than the Witenagemots
The Parha- ... ,
mcms of of earlier times in a feudal shape, as by subsequent
modifications they ultimately took the form of the
modern House of Lords. During the reigns of the Conqueror
and his sons, they were occasionally held. Under Henry II.
they met more frequently, to take part in the great questions
of the time, and to give their sanction to the reforms proposed
by the king. When John and his son were upon the throne,
the great barons saw the necessity of uniting themselves in
their opposition to the Government with the lesser knights and
freeholders, and accordingly, at that time, representatives of
this class began to be present at their meetings. Towards the
end of the contest Simon of Montfort summoned burgesses
from a few towns which were likely to support his party. The
advantages to be derived from these changes did not escape
the sagacious mind of Edward. 'Without a single afterthought,
or reservation of any kind, he at once accepted the limitation
of his own powers. To the Parliament thus formed he sub-
mitted his legislative enactments. He requested their advice
on the most important administrative measures, and even
yielded to them, though not without some reluctance, the last
remnant of his powers of arbitrary taxation.
He had his reward. Great as were his achievements in
peace and war, the Parliament of England was the noblest
:;sh monument ever reared by mortal man. Perhaps the
.'ao'l^vem- day may come when that Parliament will think that
the statue of Edward ought to occupy the place in
Palace Yard which has been so unworthily taken possession of
by the one among our long line of sovereigns who has the least
1272-1307 THE PARLIAMENTARY KINGSHIP. 3
claim to be represented in connection either with Westminster
Hall or with the Houses of Parliament. Many things have
changed, but in all main points the Parliament of England, as
it exists at this day, is the same as that which gathered round
the great Plantagenet. It is especially the same in that which
forms its chief glory, that it is the representative not of one
class, or of one portion of society alone, but of every class and
of every portion which, at any given time, is capable of repre-
sentation. Every social force which exists in England makes
its weight felt within the walls of Parliament. The various
powers of intellect, of moral worth, of social position and of
wealth find their expression there. Lords and prelates, knights
and burgesses, join, as they have ever joined, in making laws,
because each of these classes of men is capable of forming an
opinion of its own, which in its turn is sure to become an
element in the general opinion of the country ; and because
each of them is destined to share in the duty of carrying into
execution the laws which have been made.
Nor was it of less importance that those who came up to
Parliament should come, not on behalf of their own petty
interests, but as representatives of their common country.
Happily, the men who composed the Parliament of Edward I.
had learned this lesson in opposition to a long course of
arbitrary power, and they were not likely to forget it when they
were summoned to share the counsels of a truly national king.
So it was that the step which seemed to divide the powers of
the State, and in the eyes of some would appear likely to
introduce weakness into its government, only served to increase
its strength. Edward was a far more powerful Sovereign than
his father, not so much by the immeasurable superiority of his
genius, as because he placed the basis of his authority on a
broader too!
Yet, wide as the basis of government had become, England
in the fourteenth century could not afford to dispense with a
'3°7-tw9- strong monarchy. The aim of the nation was not,
N' • ' "f as it afterwards became in the seventeenth century,
monarchy, the restriction of the powers exercised by the Govern-
ment, but the obtaining of guarantees that those powers should
B 2
4 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. I.
be exercised in the interests, not of the Sovereign, but of the
nation. Hence the popularity of every king of England who
made it his object to fulfil the duties of his office. A Sovereign
who neglected those duties, or one who made use of his high
position as a means to pamper his own appetites, or those of
his favourites, was alike ruinous to the fortunes of the rising
nation. England needed a strong hand to hold the reins,
and it knew well what its need was. At all costs a government
must be obtained, or anarchy would break out in its wildest
forms. What the people felt with regard to the royal
Illustration , • i , , , • , ,• ,
from • Piers > office was admirably expressed by a writer who lived
in the latter part of the reign of Edward III. After
telling the well-known fable of the attempt made by the rats to
bell the cat,1 he proceeds to add a sequel of his own. In his
story the cat, of course, represents the king, the rats stand for
the nobles, and the mice for the common people. He informs
us that after the council of the rats had broken up, a little
mouse stepped forward to address the assembly, which then
consisted of a large number of mice. He warned them that
they had better take no part in any attempt against the life, or
even against the power, of the cat. He had often been told
by his father of the great misery which prevailed when the cat
was a kitten. Then the rats gave the mice no rest. If the
cat injured a mouse or two now and then, at all events he kept
down the number of the rats.
It was difficult in a hereditary monarchy to find a worthy
successor to Edward I. Edward II. was deservedly deposed.
The later ^'s son' Edward III., kept England in peace at
piantagenet home by engaging it in a war of foreign conquest.
Richard II. succumbed to the difficulties of his situa-
tion, augmented by his own incapacity for the task of govern-
ment.
The Revolution of 1399 placed the family of Lancaster on
13^1435. the throne. Ruling as it did by a Parliamentary
SstrLan"' title> il was unable to control the power of the great
tings. barons. Parliament was strong, but in Parliament
the weight of the House of Lords was superior to that of the
1 I'icrs Ploughman, 1. 361-413.
1399-MS5 STRENGTHENING OF GOVERNMENT. 5
House of Commons, and the lay members of the House of
Lords had an interest in diminishing the power of the king,
in order that they might exalt their own at the expense of the
classes beneath them. Complaints that the kingdom was un-
done for want of governance were increasingly heard, and
waxed louder than ever when the sceptre fell into the hands of
a ruler so weak as Henry VI.
In the Wars of the Roses which followed, the great lords,
though nominally defending the crown of their Sovereign, were
The Wars of in reality fighting for themselves. Personal con-
ies- siderations, no doubt, often decided the part which
was taken by individuals in the wars of the Roses, but in the
main the aristocracy was Lancastrian, whilst the strength of
the House of York lay in the lesser gentry, and the inhabitants
of the towns. To the Percies and the Cliffords it was an ad-
vantage that there was no king in the land. To the humbler
classes it was a matter of life and death that a strong hand
should be ever on the watch to curb the excesses of the nobility.
As long as the struggle was between a Yorkist king and the
incapable Henry, there was no doubt which was the popular
hero. When the question narrowed itself into a merely personal
struggle between two competitors of equal ability, the people
stood aloof, and left it to a handful of interested persons to
ide at Bosworth the disputed right to the crown of
■id.
With Henry VII. the Tudor dynasty ascended the throne.
He took up the work which the kings of the House of York
,.,„,. had essayed to accomplish— that of establishing a
VM- strong monarchy, powerful enough to supp]
anarchy, and to hinder the great nobles from pillaging and
ill-treating the middle < lasses. By putting in fori e the Statute
., ol Liveries, Henry VII. threw obstacles in the way
ofLiveri* .. 0f the formation of feudal armies wearing the uniform
of their lord By the enlarged jurisdiction which he gave to
the Court of star Chamber, he reai h< d « ulprits t< 0
high to be made ami nable to the ordinary processes
of law. That Court, unpopular as it afterwards became,
now employed in a populai 1 it e. it brought down punish-
6 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. I.
ment on the heads of the great, when it was difficult to find a
jury which would not be hindered by fear or affection from
bringing in a verdict against them, even if it could be sup-
ported by the strongest evidence.
Such a work could not be done by a weak king. The
middle class — the country gentry and the tradesmen — were
Stren th f strong enough to give support to the sovereign, but
the Tudor they had not as yet that organisation which would
have made them strong independently of him. In
consequence, the king who gave them security was reverenced
with no common reverence. Because very few wished to
resist him, those who lifted hand against him fell under the
1509-1547. general reprobation. Henry VII., and still more
Henry vm. Henry VIII., were therefore able to do many
things which no king had ever done before. They could
wreak their vengeance on those who were obnoxious to them,
sometimes under the cover of the law, sometimes without any
pretext of law. Their rule was as near an approach to despot-
ism as has ever been known in England. But heavily as the
yoke pressed on individuals it pressed lightly on the nation.
One word which has come down to us from those times is
sufficient to point out the nature of the power which men
understood to be entrusted to the Tudor kings. Even when
their acts were most violent, the name by which what we should
call 'the nation' was spoken of was 'the commonwealth.'
Every class, even the king himself, had a position of its own ;
but each was expected to contribute to the well-being of the
whole. Above all, the king had no standing army, still less a
Dody of foreign mercenaries to depend on. His force rested
entirely upon public opinion, and that opinion, inert as it was
on questions affecting individual rights, was prompt to take
alarm when general interests were at stake.
The specially constitutional work of Henry VIII. was the
admission of the House of Commons to a preponderating in-
increasing fluence in Parliament. No doubt he filled the House
• ofthe with his own creatures, and he suggested, and even
mons. put into shape, the measures adopted by it. For all
that, the general tone of the House was the tone of the nation
1509-47 THE BREACH WITH THE PAPACY. 7
outside, and before the expression of its wishes the House of
Peers was compelled to give way. The submission of that
which had hitherto in reality, as well as in name, been the
Upper House was disguised by the exclusion of a large number
of its clerical members through the dissolution of the monas-
teries, and by the creation of several new peerages in favour of
men who had risen by the King's favour from the middle
class.
The growth of the sentiment of national unity had,' during
the Middle Ages, gradually weakened the hold of the Papacy
England and on England. The refusal of Clement VII. to ap-
the Papacy. prove 0f tne divorce of Henry VIII. brought the long
contest to a crisis. The work commenced when the Conqueror
refused to pay Peter's Pence at the bidding of Gregory VII.,
and, carried on by Henry II., by Edward I., and by the
authors of the statutes of Provisors and Premunire, was brought
to an end by the Act of Appeals and the Act of Supremacy.
Ecclesiasti- England was, in ecclesiastical as well as in civil
denc"d''P<:n affairs, to be a nation complete in itself. The great
attained. object for which the nation had been striving for
centuries was at last attained. The supremacy of the national
Government over all individual men, and over all separate
classes, was achieved.
Henry had no intention of allowing any change of doctrine
in the English Church, but it was impossible for him to stop
the force of the currents which were influencing the thoughts
of his generation. The very consolidation of national power
which had weakened the papal organisation, had also sapped
the spiritual basis on which it rested. < Her all Western Europe
one uniform tendency of thought was at the bottom
Axmn • „ 1 ■ 1 ' 1 1 ,-1
of the Mid- of every movement during the whole course of the
Middle Ages. To I heck the unruly riot of indivi-
dual will, and to real li the firm ground of unity and ordi 1. was
the one prevailing aspiration which manifested itself in all
departments of human endeavour. The architects oi thi
cathedrals which were springing up in their beauty in ever) < ornei
of Europe took care, however irregular the ground plan ot the
building might be, to lead the eye to one tall spire or tower which
8 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. ch. I.
might give unity to their work. The one great poet1 produced
by the Middle Ages worshipped order and arrangement till he,
a citizen of Italian Florence, was absolutely driven to call upon
a German prince to bring under some kind of law, however
rugged, the too luxuriant humours of the burghers of Italian
cities. As it was with medieval poetry, so was it with
medieval science. Proud of its new-found pre-eminence, the
mind of man sat enthroned upon a height from whence it
summoned all things human and divine to appear before it,
and to give themselves up to the strict laws and the orderly
classification which were to be imposed upon them. There
were to be no obstinate questionings of the wild vagaries of
nature, no reverent confession of inability to comprehend all
its mysteries. The mind of man was greater than the material
world, and by logic it would comprehend it all. Religion could
not fail to follow in the same direction. The ideal of a people
is generally composed of every element which is most opposed
to the evils of their actual existence. With a people scarcely
escaped from barbarism, that form of self-denial could hardly
fail to be considered as the highest virtue which is shown, not
in active exertion, but in bringing into obedience the unruly
passions and the animal desires. The one way to the hearts
of men lay through asceticism, and asceticism was only to
be found in perfection in the monastery. The body was to be
condemned to a living death, and the spirit alone was to live.
The greatest saint was not the man who was most useful to the
Church, but the man who showed the greatest mastery over all
fleshly desires, and had most entirely cast off the feelings ot
our common nature : for it was this very power of self-restraint
which was most difficult of attainment by the impetuous spirit
of the ordinary layman. When kings foamed at the mouth and
cursed and swore at every trivial disappointment, it was only
natural that the most respected of the clergy should wear hair-
shirts and live like anchorites. Religious thought followed in
the wake of religious practice. There was one faith drawn out
1 Chaucer not being a medieval poet at all, except in point of time,
but standing in the same relation to Shakspere as that in which Wycliffe
stands to Luther.
1509-47 THE NEW LEARNING. 9
with the most complete exactness to the most infinitesimal con-
sequences, which the greatest minds might illustrate, but from
which they might not vary a hairbreadth. In every land one
worship ascended to God. clothed in the same holy forms, and
offered in the same sacred tongue. Men and the thoughts of
men might change as the changing billows of the sea, but there
was that amongst them which never changed. To Englishman
and Italian, to baron and serf, it told one tale, and inculcated
one lesson of submission to Him whose kingdom was above all
the earthly distractions and commotion in the midst of which
their lives were passed.
At last a great change came. The craving for discipline
found its satisfaction in the institutions of the State. Every-
Reartion where there was a reaction against asceticism, which
sought by crushing human nature to win a glimpse of
ism. ° J ° .
'j he new heaven. Once more, as in the ancient world, man,
and the world in which he lives, became the highest
object of the thought of man. The barriers by which the old
world had been hemmed in fell back, and the wonders of
creation revealed themselves in all their infinite glory on every
hand. The boundaries of the earth receded before the
hardy mariners of Spain and Portugal, and the secret of the
skies disclosed itself to Copernicus. The works of the great
masters of ancient thought were once more subjected to a
minute and reverent study. An architecture arose which was
regardless of all religious symbolism, but which based itself
on the strictest observance of mechanical law. Great artists
enchanted the world by painting men and women as they lived
and moved.
In Italy the new learning found itself in opposition to
the dominant religion, In England, where the Church had
■I with the world around it, there was
" no such violent shock of opinion, (diet and More
III. I- I
ii""- strove to reconcile the old world with the new, and
to mingle the life of a recluse with the life of a student. It was
this effort to harmonise separate modi - of though! which was
the distinguishing mark of the English Reformatioa If More-
shrunk back in this path, there were others who were ready to
io THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. !.
press on. Gradually, but surely, the received practices, and
even received doctrines, were brought to the test of human
reason and human learning. At first it was only plainly super-
stitious usages and impostures which were rejected. Later on
the doctrines of the Church were explained in such a way as to
meet logical objections, whilst Cranmer, intellectually bold if
he was morally weak, was preparing himself by long study of
the writings of the teachers of the early Church, to renounce
transubstantiation itself as inconsistent, not with the plain
words of Scripture, but with those words as interpreted by the
practice of the first ages of the Church.
The spirit of the new learning had thus drifted away from the
asceticism of earlier days. It found an ally in the spirit of Pro-
Protes- testantism. Luther had expressed the central thought
tantum. 0f Protestantism when he proclaimed the doctrine of
Justification by Faith ; it was the exact converse of the religious
idea of the Middle Ages. If you would be spiritual, said the
monks, put the body to death, and the spirit will see God and
live. Let the spirit live in seeing God, said Luther, and the
body will conform itself to His will.
This teaching of the direct personal relationship between
man and his Creator, was gradually to permeate the English
_.„ Church. Its introduction into England made govern-
DlfflCultlCS , , , TT T7-TTT r J 1 ■ 1/"
of Henry ment a hard task. Henry VIII. found himself con-
fronted with the duty of keeping the peace between
warring parties. The bulk of his subjects detested innovations,
and wished to worship and to believe as their fathers had done.
The Protestants were not numerous, but they were energetic.
The teaching of Luther soon gave way to the teaching of
Zwingli, which was even more antagonistic to the ancient creed ;
its disciples attacked, sometimes with gross scurrility, principles
and habits which were dear to the vast majority of Englishmen.
Amidst these warring elements, Henry felt it to be his duty
to keep the peace. He sent to the scaffold those who main-
Hi* treat- tained the authority of the Pope, and who, by so
doing, assailed the national independence. He sent
parties. t0 tne stake those who preached new doctrines, and,
by so doing, assailed the national unity. The work was done
1547-53 COURSE OF THE REFORMATION. u
roughly and clumsily ; oaths were tendered which never should
have been tendered, and blood was shed which never should
have been shed. With some higher motives was mingled
the greed which marked out as booty the broad abbey lands,
which were divided between Henry and his court. But Henry's
strength was, in the main, the result of his representa-
presentative tive character. The great mass of his subjects dis-
liked foreign interference as much as they disliked
Protestant opinions. Toleration was impossible, not merely
Toleration because the suppression of heresy had long been held
impossible. to be the bouncien duty of all who exercised autho-
rity, but because there was every reason to believe that if new
opinions were allowed to take root, and to acquire strength,
those who held them would at once .begin to persecute the
vanquished followers of the old creed.
Henry's resolute action doubtless did much to steady the
current of change, but he could not stay it. Causes beyond
the control of any human being were propelling the nation
forwards. The reaction against the medieval system of thought
IS47-I553- could not be checked. When Henry died, that
Edward vi. reaction came in as a flood. In the first, and still
more in the second, Prayer-Book of Edward VI., the two
tendencies of the age met. The individuality of religion was
guided by the critical spirit of the new learning. It was not to
xpected that SU< h work could be carried on without giving
nee. The majority of Englishmen looked on with alarm
tl images were torn down in the churches, and when
prayers which knew nothing of the sacrifice of the mass were
read in English. The selfishness and corruption of those who
rued in Ed ward's name did the rest ; and when Edward
died, Mary was welcomed as a restorer of a popular Church,
and of honest government
Five years after Mary's accession the nation had grown
weary of the yoke to which it had again submitted. By hei
marriage with Philip she offended the national feeling
1553-1558. .
1 nof of the country. By threatening to resume the abbey
lands she terrified the men who had made their for-
tunes by the Reformation. Above all, the sufferings of the
12 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. I.
martyrs warmed the hearts of the people into admiration for a
faith which was so nobly attested. The seeds which had been
sown by the Protestants during their brief season of prosperity
in Edward's reign were beginning to spring up into life.
Patriotism, selfishness, humanity, and religious faith combined
to foster the rising disgust which threatened to shake the
throne of Mary, and which at last found its expression in the
shout of triumphant joy which greeted the accession of her
sister.
Soon after Elizabeth ascended the throne the second
Prayer Book of Edward VI. was, with some not unimportant
is58ri6o3. amendments, declared to be the only form of prayer
JjJSi to be used in churches. Opinion, it was announced,
c-uhoMc'"1 was t0 ^e practically free ; but all must go to
worship. church, and the exercise of the Roman Catholic
worship was rigidly suppressed.1 The Queen had no wish
to deal hardly with those who remained steadfast in the
religion of their fathers, and she trusted to time and the
dying out of the old generation to make the whole nation
unanimous in accepting the new worship. She herself took no
interest in theological reasoning, and she miscalculated the
power which it still exercised in the world.
It was not long before conspiracies broke out within the
realm, and from without the tidings came that the Pope had
Conspiracies excommunicated the Queen, and had absolved her
SfItWlby subjects from their allegiance. In the background
j£n th0ef appeared Philip of Spain, the champion of the Holy
Spain. See. For us, who know the issue of the conflict, it
is almost impossible to realise the feeling of dismay with which
that mighty potentate was regarded by the greatest of the Powers
of Europe. There did not exist a nation which was not over-
awed by the extent of his territories. By means of Naples and
the Milanese he held Italy in a grasp of iron. Franche Comte"
1 The best defence of Elizabeth's treatment of the Catholics is to be
found in Bacon's tract, In frficcm memoriam Elizabeths (Works, vi. 298).
It must, of course, be received with some allowance ; but it is remarkable
as proceeding from a man who was himself inclined to toleration, and
written after all motives for flattering the Queen had ceased to exist.
1558-1603 ENGLAND AND SPAIN. 13
and the Low Countries served him to keep both France and
Germany in check. The great mercantile cities of Flanders —
the Manchesters and Liverpools of the sixteenth century — paid
him tribute. His hereditary dominions furnished him with
the finest infantry which had been seen in Europe since the
dissolution of the Roman Empire. Whatever life and intel-
Engiand is lectual vigour still remained in Italy was put forth in
bytfaf^tt furnishing officers for armies which fought in causes
thiThands of tnat were not ^eT own> an^ those officers were at the
Philip 11. disposal of the King of Spain. Nor was his power,
like that of Napoleon, limited by the shore. His fleet had won
the victory which checked the Turkish navy at Lepanto. The
New World was, as yet, all his own ; and, as soon as Portugal
had been added to his dominions, all that that age knew of
maritime enterprise and naval prowess was undertaken under the
flag of Spain. Great as his power was in reality, it was far greater
The growing to ^e imagination. It is no wonder that the Eng-
lish people, when they found themselves exposed
give, way. t0 the attacks of such an adversary, gradually forgot
those new principles of partial toleration which had not yet
settled deeply into the national mind. The doctrine put
forth at the accession of Elizabeth was, that conscience was
free, although the public exercise of any other than the estab-
lished religion was to be suppressed. Unsatisfactory as this
was, it was yet an immense advance upon the opinions which
had prevailed thirty years before. By degrees, however, the
Government and the Parliament alike re< eded from this position,
early as in 1563 an Act was passed by which the bishops
were empowered to tender the oath of supremacy, not only to
persona holding Church preferment or official positions in
the State, but to large bodies of men ; and it was enacted
that all who refused the oatli should be visited with severe
penaltii
The position of Elizabeth was still further complicated by
the untoward occurrence Of the flight of Mary Stuart into
Mary smart England, she did not come, a 1 has been oi
imagined, as a humble suppliant in sear< h oi a refuge
from her enemies. She came breathing vengeance Upon the
H THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. i.
nation by which she had been deposed, and demanding either
an English army to replace her on the throne, or permission to
seek similar assistance from the King of France. Elizabeth
hesitated long. She could not, even if she had wished it, grant
her the assistance of an English force ; and to look on while
she was being restored by a French army was equally impossible
in the condition in which European politics were at the time.
With Mary's claims to the English crown, a French conquest
of Scotland would only have been the precursor of a French
attempt to conquer England.
After long deliberation, Elizabeth chose the alternative
which for the time seemed to be most prudent. She must
Her im- have come at last to doubt the wisdom of her de-
amfexecu? cision. While Mary was lying within the walls of an
tiun. English prison, her name became a tower of strength
to the Papal party throughout Europe. The tale of her life,
told as it was in every Catholic society, was listened to as if it
had been one of the legends of the Saints. Every tear she
dropped put a sword into the hands of the Pope and the
Spaniard. There was not a romantic youth in Catholic Europe
who did not cherish the hope of becoming the chosen in-
strument by whose hands deliverance might reach the victim of
heretical tyranny. Jesuits and missionary priests swarmed over
from the Continent, and whispered hopes of victory in the ears
of their disciples. Incessant attempts were made to assassinate
Elizabeth. At last the end drew near ; the only end which
could well have come of it. Louder and louder the voice of
England rose, demanding that the witch who had seduced so
many hearts should not be suffered to live. After a long
struggle, Elizabeth gave way. The deed was done which none
of those had contemplated who, nineteen years before, had
joined in recommending the detention of the Scottish Queen,
although it was only the logical consequence of that fatal error.
If the Government and people of England dealt thus with
Mary herself, they were not likely to treat with mild-
lll-treatmcnt . .. , , . . , .
of the ness the supporters of her claims. Act after Act was
passed, each harsher than the last, against priests who
should attempt to reconcile any subject of the Queen to the
1558-1603 ELIZABETH'S VICTORY. 15
See of Rome, or should even be found engaged in the cele-
bration of mass. The laity were visited with fines, and were
frequently subjected to imprisonment. Harsh as these pro-
ceedings were, the mere fact that it was thought necessary to
justify them shows the change which had taken place since
Henry VIII. was upon the throne. Neither the arguments
put forward by the Government, nor those by which they were
answered, were by any means satisfactory. We shake our
heads incredulously when we hear a priest from Douai urging
that he was merely a poor missionary, that he was a loyal sub-
ject to the Queen, and that, if success attended his undertaking,
it would be followed by no political change.1 We are no less
incredulous when we hear Burghley asserting that the Govern-
ment contented itself with punishing treason, and that no re-
ligious question was involved in the dispute.
The old entanglement between the temporal and the
spiritual powers was far too involved to be set loose by
argument.2 Such questions can be decided by the sword
alone. The nation was in no mood to listen to scholastic
disputations. Every year which passed by swept away some of
the old generation which had learnt in its infancy to worship
at the Catholic altars. Every threat uttered by a Spanish
ambassador rallied to the national government hundreds who,
in quieter times, would have looked with little satisfaction
on the changed ceremonies of the Elizabethan Church. With
stern confidence in their cause and in their leaders, the English
people prepared for the struggle which awaited them. I .eagued
TheAr- w'1'' 'ne rising republic of the United Netherlands,
maria. jjjgy ljade defiance tO Philip and all his power. At
last the storm which had been for so many years gathering on
1 In the letten of the priests amongsl tin-' Roman Transcripts in tht
R.O., written in tin beginning of James's reign, Elizabeth is usually styled
the ' Pseudo-Regina.1
7 Bacon peaks of ' matters of religion au'l the Church, which in these
times by the confused nseof both swords arc b 0 intermixed with
considerations of estate, as most <>( the counsels of overeign prii 1
republics depend upon them.' — The Beginning of the History
Britain. Works, vi. 276.
i6 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. ch. I.
the horizon burst upon the English Channel. When the smoke
of battle cleared away England was still unharmed, riding at
anchor safely amidst the swelling billows.
As long as the great struggle lasted it could not but exercise
a powerful influence upon the mental growth of those who
Effects of witnessed it. On the one hand it favoured the
the conflict. growth of national consciousness, of the habit of
idealising English institutions, and above all of the great
Queen who was loved and reverenced as an impersonation of
those institutions. On the other hand it drove those in whom
the religious element predominated to accentuate the differ-
ences which separated them far more than they would have
done in time of peace. The Catholic whose zeal had been
stirred up by the new missionaries was far more hostile to
Protestantism, and to the Government which supported Protes-
tantism, than his father had been in the generation before him.
The Protestant caught eagerly at doctrines diametrically
opposed to those which found favour at Rome. He opposed
principle to principle, discipline to discipline, infallibility to
infallibility.
If, by the doctrine of justification by faith, Luther had ex-
pressed the central thought of Protestantism, it was
i^ic system" reserved to Calvin to systematise the Protestant
teaching and to organise the Protestant Church.
It was well that discipline was possible in the Protestant
ranks. The contest which was approaching called for a faith
, which was formed of sterner stuff than that of which
compared
with the Lutheranism was made. It was necessary that the
asceticism of. , , r • i /- -i ,- -i • i i i i
the Middle ideas of self-restraint and of self-denial should again
resume their prominence. There is in many respects
a close resemblance between the Calvinistic system and that of
the medieval Church. Both were characterised by a stern
dislike to even innocent pleasures, and by a tendency to in-
terfere with even the minute details of life. The law of God,
to which they called upon men to conform, was regarded by
both rather as a commandment forbidding what is evil than
as a living harmony of infinite varieties. The form of Church
government which was adopted in either system was regarded
155S-1603 CALVINISM. 17
as not only of Divine institution, but as being the one mould
in which every Christian Church should be cast. But here the
resemblance ended. The pious Catholic regarded close com-
munion with God as the final object of his life, after he had
been delivered from all selfish passions by strict obedience to
external laws and by the performance of acts commanded by an
external authority. The pious Calvinist regarded this com-
munion as already attained by the immediate action of the
Holy Spirit upon his heart. The course of the former led him
from the material to the spiritual. The course of the latter led
him from the spiritual to the material. One result of this
difference was that the Calvinist was far more independent
than the Catholic of all outward observances, and of all assist-
ance from his fellow-men. He stood, as it were, alone with
his God. He lived 'ever in his Great Taskmaster's eye.' His
doctrine of predestination was the strong expression of his
belief that the will of God ruled supreme amidst the changes
and chances of the world. His doctrine of the Atonement was
replete with his faith, that it is only by an act of God that the
world can he restored to order. His doctrine of conversion
was the form in which he clothed his assurance that it was only
when God Himself came and took up His abode in his heart
that he could do His will. There was that in these men which
could not be conquered. They were not engaged in working
out their own salvation ; they were God's chosen children. In
their hands they had the Word of God, and, next to that, they
had His Oracles written in their own hearts. They were liable
to mistakes, no doubt, like other men, and in all good faith
they complained of the corruption of their hearts ; but it was
not wonderful that in all critical conjunctures they fain ied
themselves infallible, because they imagined that their own
thoughts were sign-, to them of the voire of Cod. If He were
for them, who could he against them? Anchored on the
Ro< k of Ages, they I 011M safely bid <1< fi.iti< e to all the menaces
of the Pope and to all the armies of the mightiest potentates "I
Europe.
When Elizabeth ascended the throne, the Calvinistii iVSti 111
VOL. I. C
1 8 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. ch. i.
of belief had penetrated with more or less completeness into
the minds of the great majority of English Protestants. It
owed its success in part to the circumstance that, during the
it is favour- Marian persecution, so many of the English Protes-
ceivedin tants nad come under the influence of the leading
Ei'.zai^tivs """inds of the countries in which they passed the
accession. t;me 0f their exile ; but still more to its logical
completeness, and to the direct antagonism in which it stood
to the doctrines of the Roman Church.
As a system of belief, therefore, Calvinism had gained a
footing in England. Its system of Church government, and its
mode of carrying on the public worship of the congregation,
were likely to meet with more opposition. The English
Reformation had been carried out under the control of the
lay authorities. Such a Reformation was not likely to be
conducted according to strict logical rules. Feelings and
prejudices which could not be recognised by a thinker in
his study necessarily had a large share in the work which
had been done. The Calvinistic Reformation, on the other
hand, was, above all things, a clerical Reformation. During
the greater part of the sixteenth century the thought of Europe
was to be found, almost exclusively, in the ranks of the Pro-
testant clergy, and by far the greater part of the Protestant
clergy grouped themselves instinctively round the banner of
Calvin, the most severe and logical thinker of them all.
The first difference was caused by the revival of the Ves-
tiarian Controversy, as it was called, which had already given
. rise to much confusion during the reign of Ed-
rian Con- ward VI. The vestments which were finally adopted
by the Church of England, together with certain other
ceremonies, displeased the Calvinistic ministers, not only as
relics of Popery, but also as bringing ideas before their minds
which were incompatible with the logical perfection of their
system. They believed that the operations of Divine grace, so
far as they were carried on through human agency at all, were
attached to the action either of the written Word or of the
preaching of the Gospel upon the mind To imagine that the
heart could be influenced by outward forms and ceremonies,
153S-1603 NONCONFORMITY, 19
or that the spirit could be reached through the bodily organs,
was an idea which they were unable to grasp.1
The laity, on the other hand, as a body, did not trouble
themselves to consider whether or not such things fitted
into the religious theory which they had adopted. Certain
ceremonies and certain vestments had been abolished be-
cause they were understood to be connected with imposture
or falsehood. But they were unable to comprehend why a
man could not wear a surplice because he believed the
doctrines of predestination and justification by faith, or why he
could not reverently kneel during the administration of the
Communion because he was certain that that which he took
from the hands of the minister had not ceased to be veritable
bread and wine.
With all these feelings Elizabeth was inclined to sympathise.
Herself fond of outward pomp and show, she would have been
F.i> he h £»lad t0 see in use ratner more of the old forms than
those which she found it advisable to retain. But
on- there were grave reasons which justified her during
the earlier years of her reign, in her opposition to
those who clamoured for a simpler ritual. The great mass of
the clergy themselves were at heart opposed to Protestantism.
( H the laity, a very large number looked coldly even upon
moderate deviations from the forms to which, excepting for a
few years, they had been so long accustomed. Even those
who, from horror at the excesses of Mary, sympathised with
1 Of course they could not reject the two sacraments, but they con-
nected them with preaching as niucli B !e. In the Scottish I
- ! I iith "i 1500 we find : "That sacraments he rightly ministi
we judge two things requisite ; the one, that they lie ministrate by lawful
minister-., whom we affirm to he only those that are appointed to the
hing of the word, into whose mouth God bath pul some sermon ol
exhortation," &C. (Art. xxii.) On the other hand, their hatred o(
mality made them lays "We utterly condemn the vanity of those that
affirm sacraments to he nothing else hut naked and hare signs'' (Ait. KX1.)
I:, on remarked the prevalence of the same idea among I the 1 1
I .tans :" They have made it almost of the C ence ol the ocrami
the supper to have a . Bacon on th ( ontrovei
of the Church, Letttri and Lift, i. <p,.
c 2
20 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. ch. I.
the overthrow of priestly domination, were by no means
inclined to part with the decent forms and reverent ceremonies
which remained. If Elizabeth had carried out the Reforma-
tion in the spirit of Cartwright and Humphreys, many years
would hardly have passed before the House of Commons
would have been found supporting the principles which had
been maintained by Gardiner and Bonner in her father's reign.
What the tendency of those principles was, England had
learned only too well by a bitter experience.
It speaks volumes in favour of the conciliatory effects of
English institutions that Elizabeth was able to find amongst
the Calvinist clergy men who would assist her as bishops in
carrying out the settlement upon which she had determined.
They would themselves have preferred to see alterations made
to which she was unwilling to assent, but they were ready to
give up points which they judged to be comparatively unim-
portant, rather than to put the fortunes of Protestantism itself
in jeopardy. If, so late as in 15 71, Archbishop Parker had to
wiite that ' the most part of the subjects of the Queen's High-
ness disliketh the common bread for the sacrament,' ' we may
be sure that any general attempt to adopt the simple forms of
the Genevan ritual would have met with similar disfavour.
Even if Elizabeth had been inclined to try the experiment, she
could not have afforded to run the risk. There was, probably,
not more than a very little pardonable exaggeration in the
words which, in 1559, were addressed by Granvelle to the
English Ambassador. "It is strange," he said, "that you believe
the world knoweth not your weakness. I demand, what store
of captains or men of war have you ? What treasure, what
furniture for defence ? What hold in England able to endure
the breath of a cannon for one day? Your men, I confess,
are valiant, but without discipline. But, admit you had
discipline, what should it avail in division ? The people a
little removed from London are not of the Queen's religion.
The nobles repine at it, and we are not ignorant that of late
some of them conspired against her."2
1 Parker Correspondence, p. 373. 2 Wright's Queen Elizabeth, i. 24.
1 558-1603 CONFORMITY ENFORCED. 21
Strong, however, as the reasons were which urged all prudent
men to caution, it is not to be wondered at that there were
some of the Calvinistic clergy who refused to give
Some of the . °J °
way. Amongst their ranks were to be found seme of
the most learned men and the ablest preachers in
England. To them these trifles were of the utmost importance,
because in their eyes they were connected with a great principle.
To Elizabeth they were nothing but trifles, and her anger was
proportionately excited against those who upon such slight
grounds were bringing disunion into the Church, and were
troubling her in the great work which she had undertaken.
For some years she bore with them, and then demanded
obedience, on pain of dismissal from the offices which they
The Queen held. At the same time she repressed with a strong
gainst hand a little company of Nonconformists who held
them. their meetings in a private house, and committed to
prison those persons who had been present at these gather-
ings.
Those who know what the subsequent history of England
was are able to perceive at a glance that she had brought
herself into a position which could not be permanently main-
tained. As yet, however, the hope that all Englishmen would
continue to hold the same faith, and to submit to the same
ecclesiastical regulations, was still too lively for any earnest
men to see with indifference a separation of which none could
foretell the end. And, at hast until the generation had died
out which remembered tin- enticements of the Roman Catholic
inonial, it was only with extreme caution, if at all, that the
• tin^ clergy COUld In- allowed to take their places ill the
different parishes. At a later time the wisest Statesmen, with
ghley at their head, wire in favour of a gradual r< laxation
of the bonds which pressed upon the clergy. Excepting
perhaps in a few p towns, the time had not yet
come when this < mild be done with impunity.
It is unnecessary to say that Elizabeth was influenced by
other motives in addition to these, she regarded with sus-
]>i< ion all movements which were likely to undermine the
power of the Crown. She saw with instinctive jealousy that
22 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. I.
opposition might be expected to arise from these men on other
questions besides the one which was on the surface at the time.
This feeling of dislike was strengthened in her as soon as she
discovered that the controversy had assumed a new phase. In
her eyes Nonconformity was bad enough, but Presbyterianisin
was infinitely worse.
Calvinism was, as has been said, a clerical movement ; and
it was only to be expected that the system of Church govern-
Presbyterian ment and discipline which Calvin had instituted at
rhur"h°f Geneva should be regarded with favourable eyes by
government. ]arge numbers of the Protestant clergy. There is
not the smallest reason to doubt that these men honestly
believed that the government of the Church by presbyters,
lay-elders, and deacons was exclusively of Divine appointment.
But it cannot be denied that such a system was more likely to
find acceptance among them than any other in which a less
prominent position had been assigned to themselves. The
preacher was the key-stone of Calvin's ecclesiastical edifice.
Completely freed from any restraint which the authorities of
the State might be inclined to place upon him, he was to be
supreme in his own congregation. This supremacy he was to
obtain, it is true, by the force of eloquence and persuasion
combined with the irresistible power of the great truths which
it was his privilege to utter. His hearers would choose lay-
elders to assist him in maintaining discipline, and in the
general superintendence of the congregation, and deacons who
were to manage the finances of the Church. But as long as he
had the ear of his congregation he stood upon an eminence
on which he could hardly be assailed with impunity. What-
ever matters involved the interests of more than a single
congregation were to be debated in synods, in which, although
laymen were allowed to take no inconsiderable share, the
influence of the ministers was certain to predominate.
In Scotland, where this scheme was carried out, there were
Presbytc- few obstacles to its success. There the aristocracy
acceptable wno na<^ ta^en Part m tne Reformation were satisfied,
in England. for the time, with plundering the Church of its pro-
perty, and were far too backward in civilisation to originate any
1553-1603 rRESBYTERIAXISM. 23
ecclesiastical legislation of their own. As a spiritual and in-
tellectual movement, the Scottish Reformation had been
entirely in the hands of the preachers, and it followed as a
matter of course, that the system of Church government which
was adopted by the nation was that which assigned the
principal part to those who were the chief authors of the
change. It is true that, in theory, a considerable influence
was assigned to the laity in the Presbyterian system ; but it
was to the laity regarded as members of a congregation, not as
members of a State. In the eye of the Presbyterian clergy,
the king and the beggar were of equal importance, and ought
to be possessed of only equal influence, as soon as they
entered the church doors. Noble as this idea was, it may
safely be said that this organised ecclesiastical democracy could
not nourish upon English soil. England has been Papal,
Episcopal, and Liberal; she has shouted by turns for the
authority of Rome, for the Royal Supremacy, and for the
iits of Conscience. One thing she has steadily avoided:
she has never been, and it may be affirmed without fear of
contradiction that she never will be, Presbyterian.
The nation saw at once that the system cut at the root of
the cardinal principle of the English Reformation, the sub-
jet tion of the clergy to the lay courts. The Queen occupied
her position as trustee for the laity of England. She expressed
the feelings of the great body of her subjects when she refused
to assent to a change which would have brought an authority
into the realm which would soon have declared itself to be
independent of the laws, and which would have been sadly
subversive Ol individual freedom, and of the orderly gradation I
of society upon which tin- national constitution rested.
For it 1, not to he supposed that the Presbyterian clergy
in the sixteenth < eiitury claimed only those moderate po\.
which an' exercised with general satisfaction in
Scotland at the present day. 1 he Genevan ai
phne was a word of fear in the ears of bnglisn la)
Uberty- men. The system which led to its introduction
ild, in the opinion ol many besides Ba< on, he i no
prejudicial to the liberties of private men than to the so
24 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. i.
reignty of princes,' although it would be 'in first show very
popular.' '
As a religious belief for individual men, Calvinism was
eminently favourable to the progress of liberty. But the
Reasons Calvinistic clergy, in their creditable zeal for the ame-
t5fy hisUS* lioration of the moral condition of mankind, shared
opinion. t0 the full with the national statesmen their ignorance
of the limits beyond which force cannot be profitably employed
for the correction of evil. Their very sincerity made it more
injurious to the true cause of virtue to intrust them with the
power of putting into force measures for the repression of vice
than it was to leave similar powers in the hands of the states-
men of the day. The thousand feelings by which restraints
were laid upon men of the latter class, their prejudices, their
weaknesses, and occasionally even their profligacy itself, com-
bined with their practical sagacity in diminishing the extent
to which they were willing to punish actions which should
never have been punished at all. With the Calvinistic clergy
these feelings were totally inoperative. Penetrated with the
hatred of vice, and filled with the love of all that was pure
and holy, they saw no better way of combating evils which
they justly dreaded than by directing against them the whole
force of society, in the vain hope of exterminating them by a
succession of well-directed blows. Of the distinction between
immorality and crime they knew nothing. If they had been
true to their own principles they would have remembered that,
whenever in cases of immorality they failed to purify by ad-
monition and exhortation the corruption of the heart, they had
nothing more to do. If it was contrary to spiritual religion
to attract the mind by outward forms, it was far more contrary
to it to force the mind by external penalties. By an intelligible
inconsistency, they allowed this argument to .drop out of sight.
They did not, indeed, themselves claim to inflict these punish-
ments ; in theory they had drawn the line too distinctly between
the spheres of the ecclesiastical and the secular jurisdiction to
admit of that. They contented themselves with pronouncing
1 Writing in Walsingham's name, Bacon's Letters and Life, i. ioo.
1558-1603 PRESBYTERIAXS AXD THE STATE. 25
excommunication against offenders. But in their hands ex-
communication was not merely the merciful prohibition of
the partaking of a Christian sacrament ; it carried with it the
exposure of the guilty person to an intolerable isolation amongst
his fellows, and it finally necessitated a public and degrading
ceremonial before he could again be received into favour.
They went further still. The penalties which they shrunk
from inflicting themselves, should be, in their opinion, carried
Assistance into execution by the civil power. Once more
offenders were to be delivered to the secular arm.
magistrate
ted to The Scottish second Book of Discipline distinctly
maintain . . ,
discipline, enumerates among the functions of the civil magis-
trate the duty of asserting and maintaining ' the discipline of
the kirk,' and ' of punishing them civilly that will not obey the
censure of the same,' though it takes care to add, that this is to
be dune ' without confounding always the one jurisdiction with
the other.'1 The same opinion was expressed by Cartwright,
the leader of the English Presbyterians, when he urged that
'the civil magistrate ' would do well to provide 'some sharp
punishment for those that contemn the censure and discipline
of the Church.' a
A reservation was expressed of the rights of the civil autho-
rities. But it is plain that Cartwright and his friends regarded
it as the duty of the authorities to inflict punishment on those
who resisted the decrees of the Church, without assigning to
them any right of revising those decrees. It was also possible,
that when the civil powers refused to put their decisions in
execution, the ministers might think themselves justified in
stirring up a dcmo< rati< resistance against a system of govern-
ment which re eived the approval of the wiser and more
pnu ti< al portion of the laity.
In taking her stand, as she did, against the abolition <>f
Episcopacy, Elizabeth was on the whole acting on behalf of the
liberty of her subjects. The Bimple expedient of allowing the
Presbyterians to introduce their system wherever they could
find congregations who would voluntarily submit to the di • 1
1 Chap. x. J Second Admonition to ParUanunt, |>. ,\<).
26 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. ch. I.
pline, on condition of their renunciation of all the emoluments
and privileges of their former position, would have been as
repulsive to the ministers themselves, as it certainly was to the
Queen. They asked for no position which was to be held on
sufferance ; their claim was, that their system was directly
commanded by the Word of God, and that, without grievous
sin, not a moment could be lost in delivering the whole Church
of England into their hands.
At all costs, if England was not to be thrown into confusion
from one end to the other, some measures must be taken by
English which such consequences might be averted, and the
Episcopacy. oniy contrivance that presented itself to the mind of
the Queen was the maintenance of the Episcopal Constitution.
Episcopacy was indeed looked upon in a very different light
from that in which it had been regarded in the days of Eecket,
and from that in which it was afterwards regarded in the days of
Laud. To all outward appearance, the position of the Bishops
in the Church of England was the same as that which they
occupied in the following century. The same forms were
observed in their consecration : the functions which they were
called on to fulfil were identical with those which devolved
upon their successors. But whereas in the seventeenth century
they were looked upon as the heads of an ecclesiastical system
in alliance with the King, in the sixteenth century they were
mainly regarded as forming the principal part of the machinery
by which the clergy were kept in subordination to the State.
The powers vested in the Crown by the Acts of the first
Parliament of Elizabeth were sufficient to keep the Church
down with a strong hand ; but it was thought desirable, if
possible, to keep the clergy in order by means of members of
their own body. It is no wonder that the Bishops, who were
regarded by statesmen as guarantees of peace and order, were
looked upon by Presbyterians as traitors to the cause of Christ
and of the Chun h. All this obloquy they were ready to
endure in order to save the nation from falling away once
more to the Pope. Many of them were probably careless
whether the Churrh was to be governed by bishops or by pres-
byters ; almost all of them were ready to agree with those who
1558-1603 THE ELIZABETHAN CHURCH. 27
urged the modification of the ceremonies. But they saw in
the state of public feeling enough to make them distrust extreme
measures, and, at the risk of being considered faithless to the
cause which they had most at heart, they offered their services
to the Queen.
The cardinal principle of the English Reformation from a
political point of view, is the doctrine of the Royal Supremacy.
The Royal If we regard the Sovereign as the representative of
"*• the State, the declaration that he is supreme over
all persons and all causes, ecclesiastical as well as civil, may
be justly spoken of as one of the corner-stones of the liberties
of England. It meant, that there should be no escape from
submission to the law of the land, and that justice alone, and
not privilege, was to rule the relations which existed between
the clergy and the people. It. was only by a slow process, how-
ever, that the nation could learn what justice really was, and
it was not at a moment when the Queen was bent upon her
great task of smoothing away differences amongst supporters
of the national cause, that she would be likely to look with
favour upon those whose principles threatened to rend the
ntry asunder, and perhaps to embark it upon such a civil
war as was at that time desolating France. We may sympathise
with Elizabeth, provided that we sympathise also with those
who defied her by raising the standard of the rights of con-
rue, and who refused to allow their religious convictions to
be moulded by considerations of political expediency.
It was inevitable that strife, and not peace, should be the
ultimate result of what Elizabeth had done. When Cartwright,
at that time Professor Of Divinity in the University of
Cambridge, stood forth to defend the Presbyterian
right government, he was met by Whitgift with the argu-
it that there was no reason to imagine that the forms of
Chut' h government were prescribed in the Scriptures. Christ,
he said, having left that government uncertain, it might vary
>rding to the requirements of the time I le then pro< e< ded
to argue that the existing i onstitution of the ( !hun h of 3 England
was most suitable to the country in the reign of Elizabeth.
It might be supposed that a principle such as that announced
38 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. ch. I.
by Whitgift would have inspired the men who held it with
conciliatory sentiments. This, unfortunately, was not the case.
AVhitgift and those who thought with him seemed to regard
their opponents as enemies to be crushed, rather than as
friends whose misdirected energies were to be turned into some
beneficial channel. Even the good and gentle Grindal had no
other remedy for Presbyterianism than to send half a dozen of
its most attached disciples to the common gaol at Cambridge,
and another half-dozen to the same destination at Oxford.
But if Grindal forgot himself for a moment, he was soon
able to vindicate his claim to respect as the occupant of the
Grindal, highest seat in the English Church. In one of the
ofrcantehr°P gravest crises through which that Church ever passed
bury. he stood forth as her champion, under circumstances
of peculiar difficulty and danger. It was plain that the energies
of the Government could not long continue to be occupied
with merely repressive means, without serious detriment to the
Church, the interest of which those measures were intended to
protect. It was all very well to enact rules for the regulation
of questions in dispute ; but unless the conforming clergy could
put forth some of the energy and ability which were to be
found on the opposite side, the Bishops and their regulations
would, sooner or later, disappear together. The Bishops them-
selves were not in fault. They had long grieved over the
condition of the clergy. In most parishes, the very
Low con- °'.,11 ' _ '
dition of men who had sung mass in the days of Mary now
remained to read the service from the Book of Com-
mon Prayer. The livings were generally so small that they
offered no inducement to anyone to accept them who was
above a very humble station in life. It was well if the incum-
bents could blunder through the prescribed forms, and could
occasionally read a homily.
The consequence of this state of things was, that whilst
churches where sermons were preached were crowded, those
where they were not were deserted. ' The only hope of a better
state of things lay in the prospect of obtaining the services of
1 Hooker, Eccl, Pol., v. xxii. 16,
1558-1603 THE PURITAN CLERGY. 29
the young men of ability and zeal who were growing up to
manhood in the Universities. But such men were generally
found among the Puritans, as the Nonconformists and the
Presbyterians began to be alike called in derision. Unless
some means were employed to attract such men to the existing
order, the cause which Elizabeth had done so much to sustain
was inevitably lost.
About the time that the Presbyterian controversy was at its
height, an attempt was made at Northampton to introduce a
D more vigorous life into the Church. The incum-
Froceedings
bent of the parish, in agreement with the mayor
of the town, organised an association for religious
purposes. Many of their regulations were extremely valuable,
but they allowed themselves to inquire too closely into the
private conduct of the parishioners, and the mayor even lent
his authority to a house-to-house visitation, for the purpose of
censuring those who had absented themselves from the com-
munion. Together with these proceedings, which may well
have been regarded as inquisitorial, sprang up certain meetings,
which were termed Prophesyings. These exercises, which, in
The 1 'ine respects resembled the clerical meetings of the
""s*" present day, were held for the purpose of discussing
theological and religious subjects, and were regarded as a
means by which unpractised speakers might be trained for the
delivery of sermons. Care was to be taken that the meeting
did not degenerate into a debating society.
Prophesyings spread like wildfire over the kingdom.
They were too well fitted to meet the wants of the time not to
( become rapidly popular. Abuses crept in, as they
always will in such movements; but, on the whole,
rally the effect was for good nun who had before been
unable to preach, acquired a facility of expression.
'I he lukewarm were Stirred up, and the backward
ouraged, by intercourse with their more active brethren.
Ten Bishops, with the Archbishop of Canterbury, the venerable
Grindal himself at their head, encouraged these proceedings,
which, as they fondly hoped, would restore life and energy to 1
3o THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. I.
Church which was rapidly stiffening into a mere piece of state
machinery.
The Archbishop drew up rules by which the abuses
which had occurred might be obviated for the future. The
„ . , , meetings were to be held only under the direction of
draws up the Bishop of the diocese, by whom the moderator
prc^cn't was to be appointed. The Bishop was to select the
subject for discussion, and without his permission no
one was to be allowed to speak. This permission was never,
on any account, to be accorded to any layman, or to any
deprived or suspended minister. Any person attacking the
institutions of the Church was to be reported to the Bishop,
and forbidden to take part in the exercises on any future
occasion.
Under such regulations these meetings deserved to prosper.
They were undoubtedly, as Bacon long afterwards said, when he
urged their resumption, ' the best way to frame and train up
preachers to handle the Word of God as it ought to be
handled."
Unfortunately for herself and for England, the Queen
looked upon these proceedings from a totally opposite point of
. , . view. She had sagacity enough to leave unnoticed
.». these opinions which differed from her own, provided they
mietiiiKs . .... ,
with sua- would be content to remain in obscurity, and were
not paraded before the eye of the public ; but for the
clash of free speech and free action she entertained feelings of
the deepest antipathy. Even preaching itself she regarded with
ir- r rHsiike dislike. Very carefully chosen persons from amongst
chmg. t]ie clergy, on rare occasions, might be allowed to
indulge a select audience with the luxury of a sermon ; but, in
ordinary circumstances, it would be quite enough if one of the
Homilies, published by authority, were read in the hearing of
the congregation. There would be no fear of any heretical
notions entering into the minds of men who, from one year's
end to another, never listened to anything but those faultless
1 Certain Considerations for the better Establishmoit of the Church of
England.
1558-1603 PARLIAMENTARY PURITANISM. 31
compositions. If two preachers were to be found in a county,
it was enough and to spare.
With such opinions on the subject of preaching, she at once
took fright when she heard what was going on in different
parts of the kingdom. She determined to put a stop
fright, to the Prophesyings. Like an anxious mother, who
the suppres- is desirous that her child should learn to walk, but
Prophet is afraid to allow it to put its foot to the ground,
Ings' she conjured up before her imagination the over-
throw of authority which would ensue if these proceedings were
allowed. She issued a letter to the Bishops, commanding them
to suppress the Prophesyings.
In spite of the storm which was evidently rising, the brave
old Archbishop took his stand manfully in opposition to the
Grindai Queen. Firmly, but respectfully, he laid before her,
Prot' in its true colours, a picture of the mischief she was
doing. He begged her to think again before she committed
an act which would be the certain ruin of the Church. As
for himself, he would never give his consent to that which he
believed to be injurious to the progress of the Gospel. If the
Queen chose to deprive him of his archbishopric, he would
cheerfully submit, but he would never take part in sending out
any injunction for the suppression of the Prophesyings.
Grindal's remonstrances were unavailing. He himself was
suspended from his functions, and died in deep disgrace. The
udisnu- Prophesyings were put down, and all hope of bring-
,,;cJ- ing the waters of that free Protestantism which was
rapidly becoming the belief of so many thoughtful Englishmen,
t<> flow within the channels of Episcopacy was, for the present,
at an end.
In 1 57 1, shortly before the commencement of the I'm
phesyingS, the House of Commons stepped into the arena.
Twelve years had done much to < hange the feelings
The House ,,,• ,,, 111 1 « 1
of Common* of the laity. Old men had dropped into the grave,
Ihc', ' and it was to the aged' pecially that Protestantism
troveny. j^j |)Ccn f()lin(j distasteful. The country gentle-
men, of whom the House was almost entirely composed, if they
adopted Protestant opinions at all, could hardly find any living
32 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. I.
belief in England other than the Calvinism which was accepted by
the al (lest and most active amongst the clergy. The Queen's re-
gulations were, after all, a mere lifeless body, into which the spirit
of religious faith had yet to be breathed. The struggle against
Rome, too, was daily assuming the proportions of a national
conflict. Men, who in ordinary times would have taken little
interest in the dislike of some of the clergy to use certain forms,
were ready to show them favour when they were declaiming
against the adoption of the rags of an anti-national Church.
Nor was the growing feeling of dissatisfaction with the re-
straint put upon personal liberty by the Government, adverse
to the claims of the ministers as long as they were on the per-
secuted side ; although the same feeling would have undoubt-
edly manifested itself on the side of the Crown, if Cartwright
had ever succeeded in putting the Presbyterian system in
operation.
Hills were accordingly brought in for amending the Prayer
Book, and for retrenching in some degree the administrative
] lowers of the Archbishop of Canterbury. But the most re-
markable monument of the temper of the House was an Act,1
which was often appealed to in later times, in which confirma-
mation was given to the Thirty-nine Articles. It was enacted
that all ministers should be compelled to subscribe to those
articles only which concerned the Christian faith and the
doctrine of the Sacraments. By the insertion of the word ' only,'
the House of Commons meant it to be understood that no
signature was to be required to the Articles which related to
its of discipline and Church government.
Thus a breach was opened between the two greatest powers
known to the constitution, never to be again closed till the
Rrcarh monarchy had itself disappeared for a time in the
en the waters of the conflict. The English Reformation
was, as lias been said, the work of the laity of
e^desiastidi England, headed by the Sovereign. The House of
Commons now threatened to go one way, while the
Queen was determined to go another. No doubt, the pro-
1 13 Eliz. cap. 12.
1558-1605 ARCHBISHOP WH1TGIFT. 33
posals of the Lower House could not always have been
accepted without important modifications. There were por-
tions of society which found a truer representation in the
Queen than in the House of Commons. During the greater
part of Elizabeth's reign, the House of Commons was by no
means the representative body which it afterwards became.
Every member was compelled to take the oath of supremacy,
and a large number of the gentry refused to sit at Westminster
on such terms. If the liberty which the Commons required
for the clergy had been granted, it would have been necessary
to devise new guarantees, in order that the incumbent of a
parish should not abuse his position by performing the duties
of his office in such a manner as to offend his parishioners. In
proportion as the checks imposed by the Government were
diminished, it would have been necessary to devise fresh
checks, to proceed from the congregation, whilst the Govern-
ment retained in its hands that general supervision which
would effectually hinder the oppression of individuals by a
minister supported by a majority of his parishioners.
With a little moderation on both sides, such a scheme
might possibly have been resolved upon. But it was not so to
,. ., be. Elizabeth has a thousand titles to our gratitude,
Kvil conse- . °
quences of but it should never be forgotten that she left, as
determina- a legacy to her successor, an ecclesiastical system
which, unless its downward course were arrested by
consummate wisdom, threatened to divide the nation into two
hostile camps, and to leave England, even after necessity had
compelled the rivals to accept conditions of peace, a prey to
theological rancour and sectarian hatred.
Matters could not long remain as they were ; unless the
Queen was prepared to make concessions, she must, of neces-
She appoint* sity, have recourse to sterner measures. On the
'!'/ • death of Grindal, in 1583, she looked about for a
"'"-'• ■''■ successor who would unflinchingly < any hei views
into execution. Such a man she found in John Whitgift, the
old opponent of Cartwright Honest and well-intentioned, but
narrow-minded to an almost incredible degree, the one thouj hi
which filled his mind was the hope of bringing the ministei ol
VOL. I. D
34 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. ch. i.
the Church of England at least to an outward uniformity. He
was unable to comprehend the scruples felt by sincere and pious
men. A stop was to he put to the irregularities which prevailed,
not because they were inconsistent with sound doctrine, or
with the practical usefulness of the Church, hut because they
were disorderly. He aimed at making the Church of England
a rival to the Church of Rome, distinct in her faith, but
equalling her in obedience to authority and in uniformity of
worship.
In order to carry these views into execution, the machinery
of the Court of High Commission was called into existence.
Format! . Several temporary commissions had, at various
times, been appointed by virtue of the Act of Su-
premacy, but these powers were all limited in com-
parison with those assigned to the permanent tribunal which
was now to be erected. The Parliament which had, four and
nty years before, passed the Act under which the Court
claimed to sit, would have shrunk back with horror if it had
foreseen the use which was to be made of the powers entrusted
by them to the Queen for a very different purpose ; and, since
the accession of Elizabeth, opinion had undergone considerable
changes, in a direction adverse to the principles which were
upheld by the new Archbishop.
The Commission consisted of forty-four persons, of whom
twelve were to be Bishops. Its powers were enormous, and
united both those forms of oppression which were repulsive to
all moder.i' Englishmen. It managed to combine the arbi-
trary tendencies by which the lay courts were at that time
infer ted with the inquisitorial character of an ecclesiastical
tribunal. The new Court succeeded in loading itself with the
i of the dislike which was felt against oppression in
either form. In two points alone it was distinguished from the
Inquisition of Southern Europe It was incompetent to inflict
punishment of death, and it was not permitted to extract
confessions by means of physical torture.
Still, as the case stood, it was bad enough. The Court
was empowered to inquire into all offences against the Acts
of Parliament, by which the existing ecclesiastical system had
155S-1603 THE HIGH COMMISSION. 35
been established ; to punish persons absenting themselves
from church ; to reform all errors, heresies, and schisms which
Powers of might lawfully be reformed according to the laws of
the Court. t]ie rea]m • t0 deprive all beneficed clergy who held
opinions contrary to the doctrinal articles, and to punish all
incests, adulteries, fornications, outrages, misbehaviours, and
disorders in marriage, and all grievous offences punishable by
the ecclesiastical laws.
The means which were at the disposal of the Commission,
for the purpose of arriving at the facts of a case, were even
more contrary to the spirit of English law than the
Means of . . ...
obtaining extent of its powers. It was, in theory, a principle
of our law that no man was bound to accuse him-
self, it being the business of the Court to prove him guilty if
it could ; and, although in practice this great principle was
really disregarded, especially in cases where the interests of the
country or of the Government were at stake, the remembrance
of it was certain to revive as soon as it was disregarded by an
unpopular tribunal. The Commission, drawing its maxims
from the civil and canon law, conducted its proceedings on a
totally opposite principle. Its object was to bring to punish
ment those who were guilty of disobedience to the laws, either
in reality, or according to the opinion of the Court. In the
same spirit as that by which the ordinary judges were actuated
in political < as*-s, the framers of the regulations of the new
Couit thought more of bringing the guilty to punishment than
of saving the innocent. But whilst the judges were forced to
content themselves with straining existing forms against un
popular delinquents, the Commission, as a new tribunal,
authorised to settle new forms, in order to bring within its
n who enjoyed the sympathies of their country-
men.
It would have been almost impossible 1 istituted
an English court without assigning to it the power of arriving
at the truth by the ordinal)- mode, 'the oaths of tweh
and lawful men.' But, ho having been thu to this
time-honoured institution, the Commission pi I 1 direct
that recourse might be had ;o witne n i alone, and even I
l> 2
36 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. i.
conviction might be obtained by ' all other ways and means '
which could be devised.
The meaning of this vague clause was soon evident to all.
The Court began to make use of a method of extracting infor-
mation from unwilling witnesses, which was known as the ex-
officio oath. It was an oath tendered to an accused person,
that he would give true answers to such questions as might
be put to him. He was forced not only to accuse himself,
but he was liable to bring into trouble his friends, concerning
whom the Court was as yet possessed of no certain information.
The Archbishop, having thus arranged the constitution of
his Court, drew up twenty-four interrogatories of the most
Articles inquisitorial description, which he intended to present
Presented to a^ suspected persons among the clergy. They
to all were not confined to inquiries into the public pro-
clergymen, ceedings of the accused, but reached even to his
private conversation. If the unhappy man refused to take the
oath, he was at once to be deprived of his benefice, and com-
mitted to prison for contempt of the Court.
The unfortunate clergy appealed to the Privy Council.
Whitgift was unable to find a single statesman who approved of
Thedcrjo- his proceedings. Burghley, with all the indignation
i'i'0. of which his calm and equable temperament was
Council. capable, remonstrated against the tyranny of which
the Archbishop was guilty. He told him that his own wishes
were in favour of maintaining the peace of the Church, but
that these proceedings savoured too much of the Romish
Inquisition, and were 'rather a device to seek for offenders
than to reform any.' But Burghley's remonstrances were in
vain. Whitgift was not the man to give way when he had
on< ded upon his course, and unhappily he received the
thorough and steady support <<f Elizabeth. When even these
harsh measures failed to effect their object, recourse was had
to the ordinary tribunals, and men were actually sent to execu-
tion for writing libels against the Bishops, on the plea that any
attack upon the Bishops was an instigation to sedition against
the Queen.
It is remarkable that, at the very time when these atrocities
1 5 58-1603 THE SEPARATISTS. 37
wore at their worst, the House of Commons, which had never
let slip an opportunity of protesting against the ec-
preiate r" clesiastical measures of the Queen, began to grow
cool in its defence of the Puritans. This may be
attributed in part to the great popularity which Elizabeth
enjoyed in consequence of the defeat of the Armada, but still
more to the licence which the authors of a series of Puritan
libels allowed themselves.
Moderate men who were startled by these excesses, were
still more disgusted by the spread of what were at that time
known as Brownist opinions, from the name of Robert
Brownist Brown, from whom they had first proceeded. His
principles were very much those which were after-
wards held by the Independents. His followers considered
that every Christian congregation was in itself a complete
church, and they denied that either the civil government, or
any assembly of clergy, possessed the right of controlling it in
its liberty of action. No other body of men had so clear an
idea of the spiritual nature of religion, and of the evils which
resulted from the dependence of the Church upon the State.
Far from being content, like the old Puritans, with demanding
either a reformation of the Church, or a relaxation of its laws,
the Brownists, or Separatists as they called themselves, were
ready to abandon the Church to its fate, and to establish
themselves in complete independence of all constituted au-
thorities. If they had stopped here, they would have been
unpopular enough. Hut some of them, at least, goaded by
the persecution to which they were exposed, went to far
ter Lengths than this. Holding that ministers ought to
be supported by the voluntary contributions of the people, they
de< lared that the whole national Church was anti-Christian,
and to remain in its communion for an instant was to be guilty
of a sin of no common magnitude. From this some of them
proceeded to still more offensive declarations. Whilst dis-
claiming all wish to take the law into their own hands, they
called upon the Queen to ' forbid and exterminate all other
religions, worship, and ministers within her dominions.' ' She
1 H. Barrow's Platform.
38 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. CH. i.
ought further, as they said, to seize all the property of the
Church, from the wide domain of the Bishop down to the
glebe land of the incumbent of a country parish.
Terrified by these opinions, the Presbyterian Cartwright
wrote in denunciation of their wickedness. Parliament allowed
Reaction in itself, in 1593, f°r tne first time since the accession
hurch of Elizabeth, to pass a statute against Protestants of
system. any kind.
The latter years of Elizabeth were quieter than the storms
which followed upon the appointment of the High Commission
had indicated. Perhaps the sweep which had been made
from amongst the clergy had left a smaller number of persons
upon whom the Court could exercise its authority ; perhaps,
also, the dissatisfied, certain that there was no hope of any
change of system as long as Elizabeth lived, reserved them-
selves for the reign of her successor. Such causes, however,
whatever their effect may have been, were not in themselves of
sufficient importance to account for the undoubted reaction
against Puritanism which marked the end of the sixteenth
century.
As, one by one, the men who had sustained the Queen at her
accession dropped into the grave, a generation arose which,
Causes of excepting in books of controversy, knew nothing of
action. any rciigion which differed from that of the Church
Of England. The ceremonies and vestments which, in the
time of their fathers, had been exposed to such bitter attacks,
were to them hallowed as having been entwined with their
earliest associations. It required a strong effort of the imagina-
tion to connect them with the forms of a departed system
which they had never witnessed with their eyes ; but they
remembered that those ceremonies had been used, and those
vestments had been worn, by the clergy who had led their
prayers during those anxious days when the Armada, yet un-
quered, was hovering round the coast, and who had, in
their name, and in the name of all true Englishmen, offered the
thanksgiving which ascended to heaven after the great victory
had been won. By many of them these forms were received
with pleasure for their own sake. In every age there will be a
1558-1603 HOOKER. 39
large class of minds to whom Puritanism is distasteful, not
merely because of the restraint which it puts upon the conduct,
but because it refuses to take account of a large part of human
nature. Directing all its energies against the materialism which
followed the breaking up of the medieval system, it forgot to
give due weight to the influences which affect the spiritual
nature of man through his bodily senses. Those, therefore,
to whom comely forms and decent order were attractive,
gathered round the institutions which had been established in
the Church under the auspices of Elizabeth. In the place of
her first Bishops, who were content to admit these institutions
as a matter of necessity, a body of prelates grew up, who were
ready to defend them for their own sake, and who believed
that, at least in their main features, they were framed in ac-
cordance with the will of God. Amongst the laity, too, these
opinions met with considerable support, especially as the
Protestant ranks had been recruited by a new generation
of converts, which had in its childhood been trained in the old
creed, and thus had never come under the influence of Cal-
vinism. They found expression in the great work of Hooker,
from which, in turn, they received no small encouragement.
But whilst the gradual rise of these sentiments reduced
the Presbyterians to despair, it soon became plain that the
Episcopal party was not of one mind with respect to
the course which should be pursued towards the
Polity.' Nonconformists. Hooker, indeed, had maintained
that the disputed points being matters which were not ordained
by any immutable Divine ordinance, were subject to change
from time to time, according to the circumstances of the
Chun h. For the time being, these questions had been settled
by the law of the Church of England, t<> which the Queen, as
the head and representative of the nation, had given her
assent. With' enl he was perfectly content, and he
advi ed his opponents to submit to the law which had been
thus laid down. Upon looking closely, however, into Hool
Li work, it becomes evident that hi, < on* lusions are ba ed
up'.n two distinct arguments, which, although they v
blended together in his own mind at some sacrifice of logical
40 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. ch. i
precision, were not likely in future to find favour at the same
time with any one class of reasoners. When he argues from
Scripture, and from the practice of the early Church, the as yet
undeveloped features of Bancroft and Laud are plainly to be
discerned. When he proclaims the supremacy of law, and
weighs the pretensions of the Puritans in the scales of reason,
he shows a mind the thoughts of which are cast in the same
mould with those of that great school of thinkers of whom
Ba< on is the acknowledged head. Hooker's greatness indeed,
like the greatness of all those by whom England was ennobled
in the Elizabethan age, consisted rather in the entireness of his
nature than in the thoroughness with which his particular
investigations were carried out. He sees instinctively the
unity of truth, and cannot fail to represent it as a living whole.
It is this which has made him, far more than others who were
his superiors in consistency of thought, to be regarded as the
representative man of the Church of England.
It soon appeared that the desire to hold a middle course
between the rival ecclesiastical parties was not confined to a
inp few advanced thinkers. There was a large and in-
^.ll creasing number of the laity who regarded the
doa problem in Hooker's spirit, though they were dis-
satisfied with his solution of it. Even men who themselves
admired the forms of worship prescribed by the Church, and
who felt all Hooker's dislike of Presbyterianism, nevertheless,
without any very deep reasoning, came to a precisely opposite
lusion. They were not yet the [-artisans that their
dren cam.- to be, and they were more anxious to preserve
the unity of the English Church than the forms which were
rapidly making that unity impossible. If these ceremonies
were only imposed by the law of the land for the sake of
uniformity, without its being pretended that they were other-
than of merely human origin, ought not that law to be
relaxed ? Everywhere there was a cry for preachers. Whilst
bishops and ministers were wrangling about points of mere
il, thousands of their fellow-countrymen were living like
heathens. It was to be regretted that so many of those who
were capable of preaching should be so scrupulous about
T 558-1603 HOOKER, SPENSER, AND CERVANTES. 41
matters of little consequence ; but was it necessary, on account
of these scruples, to disturb the peace of the Church by the
expulsion of those who felt them ? Was it well that faithful
and pious men who preached the same doctrine as that which
was held by their conforming brethren, and whose lives gave
at least as good an example as that of any bishop in England,
should be cut short in their career of usefulness merely in or-
der that the clergyman who officiated in one parish might not
scandalise the sticklers for uniformity by wearing a surplice, whilst
the clergyman who officiated in the next parish wore a gown ?
Hooker's great work had more than a theological significance.
It was the sign of the reunion of Protestantism with the new
Protestant- learning of the Renaissance. In the beginning of
ism and the Elizabeth's reign the current of thought had not
Kenais- ° °
sance. filled the forms of the Elizabethan Church. In
the end of the reign it was flowing in steadily, basing itself on
large enquiry, and on distrust of dogmatic assertion. Religion
began to partake of the many-sidedness of the world around it,
and Hooker was a worthy peer of Spenser and of Shakespeare.
Those last fifteen years of Elizabeth, in truth, were years in
which many opposing elements were being fused together into
harmonious co-operation. Those who wish to understand the
position which England occupied during these years of our
history would do well to place side by side the three great
works of the imagination in which three men of genius embalmed
the chivalric legends of the Middle Ages.
The work of the Italian Ariosto stands distinguished for the
distance at which it lies from all contemporary life. The poet
of the 'Orlando 1'urioso ' wanders in an ideal realm
'Orlando of courtesy and valour of which the world around
him knew nothing. If his Italian readers ever
thought of Italy, it could only be to sigh over the downfall of so
many hopes.
Ear different is the work of Cervantes. To him the legends
'Don which seemed so bright in the eyes of the Italian
Quixote.' hac] become ridiculous. He could see nothing but
the absurdity of them. Regarded from this point of view,
'Don Quixote' becomes the saddest book which was ever written.
42 THE TUDOR MONARCHY. ch. I.
It is the child mocking at his father's follies, whilst he closes
his eyes to his nobleness and his chivalry.
Shortly before the appearance of ' Don Quixote' another
book saw the light amongst a very different people. To
Spenser, nursed as he had been amongst the glories
Queen* the of the reign of Elizabeth, all that was noble in the
. ctium old tales of chivalry had become a living reality.
The ideal representations of the knights and damsels
who pass before our view in his immortal poem, bring into
our memory, without an effort, the champions who defended
the throne of the virgin Queen. In England no great chasm
divided th<" present from the past. Englishmen were not
prepared to find matter for jesting in the tales which had
delighted their fathers, and they looked upon their history as
an inheritance into which they themselves had entered.
Great achievements do not make easy the task of the men
who succeed to those by whom they have been accomplished.
The work of the Tudors had been to complete the
■ikies . . ....
edifice of national independence by nationalising
the Church. In the course of the arduous struggle
they had claimed and had obtained powers greater
than those possessed by any former English kings. The very
success which they had attained rendered those powers
unn y. The institutions established by them had out-
lived their purpose. The strong vindication of the rights of
the State which had been necessary when religious differences
threatened civil war, had ceased to be necessary when peace
was assured. The prerogative of the Crown would need to
be curtailed when it was applied to less important objects
than the maintenance of national unity. Yet such changes,
irable in themselves, were not easy to accomplish. The
mental habit by which institutions are supported does not
readily pass away. As Elizabeth grew old, it w?.s generally felt
that great changes were impending.
herself knew that it must be so. The very success of
her career must have made it appear to have been almost a
failure. Men were everywhere asking for greater relaxation
than she had been willing to give to them.
t558-i6o3 EXD OF THE TUDOR MONARCHY, 43
Whatever was to come of it, the next age must take care of
itself. Of one thing she felt sure, that no puppet of Spain or of
Elizabeth's tne Jesuits would ever wear the crown of England.
death. u i\jy seat hath been the seat of kings, and I will have
no rascal to succeed me," she said, as she lay dying. When she
was pressed to explain her meaning, she declared that her wish
was that a king should follow her. " And who should that be,"
she added, " but our cousin of Scotland? " Her last act was to
hold her hands over her head in the form of a crown, with the
intention, as it was thought, of conveying to the bystanders the
impression that she would be followed by one who was already
a King.1 So, early on the morning of March 24, 1603, the great
Queen passed away from amongst a people whom she had
loved so well, and over whom, according to the measure of
human wisdom, she had ruled so wisely.
Her forebodings were realised. Evil times were at hand.
They followed her death, as they had followed the death of
her father.
When such sovereigns as the two great Tudors die, it
seems as if the saying which the poet has put into the mouth
of the crafty Antony were the rule which prevails in the
world —
The evil that men do lives after them ;
The good is oft interred with their bones.
Errors and follies soon produce their accustomed fruits. But
when the error has been but the accompaniment of great and
., the fruit of those deeds is not long in making its
way into the world. Henry VIII. must be judged by the great
men who supported his daughter's throne, and who defended
the land whi< li lie set free when 'he broke the bonds of Rome.'
Elizabeth must be judged by the Pyms and Cromwells, who,
little as she would have approved of their actions, yet owed
their strength to the vigour with which she headed the re-
sistance ot England against Spanish aggressioa she had
cleared the way for liberty, though she understood it not.
1 The fullest and apparently the most authentic account is that pub-
lished in Disraeli's Curiosities of Literature (1849), hi. 364.
44
CHAPTER II.
CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND.
When Elizabeth died, one great question was already pressing
for solution — the question of the relationship between the
1603. national Church and the dissidents on either hand
^"es — which was destined to agitate the minds of men
toleration. as iong as Stuart kings reigned in England. It was
a question to which the successor of Elizabeth was not alto-
gether a stranger, though his mode of dealing with it in Scotland
e little reason to hope that he would deal successfully with
it in England.
In many respects the aspect of Scotland in the sixteenth
century was the reverse of that of England. The most remark-
able feature of Elizabethan England was the harmony which
resulted from the interdependence upon one another of the
1560-1572. various elements of which the national life was
composed. To the north of the Tweed, the same
and"' elements for the most part reappeared; but they
were seen standing out sharp and clear, in well-
defined contrast to one another. The clergy were more dis-
tinctly clerical, the boroughs more isolated and self-contained,
and, above all, the nobles retained the old turbulence of
feudalism whi< h had long ceased to be tolerated in any othei
country in Europe.
When the Reformation first passed over Scotland, there
was a momentary prospect of a change which might to some
nt obliterate the existing distinctions, and give rise to a
real national union. Noble and burgher, rich and poor, joined
1560-72 THE SCOTTISH REFORMATION. 45
with the preachers in effecting the overthrow of the medieval
Church ; and it was by no means the intention of Knox and
Knox's his fellow-labourers to erect a new hierarchy upon the
church*" ruins of the old. According to their theory, there was
government. t0 De no longer any distinction between the laity and
the clergy, excepting so far as the latter were set apart for the
performance of peculiar duties. Of the forty-two persons who
took their seats in the first General Assembly of the Church
of Scotland only six were ministers. Barons and earls were
admitted to its consultations without any election at all. So
far as the first Reformers had any distinct idea of the nature
of the Assembly which they had called into being, they in-
tended it to be a body in which the nation should be re-
presented by those who were its natural leaders, as well as
by those who had a closer connection with ecclesiastical affairs.
Such a scheme as this, however, was doomed to failure from
the first. Here and there might be found individuals amongst
Desertion of the high nobility who gave themselves heart and
Dyethe high soul t0 tne Church of the Reformation, but, for the
nobility. most part, the earls and lords were satisfied as soon
as they had gorged themselves with the plunder of the abbey
lands. They had no idea of meeting on terms of equality with
the humble ministers, and they cared little or nothing for the
progress of the Gospel. Nor was it indifference alone which
kept these powerful men aloof: they had an instinctive feeling
that the system to which they owed their high position was
doomed, and thai it was from the influeiM e which the preachers
were acquiring that immediate danger was to be apprehended
to their own position. A great Sc ottish nobleman, in fact, was a
very different personage from the man who was called by a simi-
lar title in England. He exercised little less than sovereign
authority over his own district. Possessed of the power of life
and death within its limits, his vassals looked up to him as
the only man to whom they were accountable lor their actions.
They were ready to follow him into the field at his bidding,
and they were seldom long allowed to remain at rest. There
was always some quarrel to be engaged in, some neighbouring
lord to be attacked, or some hereditary insult to be avenged
q6 CHURCH AXD STATE IN SCOTLAND. en. n.
With the physical force which was at the disposal of the
aristocracy, the ministers were for the time unable to cope.
But they had on their side that energy of life which
Strength of . J. , V . .. .
the mini*- is certain, sooner or later, to translate itself into
power. It was not merely that, with scarcely an ex-
ception, all the intellect of Scotland was to be found in their
ranks ; their true strength lay in the undeviating firmness with
which they bore witness for the law of God as the basis of all
human action, and the vigorous and self-denying activity with
which they called upon all who would listen to them to shake
off the bonds of impurity and vice. How was it possible that
there should long be agreement between the men whose whole
lives were stained with bloodshed and oppression, and the men
who were struggling, through good repute and evil repute, to
reduce to order the chaos in which they lived, and to make
their native country a land of godliness and peace?
The compromise to which the nobility came with the
ministers at Leith, in 1572, was for the aristocracy one of those
TheTukhan apparent victories which give a certain presage of
uuhops. future defeat. Sorely against their will, the clergy
were driven to consent to the institution of a Protestant
1 iscopate. The burghs and the lesser gentry were no match
the vassals of the great lords, and they were compelled to
give way. Hut it was not a concession which did any credit
to those to whom it had been made. They had not one single
thought to spare for the country, or for the Church of whose
interests they were thus summarily disposing. All they cared
about was the wealth which might be gained by the scheme
which they had adopted. The Bishops were to be duly con-
rated, not in order that they might take part in that govern-
ment of the clergy which is assigned to them in Episcopalian
churches, but in order that they might have some legal title
to hand over the greater part of their revenues to the nobles to
whom they owed their sees. From that moment Episcopacy
was a doomed institution in Scotland. It was impossible for
any man to submit to become a Bishop without losing every
remnant of the self-respect which he might originally have
possessed The moral strength which Presbyterianism gained
I5«i SCOTTISH PRESBYTERIANISM. 47
from this compromise was incalculable. It soon became the
earnest belief of all who were truthful and independent in the
nation, that the Presbyterian system was the one divinely
appointed mode of Church government, from which it was
^ . r sinful to deviate in the slightest decree. Whatever
Doctrine of . o o
the Divine credit must be triven to Andrew Melville for his share
right of . .... .... .
yte- in producing this conviction, it is certain that the dis-
reputable spectacle of the new Episcopacy was far
more effective than any arguments which he was able to use.
In 1 58 1 the Second Book of Discipline received the appro-
val of the General Assembly. By it the Church pronounced
I58l_ its unqualified acceptance of those Presbyterian in-
tone! stitutions which, with some slight modifications,
lira finally overcame all opposition, and have maintained
themselves to the present day. During the years which had
passed since the introduction of the Reformation, the Assembly
was becoming less national, and more distinctly ecclesiastical.
Its strength lay in the fact that it represented all that was best
and noblest in Scotland, and that its Church Courts gave a
political education to the lower and middle classes, which they
1 ould never find in the Scottish Parliament. Its weakness lay
in the inevitable tendency of such a body to push principles to
remes, and to erect a tyranny over men's consciences in
order to compel them to the observance of moral and ecclesias
tical laws. The (ensures of the Church fell heavily as well
upon the m;in who kepi away from church on the' Lord's Day,
as on the loose liver and the drunkard. TJndl C tin- eye of the
minister of the parish, the kirk-session gathered to inflict
penalties on offenders, and in the kirk-session no regard was
paid to worldly rank. The noblemen, who disdained to meet
pious cobblers and craftsmen cm an equal footing, naturally
kept aloof from such gatherings.
That the l' riai) assemblies should become political
institutions, was probably unavoidable. To them the Calvin-
,,.,! istically interpreted Bible was the Divine rule of
life. Kings and nobles were to In- honoured and
•jr tnc
mblies. obeyed, so far as they conformed to it, and 1 1
their lives to the carrying out its principles in practice.
48 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. II.
If they did not— and of their failure to do so the clergy were
to be the sole interpreters — it was the duty of the Church, as
in the Middle Ages it had been held to be the duty of the
Popes, to withstand them to the face Presbyterianism did not
ask merely to be let alone to pursue its spiritual course un-
hindered, it asked that the" authorities of the State should
become its instruments for the establishment upon earth of a
kingdom ;is like that of heaven as it was possible to attain to.
Of individual liberty, of the manifold luxuriance of human
nature, Presbyterianism knew nothing; but it did much to
encourage resistance to the arbitrary power of rulers. It set
its face like a flint against any assumption of Divine right,
except by its own assemblies. It called upon kings to conform
their actions to a definite law. If kings were to master it, it
could only be by an appeal to a law wider and more consonant
to the facts of nature than its own.
It was inevitable that the Scottish Church at the end of the
sixteenth century should entangle itself, not merely in questions
relating to the enforcement of the ecclesiastical law, but even
in strictly political questions. In those days every religious
question was also a political one, and the compact organisation
of the Scottish Church enabled it to throw no slight weight
into the scale. With a wild, defiant feudalism surging around,
and an enraged Catholic Europe ready to take advantage
of any breach in the defences of Protestantism, the Scottish
Church felt that every political movement involved a question
of life or death for the nation of which it was in some sort the
representative.
If, indeed, the ministers who guided the assemblies, and
through them the various congregations, could have had the
assurance that their Sovereign was a man whom they could
trust, much mischief might have been spared. James VI.,
Character of indeed had many qualities befitting a ruler in such
Ja- difficult times. Good-humoured and good-natured,
be was honestly desirous of increasing the prosperity of his
subjects. His mental powers were of no common order; his
memory was good, and his learning, especially on theological
points, was bv no means contemptible. He was intellectually
158 1 CHARACTER OF JAMES. 49
tolerant, anxious to be at peace with those whose opinions
differed from his own. He was above all things eager to be a
reconciler, to make peace where there had been war before,
and to draw those to live in harmony who had hitherto glared
at one another in mutual defiance. He was penetrated with a
strong sense of the evil of fanaticism.
These merits were marred by grave defects. He was too
self-confident to give himself the pains to unravel a difficult
problem, and had too weak a perception of the proportional value
of things to enable him to grasp the important points of a case
to the exclusion of those which were merely subsidiary. With
a thorough dislike of dogmatism in others, he was himself the
most dogmatic of men, and — most fatal of all defects in a ruler
— he was ready to conceive the worst of those who stood up
against him. He had none of that generosity of temper which
leads the natural leaders of the human race to rejoice when
they have found a worthy antagonist, nor had he, as Elizabeth
had, that intuitive perception of the popular feeling which
stood her in such stead during her long career. Warmly
affectionate to those with whom he was in daily intercourse, he
never attached himself to any man who was truly great. He
mistook flattery for devotion, and though his own life was pure,
he contrived to surround himself with those of whose habits
there was no good report It was easy for his favourites to
abuse his good nature, provided that they took care not to
wound his self-complacency. Whoever would put on an
appearance <<f i ice, and would avoid contradicting him
on the point <m which he happened tO have set his heart at the
moment, might had him anywhere.
Unhappily, v. Inn James grew up to manhood, he was in
the hands of unworthy favourites, who taughl him the lesson
P( t;onof that the clergy were his true enemies. These favoui
James. ites were known to be acting under the influence Ol
the French Court, and it was strongly suspe< t'd thai they v.. re
likely to favour the re-estab!ishment ol the Papal system by the
help of foreign armies. Under SUch circumstances, the stru
in which the clergy were engaged speedily assumed a new
form : it was no longer a question whether the property of the
VOL. i. i.
co CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. II.
Church should he simoniacally conveyed away to a few degraded
nominees of the nobility : it was a question whether, in the hour
of Scotland's danger, free words might be spoken to warn the
misguided King of the ruin which he was allowing his favourites
to prepare for himself and for his subjects.
James determined to make the ministers feel that force
was still on his side. He knew that the greater part of the
t_8 nobility would concur with pleasure in any measure
Thei which served to depress the clergy, and in 1584 he
1 Jio obtained from Parliament the Acts by which the
whole government of the Church was placed in the
hands of the Bishops.
For two years the struggle lasted between the King and the
( lergy, with various fortunes. As the end of that time James
could not help perceiving that his opponents were,
Tames more in some degree, in the right. In 1586 the King
themims-0 of Spain was making preparations for the invasion of
England : and if the throne of Elizabeth were over-
turned, Scotland could hardly hope to escape destruction.
lames had no wish to become a vassal of Spain and of the
Pope, and he entered into a league with England for mutual
gainst the enemy by whom both kingdoms were
threatened Such a change of policy naturally removed the
principal obstacles to a reconciliation between the King and
the clergy, and though it was impossible that any cordial sym-
pathy should spring up between them, that kind of agreement
existed which is frequently found between persons of a dis-
similar temperament who are united in the pursuit of a common
obje< L In spite of constant bickerings the King, step by step,
relaxed his pretensions, and at last, in 1592, gave his consent to
an A< t by whi< h Presbyterianism was established in its integrity.
It was unlikely that this unanimity would last long. The
quarrel, however, sprang up again sooner than might have been
expected. Early in 1593 a conspiracy was detected,
Defeat of the in which the Earls of Huntly, Errol, and Angus were
/by" implicated. Eike so many others of the nobility,
they had never accepted the Protestant doctrines,
and their great power in the north-eastern shires made them
1593 THE NORTHERN NOBLES. 51
almost unassailable. If they had been let alone they would
probably have remained contented with their position, caring as
little for the King of Spain as they did for the King of Scotland.
But the ministers were bent upon the total extirpation of Popery,
and the earls were led to place their hopes in a Spanish invasion.
Such an invasion would free them from the assaults of a religion
which was perhaps quite as unacceptable to them from its poli-
tical consequences as from the theological doctrines which it
propounded. James, when he discovered what was passing,
marched at once into the North, and drove the earls headlong
out of their domains.
With one voice the clergy cried out for the forfeiture of the
lands of the rebels, and for harsh measures against the Catholics.
He hesitate* James, on his part, hung back from taking such steps
u^hil''11 as these- Even if he had the will, it may be doubted
victory. whether he had the power to carry out the wishes of
the ministers. The nobles who had led their vassals against
Huntly and his confederates might be willing enough to render a
Spanish invasion impossible, but they would hardly have looked
on with complacency at the destruction of these great houses,
in which they would have seen a precedent which might after-
ward, be used against themselves.1 Nor was the power of the
earls themselves such as to be Overthrown by a single defeat;
every vassal on their broad domains was attached to them by
ties far stronger than those which bound him to his Sovereign ;
and if their land were confiscated, many years would pass before
1 " I have been the day before the dateof these with the King to receive
answer in writing according to hi 1 prorni e. 1 l< bath deferred the same till
my n«t repair. 'I effect 1 know ; and ii tendeth to satisfy hei Maje ty
with all promise on his part. But he di himself ol mean against
the purposi ioI lh I men who have embraced Spanish ■
^1 fbi the nobility of this land, they be so
interallied, as, notwithstanding the religion they profess, they tolerate the
opposite courses of the adverse part, and < ■ eoi cloke the faults com
mitted. The as ured | arty 1 ■ of the mini t< 1 . barons, and burghs. With
■ the King is bound, as he cannot suddenly change bis coui e appa-
rently. But yet of hi rel barkenings by the mediation of them who
in special credit with him h< ected." Bowe to Burghley,
March 30, 1593, S. P. Scott, i. 47.
E 2
Sz CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. II.
the new owners could expect to live in safety without the
support of a powerful military force.
It can hardly be supposed, indeed, that James was in-
fluenced by no other motives than these. He was probably
unwilling to crush a power which served to counterbalance
that of the ministers, and he lent a ready ear to the solicita-
tions of the courtiers who were around him. The earls were
once more too strong to be put down without another war. At
last he declared that they were to receive a full pardon for all
that was past, but that they, as well as all other Catholics in
Scotland, must either embrace the Protestant faith or leave the
kingdom. If they chose the latter alternative they were to be
allowed to retain their possessions during their exile.
Such an award as this drew down upon the King the wrath
of both parties. The ministers reviled it as over-lenient to
,s94. Popery, and the Catholics looked upon it as an act of
Huntly and intolerable persecution. Huntly and Errol refused
l\nol driven ' '
into exile. to accept the terms, and succeeded in defeating the
troops which were sent against them under the Earl of Argyle.
Upon receiving the news of this disaster James once more
marched into the north, the ministers having supported him with
the money of which he was in need. The success of the Royal
arms was immediate. All resistance was crushed at once, and
the earls themselves were forced to take refuge on the Continent.
This victory may be considered to be the turning-point
of James's reign in Scotland. It established decisively not
only that the nation was determined to resist foreign
King's interference, hut that the King had now a national
e at his disposal which even the greatest of the
nobility were unable to resist. The Scottish aristocracy would
long be far too powerful for the good of their fellow-country-
men, but they would no longer be able to beard their Sovereign
with impunity.
In the summer of 1596, Huntly and Errol were once
more in Scotland. Put this time they did not come
Return of to levy war upon the King; they were content to
Huntly and * .',.,. ,-,,',
skulk in various hiding-places till they could receive
permission to present themselves before him.
1596 AX DREW MELVILLE. 53
James was not disinclined to listen to their overtures. To
drive the earls to the last extremity would be to ruin the work
of pacification which he had so successfully accomplished.
He had no wish to undertake a crusade in which he would
find little assistance from any but the ministers and their
supporters, and which would raise against him a feeling in
the whole of the North of Scotland which might cause him no
little trouble in the event of a contest arising for the English
succession. On the other hand, he may well have thought that
the carls had now learned that they were no longer capable
of measuring themselves against their Sovereign, and that
they would in future refrain from any treasonable under-
takings.
These views, which were justified by the event, and in
which he was supported by the statesmen by whom he was
now surrounded, were not likely to find much favour with the
clergy. Towards the end of August, a convention of the
I tates was held at Falkland to consider what course was to be
.)tj,,n taken ; and certain ministers who, as it is said, were
at Falkland. Ukgjy to L,jVc ;l favourable reply, were summoned to
declare their opinions. Amongst them, Andrew Melville pre-
sented himself, uninvited. He was the Presbyterian leader of
the day, with a mind narrower than that of Knox, the champion
of a system rather than a spiritual guide. He had come, he
d, in the name of Christ Jesus the King, and his Church, to
• harge James and the Estates with favouring the enemies of both.
Those who were present paid little heed to such objections as
e, and gave it as their opinion, that if the earls would satisfy
the King and the Church, it would be well to restore them to
their estates.
I'pon hearing what hail pas ed, the Commissioners of the
General A is< tnbly, who were appointed to watch over the in
terests of the Church, during the intervals between
"t 1i1.1t body, invited a number 01
ministers to assemble al Cupar, These mini tei
soon as they had met together, determined to send a deputation
to the King This deputation was admitted to in, pri
but when they began to lay their complaints before him, he
54 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. n.
interrupted them by questioning their authority to meet with-
out a warrant from himself. Upon this, Melville, who was one
of the deputation, seized him by the sleeve, and calling him
-.". lie and 'God's silly vassal,' told him, in tones which must
1 ' Kingi long have rung in his ears, that there were two kings
and two kingdoms in Scotland : " There is Christ Jesus the
King," he said, ''and his kingdom the Church, whose subject
King James VI. is, and of whose kingdom not a king, nor a lord,
nor a head, but a member. And they whom Christ has called
and commanded to watch over his Church, and govern his
spiritual kingdom, have sufficient power of him and authority
so to do, both together and severally ; the which no Christian
King nor Prince should control and discharge, but fortify and
assist." He concluded by saying that the King's wish to be
served by all sorts of men, Jew and Gentile, Papist and Pro-
testant, was devilish and pernicious. He was attempting
to balance the Protestants and the Papists, in order that he
might keep them both in check. By such a plan as this, he
would end by losing both.1
There was enough of truth in all this to make it tell upon
the King. It is highly probable that the scheme which
Melville thus dragged out to the light had more to do with
his conduct towards the carls than any enlightened views on
the subject of toleration. He was now frightened at Melville's
vehemence, and promised that nothing should be done for the
returned rebels till they had once more left the country, and
had satisfied the Church
( )n October 20, the Commissioners of the General Assembly
met at Edinburgh They immediately wrote to all the presby-
(; „n. teries in Scotland, informing them that the earls had
returned, with the evident purpose of putting down
and massacring the followers of the Gospel, and
that it was probable that the King would take them under his
protection. Under these circumstances, every minister was
to make known to his congregation the true nature of the
impending danger, and to stir them up to resistance. In the
1 J. Melville's Diary, 368-371.
1596 THE KING AND THE MINISTERS. 55
meanwhile, a permanent Commission was to sit in Edinburgh
to consult upon the perils of the Church and kingdom. Such a
step might or might not be justifiable in itself, but there could
be no doubt that it was an open defiance of the Government.
From that moment a breach between the clergy and the Crown
was inevitable.1
Of all the controversies which still perplex the historical
inquirer, there is perhaps none which is more eminently un-
... r satisfactory than that which has been handed down
Character of '
the quam] from the sixteenth century on the subject of the
between the
Kingand quarrel between James and the clergy. It is easy to
the clergy. . . . . " ... , ,
say that in aspiring to political supremacy the clergy
exceeded the proper limits of their office, and that in this
particular instance they were animated by a savage spirit of
intolerance. It is equally easy to say that they had no reason
to repose confidence in James, and that the stopping of their
mouths would he a national misfortune, as the freedom of the
pulpit furnished the only means by which the arbitrary ten-
dencies of the Sovereign could be kept in check. The fact
seems to have been, that whilst the victory either of the King
or of the clergy was equally undesirable, it was impossible to
suggest a compromise by which the rupture could have been
prevented. There was nothing in existence which, like the
English House of Commons, could hold the balance even.
Partly from thi 1 condition of the country, and partly
from the feet that the Scottish Parliament had never been
divided into two Houses, that body was a mere instrument in
the hands of the King and of the nobility ; and if the mouths
of the clergy were to In- stopped, there remained no means
by which the nation could l»- addressed excepting at the
pleasure of the ( rovernment
Tin weakness of the cause of the ministers lay in this —
,,. , , that they defended on religious grounds what <ouM
W ■ ,, m is of ', .
1 r only be justified as a political necessity. Thai the
the clergy. . . . .
General Assembly was m some sort a substitute
fur a real House of Commons; that the organization of the
1 Caldei wo /, v. 443.
$6 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, en. n.
Church had been invaluable in counteracting the exorbitant
power of the nobility and the thoughtless unwisdom of the
King ; and that the liberty of speech on political subjects which
had been preserved in the pulpit had done service for which
Scotland can never be sufficiently thankful, are propositions
which no candid reader of the history of those times will ever
venture to deny. But when the ministers asserted that these
things were part of the Divine endowment of the Church, and
i laimed to maintain their ground in spite of all human ordin-
an< es to the contrary, they committed themselves to an assertion
which was certain to rouse opposition wherever the institutions
of a lay society were regarded with honour.
As the guardian of the interests of lay society James was
thoroughly justified in resisting the claim of the clergy to
play in Scotland the part of the medieval Papacy. It was
some time, however, before he made up his mind that it
would be safe to oppose the clergy, and he probably clung to
ti?. the hope that some amicable arrangement might still
'„'1th be possible. Me directed four members of the Privy
oners. Council to hold an interview with a deputation of the
Commissioners, to declare, in his name, that he would do
nothing for the earls or their followers till they had satisfied
the Church ; and to ask whether, if the Church should think fit
to release them from the excommunication which had been
pronounced against them, he might receive them again into
;:. To these propositions the ministers gave a decided
answer. They reminded the King of his promise that he would
listen to the earls till they had again left the country.
When they were once more out of Scotland, then, and not till
then, the Church would hear what they had to say. But even
if the Church saw fit to release them from its sentence, the
King might not show favour to men who were under sentence
of death for rebellion.
,ie few days bef ;re this interview took place, Bowes, the
BUcI English Resident at the Scottish Court, was in-
formed that David Black, one of the ministers of
St. Andrews, had, in preaching, used expressions insulting to
the O^en and Church of England. Although he was at that
1596 THE KING'S DEMANDS. 57
time actively engaged in supporting the ministers in their op-
position to the King, he thought it right to protest against
Black's offence. He found that James had already heard of
the affair, and was determined to take steps to bring the offender
to punishment.1
Accordingly, when, a day or two after, the Privy Councillors
reported the unyielding temper in which their proposals had
The King's Deen received by the ministers, the King replied to
a deputation of the clergy, which had come for the
purpose of complaining of their grievances, by telling them
plainly that there could be no good agreement between him
and them till the limits of their respective jurisdictions had
been more clearly defined. For his part he claimed that, in
preaching, the clergy should abstain from speaking of matters
of state; that the General Assembly should only meet when
summoned by him ; that its decisions should have no validity
till after they had received his sanction ; and that the Church
1 " I received from Roger Ashton this letter enclosed, and containing
such dishonourable effects against Her Majesty as I have thought it my
duty to send the letter to your Lordship. . . . The King, I perceive, is
both privy to this address mide to me, and also intendeth to try the matter:-.
objected against Mr. David Black. . . . The credit of the authors of this
report against him is commended to be good and famous. Nevertheh ss,
he hath (I hear) flatly denied the utterance of any words in pulpit or pri-
vately against Her Majesty, offering himself to all torments upon prool
thereof. Yet, seeing the offence is alleged to have been publicly done by
him in his sermon,, and to lie sufficiently proved against him by Credible
witnei • , I hall therefore call for his timely trial and due punishment "
(Bowi to Burghley, Nov. i, 1596,.?. /'. Scot/., lix. 63). A ton's account
in the letter enclosed and dated Oct. ;,i 1 a follows: " About fourteen
days since, Mr. David Black, minister of St. Andrews, in two or tin.
hu rmons , .. most unreverently said that Her Majesty was an athi
and that the religion thai ed there was l>ut a show (?) of reli-
gion guided and directed 1')' tli' Bishop's injunctions; and they could not
Ontent with this at home, hut would persuade the King to bring in the
same here, and thereby to \«- debarred of the liberty ol the word. I
ken I')- ] f credit to the King, who is highly offended, and at
his coming to Edinburgh will bring the matter int. These extra
.-how that the charge against Black was a bona /;■■' n 1 ' Dl ■ '■> an in-ult
supposed to have been directed against the Queen, and not a mere scheme
to get up an attack against the privileges of the Chi-reh.
58 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. II.
courts should not meddle with causes which properly came
under the cognisance of the law of the land.1
According to the ideas which are prevalent in our own day,
these demands could only be met either by a frank renuncia-
tion of the independent position which had been assumed by
the clergy, followed by a request for permission to retain those
rights which upon impartial investigation could be shown to be
advantageous to their congregations, or by a denial that the
State was sufficiently organised to make it probable that justice
would be done to them if they renounced their exclusive
privileges.
Such a reply was not likely to be made in the sixteenth
century. The Edinburgh Commissioners, as soon as they
heard what had passed, prepared to defend themselves against
an attack upon what they considered to be the purely
spiritual privileges of the Church. To them all interference
with the Church courts was an assault made by King James
upon the kingdom of Jesus Christ, of which they were the
appointed guardians. We cannot blame them. If their logic
was faulty, their instinct told them truly that, if James were
allowed to gain a victory here, he would speedily follow it up
by assailing them on ground which was more clearly their own.
They therefore, at their meeting on November 1 1, resolved to
resist to the uttermost, and they were strengthened in their
lution by hearing that, the day before, Black had been sum-
moned to appear on the iSth before the Council, to answer for
the expressions which he was said to have used in his sermons.2
On the following day the Commissioners determined that
Black should decline to allow his case to be tried before the
i . ,um. King and Council. The King being applied to,
told them that he would be satisfied if Black would
appear before him and prove his innocence, but
that he would not suffer him to decline the jurisdiction of the
Council.
Under these circumstances a collision was unavoidable
1 Caldcrwood, v. 451.
2 Calderwood, v. 453. Summons of Mr. David Black, Nov. 10, 1596,
.S". P. Scotl. lbc. 83.
1596 RESISTANCE OE THE MINISTERS. 59
The question was in reality only to be decided by allowing one
of tvo parties to be judges in a ease in which both of them
were equally interested. No compromise was suggested on
either side ; nor, indeed, was any possible. Accordingly, on
the 17th, the ministers drew up a declaration, which was to be
given in by Black on the following day, in which he protested,
in their name and in his own, that the King had no jurisdiction
over offences committed in preaching, until the Church had
decided against the accused minister.1 Accordingly, on the
[8th, Black appeared before the Council and declined its juris-
diction. After some discussion, the final decision upon his case
was postponed till the 30th.2 The Commissioners at once
sent the declinature to all the Presbyteries, requesting them to
testify by their subscriptions their agreement with the course
which had been pursued at Edinburgh.3
On the 22nd, the King took a final resolution with respect
to the Earl of Huntly. He decided that, as it was impos-
; ,. . sible to exterminate the whole of his following with-
Cond" 1 1 -,-rr , L
ex- out great danger and dilhculty, some terms must be
acted fp.in . . - . . ,
iri of granted, if the country were not to be exposed to a
perpetual danger. He therefore required that the
should find sixteen landowners who would enter into bonds
for him that he would leave the realm on April 1, if he had
not previously satisfied the Church, that he would banish from
his company all Jesuits, priests, and excommunicated persons,
and that he would engage in no attempt to disquiet the pea< 1
of the country. At the same time James issued a proclamation,
forbidding all persons to communicate with Huntly and Errol,
and ordering preparations to he made for levying a force, which
v... . to 111. in h against them if they should refuse the conditions
whi< h lie hail offered.4
1 Tlii, n e the natural interpretation of tin- phrase in primd
instantid, and agrees with the theory ol the Church courts which prevailed
at the time.
- Record of Privy Council, in McCries Life of Melville, note KK.
1 alderwood, v. 460.
* The articles set flown by His Majesty. Proclamation against the
EarK, Nov. 22, 1596, S. /'. Scot/, lix. 69, 70.
60 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. li.
Two days later, the King heard that the ministers had sent
the declinature to the Presbyteries for signature. He imme-
Negotia- diately directed three proclamations to be drawn up.
The first prohibited the ministers from making any
niack. convocation of his subjects ; the second charged
those ministers who had come up from the country to return
to their several parishes ; and the third contained a new
summons to Black to appear before the Council to answer
not merely for his reflections on Elizabeth, but for several
contemptuous observations on the King himself, and on his
authority.1
Before, however, these proclamations were issued, an
attempt was made by the ministers to come to terms with the
King. Two or three days were spent in negotiations, which
failed because neither party would give way on the main point.
\i cordingly, on the 27th,2 the proclamations were allowed to
appear.
The next day was Sunday. Every pulpit in Edinburgh was
occupied by a minister who put forth all his energies in animat-
The second ing the people to join in the defence of the kingdom
declinature. Qf Q-,rJst, whose spiritual jurisdiction was attacked.
Whatever effect these arguments may have had upon the minds
of the hearers, they had none whatever upon the King. Black
having appeared before the Council on the 30th, and having
once more declined its jurisdiction, a formal resolution was
passed to the effe< t that, as the Church had nothing to do with
deciding on questions of treason and sedition, the Court refused
to admit the declinature.
Upon this James made another overture. If Black would
come before him, and de< lare upon his conscience the truth
concerning the matters with which he was charged,
The King's ,
he should he freely pardoned. James forgot that he
had to flo with men who, whether they were right or
wrong, were contending for a great principle, and who were not
to be moved by a mere offer of forgiveness. They told the King
1 Proclamations, Nov. 24, 1596, .V. /'. Scoll. lix. 72, 73, 74.
2 Calderwood, 465. Lowes to liurghlcy, Nov. 27, 1596, S. P. Scotl.
lix. 75.
1596 BAXISHMEXT OF BLACK. 61
that they were resisting him on behalf of the liberty of
Christ's gospel and kingdom, and that they would continue to
do so until he retracted what he had done.1 James appears
to have been to some extent intimidated by their firmness.
Although the Council was engaged in receiving depositions
against Black,2 yet the King himself continued the negotiations
into which he had entered, and on the following morning
agreed to withdraw the acts of the Council upon which the
proclamations had been founded, and to relinquish the proceed-
ings against Black, on condition that he would, in the King's
presence, make a declaration of the facts of his case to three of
his brother ministers. before, however, Black could be brought
before him, James had, in consequence of the representations
of some who were about him, changed his mind so far as to
ask that he should acknowledge at least his fault towards the
Queen.3 This Black utterly refused to do, and the negotiations
came to an end. The Council immediately assembled, and as
he did not appear, proceeded to pronounce him guilty, leaving
the penalty to be fixed by the King.
It was some days before the sentence was carried into
effect The negotiations which had been broken off were once
I more resumed. As before, both sides were ready to
give way in everything excepting on the main point
at issue. At last the King's j atience was exhausted,
and he ordered black to go into banishment to the north of the
Tay. Not long afterwards, the Commissioners were directed
Edinburgh, and the ministers were informed that those
who refused to submit would be punished by the loss of their
stipends.
The Commissioners had not been Ion one when a fresh
proposal was made by the King to the ministers of the town.
It is unlikely that, under any < in umstant es, it would
Octavinns. j,avc Deen attended with sat isfa< tory results. But,
however that may have been, James did not give fail plaj to
1 CaldowooJ, v. 482.
-' Depositions, Dec. I, 1596, .'•'. P. Scotl. lix. •'
■ tie was to 'confess an offence done to the Queen at least.' Caldcr-
wood, v. 486.
62 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. n.
his renewed attempts at conciliation. Unfortunately there were
those about the Court who were interested in bringing the
quarrel to an issue. The King had for some months placed
his confidence in a body of eighr persons, who on account of
their number went by the name of the Octavians. Under their
management the finances were being reduced to some degree
of order, an operation which had only been rendered possible
by a considerable reduction of the Royal expenditure. As a
natural consequence, the Court was crowded with men whose
income was curtailed by the economy which had lately come
into fashion, and who longed for the downfall of the Octavians,
in order that the money which was now spent upon worthier
objects might once more flow into their own pockets. Accord-
Thecour- ingly, there were actually to be found amongst the
upVi)c"r courtiers some who were prepared to inflame the al
quarrel. ready sufficiently angry temper which prevailed on both
sides, in order to make their own profit in the general scramble
which would ensue. On the one hand, they informed the
King that some of the citizens of Edinburgh kept a nightly watch
round the house in which the ministers lived, and that they might
at any time rise in insurrection against the Government. On
the other hand, they told the ministers that the Octavians were
at the bottom of all that had passed, and that it was through
their means that the Popish lords had been allowed to return.
James at once fell into the trap, and, on the night of the 1 6th,
red twenty-four of the principal citizens of Edinburgh to
leave the town. As soon as the courtiers knew that this order
had been given, they wrote to the ministers, telling them that
it had been procured from the king by Huntly, who, as they
falsely alleged, had visited him shortly before it had been
issued.
On the morning of the 17th, Walter Balcanqual, after com-
plaining in his sermon of the banishment of so many innocent
„ . . persons, inveighed against the principal Octavians,
Meeting in 111,
me and requested the noblemen and gentlemen who
were present to meet with the ministers in the Little
Kirk after the conclusion of the sermon. As soon as they were
assembled the meeting was addressed by Robert Bruce, one of
1596 TUMULT IN EDIXBURGH. 63
the foremost of the Edinburgh ministers, and it was deter-
mined that a deputation should be sent to the King to remon-
Deputadon strate with him, and to demand the dismissal of his
to the King, councillors. James received them at the Tolbooth,
and after some sharp words had passed on both sides, left the
room without giving them any answer. Upon the return of the
deputation to those who sent them, they found that the state of
affairs had greatly changed in their absence. As soon as they
had left the church, a foolish minister had thought fit to occupy
the minds of the excited multitude by reading to them the nar-
rative of the destruction of Hainan, from the book of Esther.
Tumult in Whilst they were attending to this, some one among
"ls- the crowd, who, according to the popular belief of the
time, had been suborned by the courtiers, raised a cry of 'Fly !
save yourselves ! ' Upon this, the whole congregation, with
their minds full of the supposed treachery of the Octavians and
the Popish lords, rushed out from the church in order to put
Oil their armour. In a moment the streets were full of an
alarmed crowd of armed men, who hardly knew what was the
danger against which they had risen, or what were the steps
which they were to take in order to provide against it. Some
of them, not knowing what to do, rushed to the Tolbooth, and
demanded that the most obnoxious of the Octavians should be
delivered Up to them.
Such a tumult as this was not likely to last long. The
provost had little difficulty in persuading nun who had no
wtfly definite object in view to return to their homes, a
■upprMMd. t^k jn WMj, n ne received the full support of the
ministers.
James's conducl was not dignified. He seems to have
been thoroughly frightened by what was passing around him,
Behaviour erf ■'""' '"' Sl '"' :,t """' '" ''"' ministers, to whose < 0m
the Kmg. plaints he had bo lately refused to listen, directing
them to send another deputation to him at Holyrood, to which
place of safety he proceeded under the e» ort of the magistrates,
as soon as the tumult was pa< Lfii <1.
Accordingly, in tl the new deputation set out for
Holyrood, carrying with them a petition in whii h among other
64 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. n.
things, they simply demanded that everything which had been
done to the prejudice of the Church during the past five weeks
should be at once annulled. They can hardly have expected
that James would grant such a request as this. He was now no
Longer under the influence of terror, and everyone who was in
his company during that afternoon must have urged him not
to give way to such a gratuitous acknowledgment of defeat. If
lie had received the deputation, and had announced to them
that, though he was ready to agree to any reasonable terms, he
would not surrender the rights of the Crown, there would have
been nothing to say against his conduct ; but, instead of doing
this, he was mean enough to employ Lord Ochiltree to meet the
deputation on its way, in order that he might terrify or cajole
them into returning without fulfilling their mission.1
The next morning James set off for Linlithgow, leaving
behind him a proclamation commanding all strangers to leave
Heicives Edinburgh at once, and ordering the removal of the
Edinburgh. courts 0f Justice. It was evident that he in-
tended to make use of the tumult of the day before to bring
the question between the clergy and himself to an issue. No
doubt he was determined to make the most of an affair which
was in reality of very little consequence ; but it is unlikely that he
was influenced, as is generally supposed, by any very deep and
hypocritical policy. In his eyes, the tumult must have assumed
far larger proportions than it does to us, standing at this dis-
tance of time ; and even if he had not been surrounded by
men who were unwilling to allow the truth to penetrate to his
ears, he would naturally suppose that the ministers had taken a
far more direct part in the disturbance than had in reality been
the case. The ministers certainly did not take such a course as
was likely to disabuse him of his mistake. They wrote to Lord
niton, who, in consequence of his elder brother's insanity,
was at the head of the great house which ruled over the impor-
tant district of Clydesdale, begging him to come to Edinburgh,
and to put himself at their head.2 On the following day Bruce
1 CalJcnvoo'l, v. 502-514. Spottiswoode (Spottiswoodc Society's ed.),
iii. 27, 32. ! to Burghley, Dec. 17, 1596. S. V. Scotl. lix. 87.
2 Caltienvood, v. 514. The letter, before it reached the King's hands,
1597 EDINBURGH REDUCED TO SUBMISSION. 65
preached with all his energy against the assailants of the Church,
and another minister made a violent personal attack upon the
King. Accordingly, on the 20th, the magistrates of Edinburgh
were ordered to commit as prisoners to the Castle the ministers
of the town, together with certain of the citizens, in order that
they might answer for their proceedings on the day of the
tumult. Bruce and some others of the ministers, knowing
that they could not expect a fair trial at the hands of their
opponents, sought safety in flight.1 Shortly afterwards, the
Council declared that the tumult had been an act of treason.
At the same time, the King issued a declaration, which he
required every minister to sign, on pain of losing his stipend.
By this signature he was to bind himself to submit to the
King's judicatory in all civil and criminal causes, and especially
in questions of treason and sedition.
James was determined to show that physical force at least
was on his side. There was scarcely a noble in Scotland who
did not look with displeasure upon the pretensions
submission, of the clergy ; and the King had soon at his com-
mand a force which made all resistance useless. On
January 1, 1597, he entered Edinburgh, and received the sub-
mission of the townsmen. Going to the High Church, he
declared his determination to uphold the reformed religion. At
the same time, however, he refrained from any declaration of his
intention to pardon those who had taken part in the late tumult,
and left them with the charge of treason hanging over their
heads.
It had not been very difficult to overpower the resistance
of the ministers ; but. it was by no m< ans so easy to devise a
s< heme by which such collisions might be prevent* d
r)'fr":ult r , r Ml ■ r ,
position** for the future. 1 here were, 111 fact, only two w
in which it was possible to obviate the continual
danger of a renewal of the quarrel On the one hand, James
might, if he were strong enough, recall into existence the
abolished Episcopacy, or, in other words, he might attempt
was in some way or other altered, so as to contain expn if appro-
bation of the tumult.
1 CatJcncooJ, v. 514-521 ; Spottiswoodt^ iii. 32 35.
VOL. I. F
66 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, ch. n.
once more to keep the ministers in silence and subjection by
means of members of their own order. On the other hand,
there was a proposal which had been often made for admitting
the representatives of the Church to a share in the deliberations
of Parliament, without giving to those representatives any
title or jurisdiction derived from the Crown. Parliament would
thus, it might be hoped, step in some degree into the place
which was occupied by the body which bore the same name in
England, so as to give full play to all the social forces which
existed in the country, and to support the Crown in its efforts
to mediate between the nobility and the clergy.
This last scheme had the advantage of the advocacy of the
Secretary, John Lindsay of Balcarres,1 who was decidedly the
ablest statesman in the countrv. Irreconcilably op-
Scheme of . ' . . . '
Lindsay of posed to the pretensions of the ministers to an inde-
pendent position, he was no less opposed to the equally
exorbitant pretensions of the high nobility. It was to him
that the representatives of the smaller landed gentry owed their
introduction into Parliament. He hoped to be able by their
means to counterbalance to some extent the votes of the heads
of the great feudal houses. In the same spirit, he was anxious
to see the representatives of the Church added to the numbers
of those who were summoned to Parliament to treat of matters
of national concern.2
1 The fact that he put it forward in the spring of 1596, in connection
with a scheme which ina<lc the restoration of prelacy impossible, shows
that he did not advocate it as a covert means of introducing Episcopacy.
Calderwood, v. 420.
[| is generally supposed that the greatest difficulty would have been
found with the High Presbyterian clergy. Vet if, as was in itself desirable,
ipulation had been made that the representatives of the Church in
Parliament should always be laymen, it is unlikely that they would have
At the Conference at Holyrood House in 1599, "It was de-
manded, who could vote for the Kirk, if not ministers? Answered, it
might stand better with the office of an elder or deacon nor of a minister,
they having commission from the Kirk and subject to render an account
of their doing at the General Assembly, and that, indeed, we would have
the Kirk as fair enjoying her privileges as any other, and have His Ma-
jesty satisfied, and the affairs of the common weal helped ; but not with
the hinder, wreck and corruption of the spiritual ministry of God's wor-
1597 PROPOSED REFORM OF PARLIAMENT. 67
Yet, specious as this scheme appears, it may well be doubted
whether it would have been attended with any satisfactory results.
It is true that if the evils under which Scotland was labouring
had been merely the results of a defect in the institutions of
NotHkeiyto tne country, no plan could possibly have been de-
-ed- vised which was more likely to be successful than
the union of the bodies which were in reality two distinct
Parliaments, legislating independently of one another, and
constantly coming into collision. But the truth was, that the
two Parliaments were in reality the leaders of two distinct
peoples living within the limits of one country, and that any
attempt to bring them to work together would only have been
attended by a violent explosion. If, indeed, James had been
a different man, and if he had from the beginning of his reign
given a sympathising but not unlimited co-operation to the cause
of the ministers, which was in reality the cause of good order
as well as of religion, he might have been able to mediate
with effect between the two classes of his subjects. If, for
instance, he had been a man such as was the great founder of
the Dutch Republic, the clergy would at least have listened
to him respectfully when he told them that, for political reasons,
it was impossible to deal as they wished with the northern Earls.
At all events they would not have been goaded into unwise
assertions of questionable rights by the supposition, which,
however ill-founded, was by no means unreasonable, that the
Kin^' was at heart an enemy to the Protestant religion as well
as to the politic al pretensions of the clergy.
shipping, and salvation of his people" ■ wood, v. 752). In 1592, at
the time when the acts confirming the Pr< 1 n system were pa ed,
the English Re idenl wrote a, follow : "Sundry laws arc made in favour
of the < hurch ; bni thi oi the ministry to have vote in Parliament
is denied, notwith landing thai they pressed the same earnestly, in n
that the temp of the prelates (having place in Parliament foi thi
' Imrch) were now erected and put in temporal lords and | er on , and that
the number of the prelates remaining are few and not ufficienl to erve
fnr the Church in Parliament " (Bowes to Burghley, June 6, 1592, S. /'.
. xlviii. 44). The real difficulty would have comi from the nobli ,
if the ministers could have been convinced that the King was acting in
good faith.
t 2
68 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, ch II.
But this was not to be. James found himself in a position
from which there was no satisfactory way of escape. He found
Difficulties himself led on, step by step, from an undertaking in
of James. which he at first embarked with a view to restrain
encroachments upon his own power, till, before his death, he
had himself encroached far upon the proper domain of the
clergy, and had sown the seeds of the whirlwind which was to
sweep away his son.
It soon became evident that there were considerable diffi-
culties to be overcome before the clergy and the nobility could
be brought to work together in Parliament. It was not easy to
obtain the consent of the ministers to the change, suspicious
as they naturally were of the intentions which might be con-
cealed under the King's proposal. The only chance of gaining
the approval of a General Assembly lay in resorting to a
manoeuvre. It was well known that the character of the
Assembly was in a great measure influenced by the locality in
which it met, as few of the ministers were able to afford to
travel from distant parts of the country. Accordingly, James
summoned the Assembly to meet at Perth, in order
northern that it might be convenient for the ministers of
the north to attend. These men had never shared
the feelings which animated their brethren in the south, and
were generally regarded by the High Presbyterian party as
ignorant and unlearned. There were, however, on this occasion
special reasons which would move them to take part with the
King. If they were in some measure cut off from the intellec-
tual movement of Edinburgh and St. Andrews, they were far
more practically acquainted with the power of the northern
I rls. If the confiscation of the lands of Huntly and Errol
would in reality have served the Protestant cause, it cannot be
doubted that these men would have been ready to cry out for
it. In reality they must have known that they would have been
the first to suffer from the confusion into which the country
would have been thrown by any attempt to carry such a sentence
into execution, and they were ready to support the authority of
me King, which promised them the best chance of a quiet life
fjr the future.
1597 RESTRICTIONS ON THE CLERGY. 69
When the Assembly met at Perth, on February 29, the
King was not contented with leaving the northern ministers to
The come to their own conclusions. The courtiers were
Assembly employed to flatter and caress them. They were
at Perth. ' J ...
told that it was time for them to make a stand
against the arrogance of the Popes of Edinburgh. They
were closeted with the King himself, who used all the argu-
ments at his disposal to win them to his side. The result was
seen as soon as the first great question was brought before the
Assembly. They were asked whether the Assembly was lawfully
convened or not. The High Presbyterian party declared that
it was not, as it had been summoned by royal authority ; but, in
Npite of all their efforts, the question was decided against them.
As soon as this point was settled, James proposed thirteen
articles, to which he wished them to give their replies. The
question of the vote in Parliament he left to another occasion,
but he obtained permission to propose to a future Assembly
alterations in the external government of the Church. The
Assembly also agreed that no minister should find fault with
the King's proceedings until he had first sought for remedy in
vain, nor was he to denounce anyone by name from the pulpit,
excepting in certain exceptional circumstances. The ministers
were forbidden to meet in extraordinary conventions, and leave
was given to the Presbyteries of Moray and Aberdeen to treat
with the Karl of Huntly, who was asking, with no very good
^race, for admission into the 'Protestant Church.
The King had thus gained the consent of the Assembly
to the view which he took on most of the questions at issue
between himself and the clergy. But a vote obtained by Court
influence could not possibly have commanded the respect of
those who were bound by it, and it was not by the shadow of
legality which was thus thrown over the royal acts that the
Melvilles and the Blacks were to be restrained from pronoun-
cing the whole affair to be a mere caricature of the true Assem-
blies of the Church.1
1 Melville's Diary, 403-414. Book of the Universal Kirk (Bannatyne
Club), 889.
70 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, ch. ll.
Two months later another Assembly met at Dundee,
principally composed of the same class of persons, and ani-
mated by a similar spirit. They agreed to accept the
mbiy submission of Huntly, Errol, and Angus, and gave
permission for their absolution from the sentence
of excommunication which had been pronounced upon them.
They consented that a commission should be granted to certain
of the principal ministers to confer from time to time with the
King's Commissioners on the subject of the settlement of the
ministers' stipends, and to give their advice to the King on all
matters concerning the affairs of the Church. This appoint-
ment was long afterwards regarded as the first step towards
the introduction of Bishops. But it may be doubted whether
as yet James had formed any such intention. At present, his
wishes seem to have been confined to the discovery of some
means by which his authority might be maintained, and his
experience of the last two Assemblies may well have led him
to suppose that he could effect his purpose far better by the
use of his personal influence than by any change in the existing
6ystem of Church government.
On June 26, the three Earls were released from their ex-
communication at Aberdeen, upon declaring their adhesion to
lution doctrines at which they must have inwardly revolted.
of the EarU. However necessary it might have been to relieve
them from civil penalties, the ministers who hung back from
< ountenancing this scene of hypocrisy stand out in bright con-
trast to the King who forced the supposed penitents to submit
I such an indignity.
In the course of the following month the Edinburgh minis-
ters were again permitted to occupy their pulpits. The town had
some time before been pardoned for the tumult of December 17,
but not until a heavy fine had been exacted from it.
James now seemed to have established his authority on a
sure foundation. Huntly and the great nobles were reduced
to live for the future as peaceable subjects. The
return of the exiles had not been attended with the
results which the ministers had predicted. From
this time we hear no more of intrigues with foreign powers for
1597 THE CLERICAL VOTE IN PARLIAMENT. 71
the overthrow of the monarchy. The Church, too, had by
means which will not bear too close inspection, been induced to
renounce some of its most exorbitant pretensions, and it
seemed as if days of peace were in store for Scotland.
Everything depended on the spirit in which James took
in hand the measure by which he hoped to obtain for the
ministers a vote in Parliament, and on the success by
Proposal
'he which his efforts were attended. On December 1 3
clergy . „ .
Parliament met, and the Commissioners appointed
in £arii£te by the last Assembly, who had no doubt come to an
understanding with the King, petitioned that the
Church might be represented in future Parliaments. Here,
however, they met with unexpected obstacles. The great men
who sat in Parliament were by no means willing to see their
debates invaded by a crowd of ministers, or even by lay dele-
5 who should be responsible to an ecclesiastical assembly.
Unwilling to assent to the proposal, and yet desiring not
to displease the King, they passed an Act authorising those
persons to sit in Parliament who might be appointed by the
King to the offices of Bishop or Abbot, or to any other prelacy.
h an Act was in reality in direct opposition to the petition
which had been presented. The Commissioners had asked
for seats for representatives of the clergy. The Parliament
granted seats to two classes of persons: to laymen who had
accepted ecclesiastica] titles in order to enable them to hold
Church property, and to ministers who were appointed by the
King, and who need not have any iellowTeeling at all with
their brethren. It was said at the time that those who assented
to this A< t were indu< ed to do so by the belief that no minister
would accept a bishoprit from the King, and thai they would
thus be able to shelve for ever so dis tasteful a subject At the
same time, they took cur to point OUt that their wisli was that
the new Bishops should, if they ever came into existence, be
employed to exercise jurisdiction of some kind or other, by
enacting that the King should treat with the Assembly on the
office to be exercised by them 'in their spiritual policy and
government in the Church.' '
1 Aiti of Fail. Scotl. iv. 130.
iz CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND. CH. II.
On March 7, 1598, the Assembly met once more at Dun-
dee. As on former occasions, every influence was used to win
over the members to support the policy of the Court.
Assembly There was one, however, amongst those who had
presented themselves who was known to be in-
tractable. Andrew Melville was not to be seduced or in-
timidated in the performance of his duty. James had, accord-
ingly, in no very straightforward way, taken measures to pre-
Andrew vent his sharing in the discussions of the Assembly,
^bidden ^n tne preceding summer he had himself visited
l0Slt- St. Andrews, and, under his influence, a new rule
had been laid down by which all teachers in the University
who did not at the same time hold a ministerial charge were
prohibited from taking any part in Church assemblies. He
now, in virtue of this rule, which can hardly have been made
except for the express purpose of excluding the great leader of
the Church party, refused to allow Melville to take his seat.
It was not without opposition that the King carried his
_ point. He declared that what he desired was not to
The Kings , ...
proposal have ' Papistical or Anglican Bishops. He wished
that the best and wisest of the ministry should take
part in the deliberations of the Council and of the Parliament,
in order that they might be able to speak on behalf of the
Church. He himself took a share in the debates, and allowed
himself to make an unfair use of his position to interrupt the
speakers, and to bear down all opposition. At last, by a small
majority, the Assembly decided that fifty-one representatives of
the Church should vote in Parliament. The election of these
was to pertain in part to the King and in part to the Church.
They did not think fit to descend any further into particulars
at the time. An opportunity was to be allowed to the various
1 Tesbyteries and Synods to consider of the precise position which
was to be occupied by the future representatives. A convention
was afterwards to be held, at which three persons nominated by
each Synod and six doctors of the Universities were to be pre-
sent. It was only, however, in the improbable case of the Con-
vention being unanimous on the points which were to be sub-
mitted to it, that its decision was to be final in settling the
1598 THE CLERICAL VOTE IN PARLIAMENT. 73
position of the representatives of the Church. It differences
of opinion arose, a report was to be made to the next General
Assembly, which would itself take the matter in hand.
Accordingly the Convention met at Falkland on July 25,
and decided that the representatives should be nominated by
the King out of a list of six, which was to be sub-
vention at mitted to him by the Church upon each vacancy.
The representative, when chosen, was to be respon-
sible for his actions to the General Assembly, and was to propose
nothing in Parliament for which he had not the express warrant
of the Church. ' As, however, the meeting was not unanimous,
the final decision was left to the next General Assembly.
It is obvious that this scheme was entirely different from
that which had been proposed by the Parliament. What the
Convention had agreed upon was the admission of a body of
men into Parliament who would be able to keep in check the
temporal lords. What the Parliament had consented to was
the admission of men who would assist the Crown and the
nobility in keeping in check the clergy. Between these two
plans James was now called upon to decide. As far as we can
judge, he had hitherto been in earnest in his declarations that
he had no wish to re-establish Episcopacy. He was at no time
able to keep a secret long, and, if he had been acting hypocri-
tically, his real sentiments would have been certain to ooze out
in one quarter or another.2 Put, however this may have been,
1 Calcbrwood, vi. 17.
2 There is no direct evidence on one side or the other. But the
frequency with which James's design of establishing the bishops is gpokl D
of by Nicolson in his despatches to the English Government in the course
of the following year, warrants us in founding upon his silence at an
earlier period a itrong presumption that there was no such design formed
up to the autumn of 1598. The following passage in a letter written when
the subject was before Parliament in 1597 is interesting : " The same day
the articles given by the Kirk was dealt in again. The King o med
willing to have yielded them contentment, and so they acknowledge it in
the pulpit and otherways. But the Council was against them, saying, if
they should have place in Parliament and Council, it wen meet for the
King's honour that they had the title of lome degree by the name of some
degree of prelacy, and so they should be of more estimation with the
74 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, en. II.
he certainly had not taken all this trouble in order to introduce
fifty-one delegates of the General Assembly within the walls of
Parliament What he wanted was a body of men who would
Live weight to the decisions of Parliament in dealing with the
cases in which there had hitherto been a conflict between the
two jurisdictions ; and it is no wonder that he thought that he
could have attained his end, if a certain number of representa-
tives had been elected for life. As far as we can be justified in
ascribing to James any definite plan at all, it is probable that
he expected that the Parliament, thus reinforced, would support
him in the maintenance of his jurisdiction in all external matters,
whilst all purely ecclesiastical affairs would be left, as before, to
the General Assembly.
The best thing James could have done would have been to
throw up the whole scheme, and to wait for better days. The
distrust existing between the nobility and the clergy,
of restoring and the little confidence with which he was regarded
by the ministers, rendered his conciliatory proposal
incapable of being carried out. It was certain that the scheme
of the convention would never be accepted by Parliament, and
even if it h id been accepted, it would probably have been
impossible to reduce it to working order. The time might
come when a wise and firm Government might be able to
r< ome the difficulties by which the double representation of
the nation was encumbered ; but that time had not yet arrived.
Nor was it likely that James would do anything to anticipate
such a time. He became more and more enamoured of the
measure which had been proposed by the Parliament, and he
felt an increasing desire for the re-establishment of Episcopacy
people, saying that when the Queen of England called any to be of her
ncil for their wisdom, she honoured them with the title of Knight or
other degree, and without some degree of prelacy or other it was not meet
they should have place in his Council, thereby thinking the ministers would
not receive title and place thereby. But the King, seeing the lords wo
not otherwise agree unto their motion, willed them not to refuse it, pro-
ing to find a myd " [? middle or compromise] "for them therein.
Wherein they retain the matter to their choice until they may advise with the
General Assembly."- Nicolson to Cecil, Dec. 23, 1597, S. J'. Scot!, lxi. 65.
1593 EPISCOPACY TO BE INTRODUCED. 75
as the only possible means of bringing the clergy to submit to
his own authority. With Episcopacy as an ecclesiastical institu-
tion, he had, at least as yet, no sympathy whatever. He
regarded it simply as a device for keeping the clergy in order,
and he did not see that by the very fact of his clothing the
officials who were appointed by him for this purpose with an
ecclesiastical title, he was preparing for himself a temptation
which would soon lead him to interfere with those strictly
ecclesiastical matters which were beyond his province. He had
hitherto been in pursuit of an object which was at least worthy
of the efforts of a statesman. He was now entering upon a path
in which the wisest man could not avoid committing one
blunder after another.
It was in preparing the ' Basilicon Doron,' the work which
James drew up in the autumn of this year,1 for the instruction
of his son, and which, as he intended it to be kept
The • , , , ■ , , , , , •
silicon from public knowledge, may he supposed to contain
his real thoughts, that he first gave expression to his
opinions on this subject In this book he spoke clearly of
his wish to bridle the clergy, if possible, by the reintroduction
of Bishops into the Church. He was not likely to feel less
strongly in the following year, when he was again
irritated by a renewal of his old quarrel with Bruce
and the ministers of Edinburgh, respe< tin- the amount of
licence which was to be allowed to them in speaking of State
affairs in the pulpit At the same time, his own conduct wa
mkIi a^ to ijive rise to grave suspicions. Not only did the
sentiments expr< ied in the ' Basilicon Doron' become generally
known, when it was found impossible to keel) the existence of
the book any longer a secret, but he allowed himself to eng
in those intrigues with the Catholic Towers of Europe, in the
hope of obtaining their support at the death ol Elizabeth, w 1 m < h
afterwards gave rise to io much scandaL Seton, the President
of the Session, and h.lphinstone, who had lately bec< me Si 1
tary in the place ot Lind ay of Balcarres, were known to be
1 The earliest mention of the hook i- probably in tin- undated advii
from Nicolson ascribed l>y Mr. Thorpe to Oct. 150' /'. Scotl.
Ixiii. 50.
76 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, ch. n.
Catholics. Montrose, who had long befriended the northern
Earls, was appointed Chancellor, and Huntly himself was con-
stantly seen at Court, and was raised to the dignity of a
Marquis, an honour which was by no means counterbalanced in
the eyes of the clergy by the gift of a similar title to the Protes-
tant Hamilton.
Towards the end of 1599, James determined to make a last
attempt to change the purpose of the ministers. The Assembly
Conference was t0 meet at Montrose in March, but he thought
at Hoiyrood. that uefore he presented himself before it, it would be
well to summon a conference of the principal ministers to meet
him at Hoiyrood in the preceding November. It was in vain,
however, that he did his best to induce them to agree to the
appointment of representatives for life, and to his proposal that
these representatives should bear the title of Bishops.1 When
the Assembly met at Montrose, no better success
Awmbiy at attended his efforts. It was there decided, that the
representatives of the Assembly who were to vote
in Parliament should only hold their position for a year, and
that they were to be tied down by such a body of restrictions
that it would be impossible for them to be anything else than
the obedient servants of the Assembly.
James had thus brought himself into a position from which
it was difficult to extricate himself with dignity. He must
either assent to the nomination of representatives who
Appoint- , , 1 ■ , ,
mem of would never be permitted to vote, or he must appoint
bishops who, unless he could contrive to impose them
by force upon the unwilling Church, would not be allowed to
exercise any jurisdiction whatever. Under these circumstances,
everything combined to lead him to choose the alternative
which was offered by the Parliament. It was not, however,
till after the strange incident of the Gowrie Plot had brought
him once more into collision with the ministers who refused
to believe his explanation of that mysterious occurence, that
he made up his mind to take the final step. On October 14
1600, he summoned a Convention of Commissioners from the
various synods, whose consent he obtained to the appointment
1 Caldei-wood, v. 746.
i6oo BISHOPS IN PARLIAMENT. 77
of three Bishops in addition to the few who were still surviving
from amongst those who had been formerly nominated. These
Bishops took their seats, and voted in the Parliament which
met in November,1 but they had no place whatever assigned
to them in the organization of the Church. The exact part
taken by the Convention in this nomination is uncertain ; but it
is clear that, as it was not a General Assembly, it had no right
to act in the name of the Church. The rank, therefore, of
these new Bishops cannot be regarded as anything more than
that which could be derived from a civil appointment by the
Crown, which was covered over by the participation of a few
ministers who were altogether unauthorised to deal with the
matter. The whole of the labours and intrigues of the last
three years had been thrown away, and James had done nothing
more than he might have done immediately upon the passing
of the Act of Parliament in 1597. 2
The position which James had thus taken up towards the
Scottish Presbyterians, was likely to affect his conduct when
The English ne came to deal with the English Puritans. For the
Succession. present James's attention was drawn aside to the work
of making good his claim to the English throne. For some
years Englishmen had been looking forward with anxiety to
1 Calderwood represents them as being chosen l>y 'the King with
his Commissioners and the ministers there convened.' Nicolson writes :
"According to my last, the King laboured the erecting of the Bishops
exceeding 1 rne tly; yet for that the same was to be done with general
allowance of the Kirk, he directed the Lord President, Secretary, and
others to confer with the Commissioners ol the Kirk, who, Btanding upon
what was set down at the General Assembly last at Montrose, the King
not pleased therewith, nor with the coldness of the estates therein, gol it
consented unto that the three new Bisho] should have vote with
the prelates, and 10 they bad it this day, leaving theii further authoi
to the next General Assembly." .'■ to Cecil, Nov. 15, 1600, S, /'.
Scotl. lxvi. 96.
- Writers frequently speak of the King's Bi hops as if they were in
some way connected with I ointmenl of representativi ited to
by t he Assembly of Montrose. Su< h, however, is evidently not the i
They derived their title simply from tie Ait ..f Parliament and the pre*
rogative of tie- Crown. At the Assembly which met at Burntisland in
1601, there seems to have been no reference to the Bishops on either side.
78 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, en. n.
the death of Elizabeth, and had prognosticated that it would be
followed by internal convulsions, if not by a foreign invasion.
Curious persons reckoned up a list of fourteen claimants to the
Crown,1 not one of whom could show a title perfectly free from
objection. Of these, however, the greater number must have
known that they had no chance even of obtaining a hearing,
deriving their claims, as they did, from sovereigns who reigned
before Henry VII., and thus ignoring the rights of the House
of Tudor. The only one of these whose claim had been
Title of the prominently brought forward was Isabella, the eldest
infanta; daughter of Philip II. of Spain. Those who asked
that a Spanish princess should wear the crown of Elizabeth,
urged that she was descended from a daughter of William the
Conqueror, from a daughter of Henry II., and from a daughter
of Henry III. They also brought forward the fact that her
ancestor, Louis VIII. of France, had been chosen to the throne
of England, and they argued that his descendants had a right
to occupy the throne in preference to the descendants of John.2
Such reasoning was by no means conclusive, and the support
of her title by the more violent Catholics was not likely to con-
ciliate the nation in her behalf.
In fact the only doubt which would by any possibility be
raised was, whether the succession would fall to the House of
Suffolk, or to the House of Stuart.
The Parliamentary title was undoubtedly vested in the
Suffolk line. By an Act of Parliament, Henry VIII. had been
empowered to dispose of the succession by will ; and
ofthes'uf- he had directed that, after his own children and
folk line ; ^q\x issue, the Lady Frances, the eldest daughter of
his sister Mary, Duchess of Suffolk, should succeed. Failing
her and her children, her place was to be taken by her sister
Eleanor. After the death of Lady Jane Gray, who was the eldest
daughter of the Lady Frances, the claims of the elder branch
of the Suffolk line were represented by Lady Jane's next sister,
Catherine. If Elizabeth had died before 1587, there can be
1 Introduction to the Corresponded of James VI. with Sir R. Cecil.
2 Doieman (Persons), Conference on the Succession, 151.
1601 THE ENGLISH SUCCESSION. 79
little doubt that Catherine Gray, or one of her family,1 would
have succeeded her. As long as the Queen of Scots was alive,
the reasons which had determined the nation to support
Henry VIII. in excluding the House of Stuart were still of im-
portance. With the execution of Mary all these objections fell
to the ground. There was now no sufficient cause for tamper-
andofthe mg with the ordinary rule of hereditary succession.
Stuart line, jf parliament had been allowed to follow its own
wishes, an Act would undoubtedly have been passed securing
the succession to James, who was the representative of his great-
grandmother Margaret, the eldest daughter of Henry VII. But
the prejudices of the Queen stood in the way. She was de-
termined that in her lifetime no one should be able to call him-
self her heir. But that when, in the course of nature, she should
be removed from the throne, James would be acceptable, with
scarcely an exception, to the whole English nation, was unde-
niable. The desire to return to the regular course was cer-
tainly strengthened by the position in which the Suffolk family
stood at the end of Elizabeths reign. There were doubts as to
the validity of the marriage of Catherine Gray with the Earl of
I Iertford, and, consequently, of the legitimacy of his eldest son,
Eord Beauchamp. If the marriage should be hereafter proved
to he invalid, Lord Beaui lump's claim would be worthless ; if,
on the other hand, if should he proved to he valid, the claim
of any representative of the younger brain h of the Suffolk line-
would be equally worthless.
If the Parliamentary title were discarded, the claim of James
was certain to prevail. Lawyers indeed had been found who
Argument! ''•"' discovered that his cousin, Arabella Stuart,
™rof who v..- al 10 des< 1 tided from Margaret, the sister of
Stuart Henry VIII., had a better title, as she had been
bom in England, whereas James had been born in Scotland.
It was a maxim of the English law, they argued, that no
alien could inherit land in England. If, therefore, James
was incapable Of inheriting an acre of land south ol the
Tweed, he was still more incapable of inheriting the whole
realm. A few of the more moderate Catholics would have
welcomed the accession of Arabella, as the)- thought it more
1 She herself died in 1567.
So CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, ch. n.
likely that they would obtain toleration from her than from a
King who had been nursed in the Presbyterian Church of
Scotland ; but with this exception, these crotchets of the law-
yers met with no response in the nation.
The only obstacle which was likely to oppose itself to the
realisation of the wishes of the people arose from the character
James too of James himself. For some years he was unable to
raUerat0rarty believe that he could obtain the object of his desires
in England. without some superhuman effort of his own. He was
bent upon getting together a party who would support his claims
when the day of trial came. He intrigued with Essex, with
Mountjoy, and even with the rebel Tyrone.1 If he did not con-
sent to head an army for the invasion of England, he at all events
gave no decided refusal when the proposal was made to him.
Many of his counsellors and associates in Scotland had been
anxious to embark him on a still more dangerous course. The
The Catholic Catholics about him wished him to become King of
intrigue. England with the assistance of the Pope, to grant
liberty of conscience to the Catholics of both kingdoms, and to
set Presbyterians and Puritans at defiance.2 They were anxious
to engage him in a correspondence with the Pope himself. In
1599, a certain Edward Drummond was about to proceed to
Rome. James consented to entrust him with letters addressed
to the Duke of Florence, the Duke of Savoy, and some of
the Cardinals, asking them to support the appointment of the
Bishop of Yaison — a Scotchman, named Chisholm — to the
Cardinalate, who was expected to watch over the interests
of James at Rome. But James resolutely refused to write
1 This letter to Tyrone is among the Lansd. AISS., lxxxiv. fol. 79 a.
Tyrone's answer is in the S. /'. Scotl. lxvi. 28. The whole subject of the
relations between James and the English parties is treated of at some
length by Mr. I5ruce in his introduction to the Correspondence of James VI.
with Sir R. Cecil. These letters add one or two new facts to the history,
but their chief value consists in the light which they throw upon the cha-
racter of Cecil. Nothing can be more instructive than the contrast between
the tone of these letters and those of Lord Henry Howard, which have so
often, in spite of repeated protests, been taken to represent Cecil's feelings
as well as his policy.
1 Gray to Salisbury, Oct. 3, 1608. Hatfield MSS. exxvi. fol. 59,
1602 THE LETTER TO THE POPE. 81
to the Pope himself, net because he had any scruple about
negotiating with him, but because he objected to address him as
'Holy Father.' Elphinstone, the Secretary of State,
titious letter urged on by men higher in authority than him-
ope- self, persuaded Drummond to draw up a letter to the
Pope asking for the Bishop's appointment and explaining that
the bearer was directed to say that James had no intention of
persecuting the Catholics. Elphinstone slipped this letter in
amongst the others which were awaiting James's signature as he
was going out hunting, and had the titles added afterwards by
Drummond. Some time later, information that this letter had
been delivered in Rome reached Queen Elizabeth, and she
directed her ambassador to remonstrate with James. James
summoned Elphinstone to bear witness that no such letter had
been sent, and Elphinstone not only avowed his ignorance of
the letter, but persuaded Drummond on his return from Rome
to support him in his falsehood.1
1 Elphinstone was subsequently created Lord Balmerino. In 1608
the whole story came out. The narrative as given above is taken from
his letter to the King, Oct. 21, 1608 {Hatfield MSS., exxvi. fol. 67), and
from his relation in Calderwood, v. 740. My reasons for believing it will
be given when I come to deal with I'.almerino's trial. In the meanwhile
the following extract from a letter of the Jesuit Creichton will serve to put
James's conduct in a clear light : " As touching the President's" (i.e.
Balmerino's) " confession to have enl the despatch to Pope and Cardinals
without His Majesty's COH oinmandmcnt, I will not niell me with
that, nor anything what it may merit. Bui I assisted Mr. Edward
Drummond in all that negotiation (thinking it to be to the King's weal
and service) and communication of all the letters that were brought for
that affair, I thought it ex| • inform you of the verity of all. There
was nothing wrought in that negotiation which was not thought toin for
the King's Majesty's service, which was t.> procure the Bishop of \ aison's
advancement to the degree of Cardinal, to the end thai Hi M Id
have in the College of Cardinals one ol his true and faithful su
advance His Majesty's service, and dash and stop that which might be
to his prejudice ; and specially thai they should not excommu/iii it< His
, or absolve his subjects from their obedience, as there v.
at that time busy to procure it. . . . It was not (riven to understand to the
Pope that the King's M 1 ty was in any dis] I 01
favour the Catholic religion, for the contrary was contained expressly in
the letters, . . . saying that, albeit he remained constant in that religion
VOL. I. G
82 CHURCH AND STATE IN SCOTLAND, ch. n.
There is no difficulty in learning what James thought at
this time on the subject of the toleration of the Catholics. In
a letter written before his accession to the English throne, he
expressed himself precisely as he afterwards did to his
opinion on first English Parliament, that he was unwilling that
the blood of any man should be shed for diversity of
opinion in religion, but that he was also unwilling that the
Catholics should become sufficiently numerous to oppress the
Protestants. He would be glad that priests and Jesuits should
be banished, and that all further spread of the religion might
thus quickly be put a stop to without persecution.1
Such an idea was not very practical, but it was at least
the expression of a desire to escape from that miserable intoler-
ance with which Europe in every corner was defiled.
In his effort to bring into existence a better order of society,
James would receive no help from Elizabeth's ministers. In
their opinion, the only reasonable way of dealing with
Fatness' Catholics was to keep them down, the laity by fine and
s<cred Cn°cT" imprisonment, and the clergy by the gallows. There
was one amongst them, Sir Robert Cecil, who could
teach James that the way to the throne of England
did not lie in a secret understanding with the Catholics. Cecil
had been, since his father Burghley's death, the leading states-
man in Elizabeth's Government. He was in the enjoyment of
the full confidence of his sovereign, and had been entrusted by
her with the responsible office of Secretary. He saw clearly
that it was necessary for England that James should succeed
Elizabeth, and he saw also that James must be kept quiet, if he
in which he was nourished from his cradle, yet he would not be enemy
or persecutor of the Catholics so long as they should remain faithful and
obedient subjects unto him. As, indeed, His Majesty had ever done,
until the horrible and barbarous conspiracy of the Gunpowder. For in
Scotland, to them of our order who are holden the most odious, and perse-
cuted to the death by the ministers, he did never use more rigour nor to
banish them out of the country, and constrain their parents to oblige them
under pain to cause them to depart." — W. Creichton to Sir A. Murray,
Jan. 27, 1609; Botfield's Original Letters relating to Ecclesiastical Affairs,
i. 1S0.
1 Correspondence of James VI. with Sir R. Cecil, p. 36.
l6o3 JAMES SUPPORTED BY CECIL. 83
were not to throw his chance away. He therefore took advan-
tage of the presence of a Scottish embassy in London, to let
James know that he was devoted to his service. A corre-
spondence sprang up, which was kept secret from the Queen, in
which he impressed on James the necessity of avoiding any-
thing like impatience, and assured him that he would answer
for his ultimate success. James, who had been prejudiced
against Cecil by Essex, and had been led to believe that the
Secretary favoured the title of the Infanta, was overjoyed to
find that he had gained such a supporter, and submitted for
the remainder of Elizabeth's life to be guided by his counsels.
This prudent conduct eventually found its reward. When the
time came, James was welcomed from Berwick to the Land's
End, with scarcely a dissentient voice.
84
CHAPTER III.
JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS.
On March 24, within a few hours ' after the death of the
Queen, a meeting was held at Whitehall. The Privy Coun-
,6o3. cillors had hastened in from Richmond, and sum-
Mareh 24. monses had been issued requesting the attendance
Whitehall, of the Peers who were in London at the time,
with that of the Lord Mayor, and of a few other persons of
note.
As soon as those who had been invited had assembled, a
proclamation was produced, which had been composed by
Cecil in anticipation of the death of Elizabeth. A
tion^ copy of it had already been sent to Scotland, and
had received the approval of James.2 After some dis-
cussion it was agreed to, and at ten o'clock the whole of the
councillors and nobility present went out before the palace-
gate, where the proclamation which announced the peaceable
accession of James I. was read by Cecil himself in the presence
of a large concourse of people.3 The ceremony was repeated
in the City. The countenances of all who witnessed it testified
their satisfaction with the step which had been taken. During
the time of the Queen's illness watch and ward had been kept
in the City. Wealthy men had brought in their plate and
' Add. MSS., 17%, fol. 5 h.
2 Bruce, Correspondence of King James VI. of Scotland with Sir R.
Cecil and others ', 47.
lumont to the King of France, M^ a6' 1603. King's MSS.,
123, fol. 18 b.
1603 JAMES ACKNOWLEDGED IN ENGLAND. 85
treasure from the country, and had put them in places of
security. Ships of war had been stationed in the Straits of
Dover to guard against a foreign invasion ; and some of the
piincipal recusants had, as a matter of precaution, been com-
mitted to safe custody. All the apprehensions with which
men's minds had been filled were now at an end. The citizens
showed their confidence in the Government by putting up their
weapons, and returning to their several occupations. All over
England the proclamation met with a similar reception. If ever
there was an act in which the nation was unanimous, it was the
welcome with which the accession of the new Sovereign was
greeted.
On the day after the proclamation had been issued, Thomas
Somerset and Sir Charles Percy were despatched to Edinburgh
by the Council to inform the King of all that had
^j;Sns' passed. It was probably on the following day that a
oftheCoun- scene took place which, a century earlier, would have
Cll alter the ' J
been of some importance. The Earl of Northumber-
land was a man of considerable learning and ability,
but hot-headed and impatient of control. A few days before
the Queen's death he had been requested, together with Lord
1 obhamand Lord Thomas Howard, to take part in the delibera-
tions of the Coun< il. He had appeared at the head of more
than a hundred men, had talked loudly of the necessity of
acknov^ 1. mies, ami had d< 1 lari d that he was ready to
put to death anyone who was proposed in opposition to him.'
He now stepped forward in defence of the privileges of the old
nobility. He had heard that the Privy Councillors had met
at the Earl Of Nottifl . in order to take measures for
removing the Queen's body to London. He thought this
a good opportunity to remind them that, in consequence ol
the death of the Queen, the}' had 1 -.1 led i" 0( < upy any oll'n ial
it ion, until they were confirmed in their places by the new
King. He told them that the peerage had ton long been
• Bodcrii- to Villeroi, • "T 7' ' 1606, A» , i. iSr. In an account
July 6,
which he gave of I ir&nce at the I !oun< il to the King (<"
of James VI. with Sir R. Cecil, p. 73) Northumberland ••ays nothing of
this.
86 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. III.
treated with contempt, and that they were determined to sub-
mit to it no longer. Sir Thomas Egerton, the Lord Keeper,
with admirable self-control, at once admitted that his authority
ceased with the death of the Queen, and proposed that he, and
all the Councillors who were not members of the Upper House,
should resign to the Lords their seats at the head of the table.
The peers who were present would not hear of this proposal,
and everything went on as usual. x
As may be imagined, the Councillors were not anxious to
prolong this uncertain position of affairs, and messengers were
again despatched to the King begging him to estab-
Order0 lish some settled government. Practically no harm
prevails. wag done The French ambassador was struck, as
his countrymen have often been on similar occasions, with the
ready obedience which was paid to authorities who held power
by so uncertain a tenure. Even in those days the long exercise
of the duties and privileges of self-government enabled English-
men to pass through a political crisis with a calmness which ap-
peared almost miraculous in the eyes of a foreigner. On April 5,
however, the crisis was at an end. The Government was able to
inform the people that letters had been received from the King,
confirming all officers in their places till his arrival in England.
The two gentlemen who had been selected by the Council
were not the first to carry the great news to Edinburgh. A
certain George Marshall was probably the first to
JakJhhePey bear the hnformati°n to James.3 Sir Robert Carey
first news too fad slipped away as soon as he was certain of the
en'i Queen's death, having previously taken the precau-
tion of placing post-horses along the road. He
hoped to reap a rich reward by being the bearer of the news
that his benefactress was no longer able to do him offices of
kindness. He was probably, however, anticipated by Marshall,
1 I suppose this to be as accurate an account as can be obtained from
the conflicting statements contained in Add. MSS. 1786, fol. 5 b; 718,
foL 34 b, and Beaumont to the King of France, —^m **' 1603 (King';
MSS. 123, fol. 29 b). The scene certainly took place before the 26th,
when the Queen's body was actually removed.
« Marshall to Salisbury, Jan. 4, 1610. Hatfield MSS. 195, fol. 95.
1603 JAMES ARRIVES IN ENGLAND. 87
and it is satisfactory to know that, although he was taken into
favour by James, the rewards which he received were, in his
own estimation, an inadequate remuneration of the service
which he rendered on this important occasion.1
On April 5, the new Sovereign set out from Edinburgh.
The impression which he created was on the whole favourable.
April 5. Of his deeper characteristics, nothing could as yet be
out"fromtS known. His personal appearance was in his favour.
Edinburgh. He was somewhat above the middle height, fair-com-
plexioned, fond of active exercises, especially in the hunting-
field, and well pleased to throw ceremonyaside with those whom
he admitted to his intimacy.2 His moral habits were praise-
worthy. He was faithful and affectionate to his wife, Anne of
Denmark, though her levity must often have annoyed him, and
though he was certainly not abstemious, he was never intoxi-
cated.3
James did not arrive in the neighbourhood of London till
May 3. He must have thought that he had entered upon the
government of El Dorado. Every nobleman and gentleman
kept open house as he passed. He spent his time in festivities
and amusements of various kinds. The gentry of the counties
through which his journey lay thronged in to see him. Most of
them returned home decorated with the honours of knighthood,
a title which he dispensed with a profusion which astonished
those who remembered the sober days of Elizabeth. One act
of his gave rise to no friendly comments. At Newark he or-
dained that a cutpurse, who was taken in the crowd, should ;ii
once be hanged without form of trial. As he never repeated
* Memoirs of Sir R. Carey, ]>. 180.
2 Tin: <1'M riptiona of Jame ■ aa weak in body, and unable i" -it ;t li u i
without falling off, oodoubl apply to him only later in life. " II Re," writes
one who saw him at this time, "edi Faccia bella, nobile, e giovale; « 1 i
c"l"r biano, pelo aaaai biondo, barba quadra e lunghetta, bocca piccola,
occhi azzurri, 1 iutto e profilato, uomo allegro, ne gi
di vita ben fatta, piu tosto grande che piccolo." Degli Effetti to Del
Bufalo, June ' ', Roman Transcripts, R. O.
3 The e\ 1 J bia physician, sir T, Mayerne (in Ellis, ser. 2, iii.
1 is decisive on t li i -> point. lie drank great quantities of not very
strong wine, and his head was never affected l>y it.
S3 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. ch. in.
this mistake, it may be supposed that he was warned by his
councillors that he could not violate with impunity the first
principles of English law.
The number of those who were flocking northwards gave
some uneasiness to the Councillors. To the proclamation in
which they announced that the K ing had confirmed them in their
offices they added a paragraph forbidding general resort to the
new Sovereign. It may reasonably be supposed that they had
other motives than a desire to save the northern counties from
the crowds which threatened to devour all their resources.1 It
is not strange that the men who had possessed the confidence
of the late Queen, and who had skilfully held the reins of
government during the critical times which were now happily at
an end, should have been anxious to be the first to give an
account of their stewardship to their new master. A day or
two after the issue of the proclamation they put a stop to the
journey of the man whom above all others they were desirous
sir waiter °f keeping at a distance from the King. Sir Walter
Raleigh. Raleigh was setting out at the head of a large body
of suitors when he received an order to relinquish his intention.
It is difficult for us at this distance of time to realise the
feelings with which Raleigh was regarded by the great mass of
his contemporaries. To us he is the man who had more genius
than all the Privy Council put together. At the first mention
of his name, there rises up before us the remembrance of the
active mind, the meditative head, and the bold heart, which
have stamped themselves indelibly upon the pages of the history
of two continents. Above all, we think of him as the victim of
oppression, sobered down by the patient endurance of an un-
deserved imprisonment, and as finally passing into his bloody
grave, struck down by an unjust sentence. To the greater
number of the men amongst whom he moved, he was simply
the most unpopular man in England. Here and there were to
be found a few who knew his worth. Those who had served
under him, like his faithful Captain Keymis, and those who,
like Sir John Harington, merely met him occasionally in social
1 Cecil and Kinloss to Lord II. Howard, April g LS. P. Dom. i. 16).
1603 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 89
intercourse, knew well what the loyal heart of the man really
was. But by the multitude, whom he despised, and by the
grave statesmen and showy courtiers with whom he jostled for
Elizabeth's favour, he was regarded as an insolent and unprin-
cipled wretch, who feared neither God nor man, and who
would shrink from no crime if he could thereby satisfy
his ambitious desires. There can be no doubt that these
charges, frivolous as they must seem to those who know what
Raleigh's true nature was, had some basis in his character.
Looking down as he did from the eminence of genius upon the
actions of lesser men, he was too apt to treat them with the
arrogance and scorn which they seldom deserved, and which it
was certain that they would resent.1
In the latter years of Elizabeth's reign his heart had been
set upon becoming a Privy Councillor. Elizabeth was deter-
mined that he should not have the object of his wishes. She
was glad to have him at hand, knowing as she did the value
of his counsel in times of danger, and that there were many
services for which it was impossible to find a fitter man ; but,
at a time when she was herself anxious for peace, she would
not trust in the council chamber a man whose voice was still
for war.
1 Northumberland's testimony is worth quoting, as lie was by no means
likely to invent stories against Raleigh : " I must needs affirm Raleigh's
ever allowance of your right, and although I know him insolent, extremely
healed, a man thai desires to seem to he able to sway all men's courses
and a man that out of himself, when your time shall come, shall never be
able to do you much good nor harm, yet must I needs confess what I
know, thai there is excellent good parts of nature in him, a man who
i, disadvantageous to me in some sort, which I cherish rathei out of
tancy than policy, and one whom I wish your Majesty nol to lose,
I would nol thai one hair of a man's head should be BgainSl you
that might be for you." Northumberland to James, Correspondent of
James VI. with Sir /•'. Cecil, p. 67.
A much I ccounl of him is given in Sloant MSS. 7 1 s. Bui the
mo, t striking evidence i, contained in a despatch ol Beaumont's to -the
French King, — 1603 [King' MSS. 123, fol. 94 b): "It was said at
Court," he write,, " thai ' t'il had procured Rali race, because he
was unable to support the weight of his unpopularity." The story is
absurd, but '.hat it should have been invented is significant.
go J A MRS I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. ill.
He, too, turned with hope to the rising sun. Like all true-
hearted Englishmen, he saw that the accession of James was
indispensable to the safety of the country, and he trusted to
find his account in the change. As it was, he must have beer
miserable enough ; he had not a single friend with whom he
could co-operate upon ecmal terms. Northumberland shared
his counsels, but refrained from giving him his confidence
The poor mean-spirited Lord Cobham seemed to be the only
human being, with the exception of those who were depen-
dent upon him, who attached himself to him at all. Hi
tried to take Cecil into his confidence, and to share his
schemes for the furtherance of James's prospects, but Cecil
preferred to keep his secrets to himself, and warned him off
with a few polite sentences, telling him that he, for one, had
no intention of looking forward to such an event as his mis-
tress's death.1
With, all his good qualities, and they were many, Cecil was
not the man to comprehend Raleigh. Himself without a spark
sir Robert °f true genius, he was not likely to be able to detect
Cccli- it in others. To his orderly and systematic mind,
Raleigh was a self-seeking adventurer, and Bacon an imagina-
tive dreamer. He could no more understand the thoughts
which filled their minds, than he could understand why the
Catholics ought to be tolerated, or why the Puritan clergy
ought to be allowed to break through the established rules of
the Church. His ideas on all important subjects were the ideas
which had been prevalent at the Court of Elizabeth at the time
when he first grew up to manhood under his father's care. In
all the numerous speeches which he delivered, and in all letters
which have come down to us written by his hand, it is impos-
sible to detect a single original idea. Nor was he more success-
ful in action. Other men of less ability have left their mark
upon the history of the constitution. No important measure,
no constitutional improvement, connects itself with the name
1 Cecil to James, Correspondence of James VI. with Sir K. Cecil, p. 18.
This is the only passage in which he mentions Raleigh. It is not compli-
mentary ; but it is very different from the constant abuse of him by Lord
II. Howard.
i6o3 SIX KOBE XT CECIL. 91
of Robert Cecil. As Bacon said of him, he was magis in opera-
tione quant in opere.
It was not altogether his own fault. His education had been
against him. Like the Emperors who were born in the purple,
he was unfortunately looked upon from his childhood as an
hereditary statesman. He had never known what it was to be
in opposition. He had never had the inestimable advantage of
mixing with his countrymen as one who was unconnected with
official position and official men. He was the first and greatest
of that unhappy race of statesmen who were trained for their
work as for a profession. If he had, like his father, known a
time when the government had been conducted on principles
which he detested, he might have risen into a clearer knowledge
of the wants of the nation which he was called to guide. Even
as it was, he never sank to the level of the Nauntons and the
Windebanks, who were to follow.
James did not hesitate for a moment where to place his
confidence. In after years he was in the habit of congratulating
himself that he had not imitated Rehoboam in displacing the
counsellors of his predecessor, and of those counsellors there
was none to whom he owed SO dee]) a debt of gratitude as he
did to Cecil. His first thought on receiving intelligence of the
Queen's death, was to express his thanks to Cecil for his care-
ful attention to his interests. " How happy 1 think myself," he
mote, " bythe conquest of so faithful and so wise a counsellor,
I reserve it to 1"' e ■ cpn iSed OUt of my own mouth unto you." '
confidence which James thus bestowed was never with-
drawn as long .1 ; Cecil lived.
Although the sphere of his vision was limited, within that
sphere he was unrivalled by the statesmen of his day. As an
administrator, he was unequalled for patient industry, and for
the calm good sense with which he came to his conclusions.
If he clung to office with t> :na< nv, and if he regarded with un-
due SUSpil ion those who were likely to he his rival,, he was no
mere ambitious aspirant foi place, to clutch at all posts the
duties of which he was unwilling or unable to perform. 'I he
1 The King to Cecil, March 27. Hatfield J/.S'.S"., exxxiv. 28.
92 JAMES I AND THE CATHOLICS. ch. in.
labours which he underwent were enormous. As Secretary, he
had to conduct the whole of the civil administration of the
kingdom, to keep his eye upon the plots and conspiracies which
were bursting out in every direction, to correspond with the Irish
Government and to control its policy, and to carry on through
the various ambassadors complicated negotiations with every
State of importance in Europe. Besides all this, when Parlia-
ment was sitting, it was on him that the duty chiefly devolved
of making the policy of the Government palatable to the House
of Commons, of replying to all objections, and of obtaining the
King's consent to the necessary alterations. As if all this were
not enough, during the last few years of his life he undertook
the office of Treasurer in addition to that of Secretary. Upon
him fell all the burden of the attempt which he made to restore
to a sound condition the disordered finances, and of mastering
the numerous details from which alone he could obtain the
knowledge necessary in order to remedy the evil.
To this unflagging industry he added the no less valuable
quality of unfailing courtesy. Nothing ever seemed to ruffle his
temper. When the great financial scheme for which he had
laboured so long, and over which he had spent so many weary
hours, was definitely wrecked, he said no more than that he
thought the Lord had not blessed it. He was one of those
who never willingly wounded the feelings of any man, and who
never treated great or small with insolence.1
Although there are circumstances in his life which tell
against him, it is difficult to read the whole of the letters and
documents which have come down to us from his pen, without
becoming gradually convinced of his honesty of intention. It
cannot be denied that he was satisfied with the ordinary morality
of his time, and that he thought it no shame to keep a state
secret or to discover a plot by means of a falsehood. If he
grasped at power as one who took pleasure in the exercise of
it, he used it for what he regarded as the true interests of his
king and country.
1 The Exam, of Sir F. Hastings, Feb. 1605, S. P. Dom. xii. 74
is admirably fitted for giving an idea of the characters of Cecil, Howard,
and Egerton.
1603 LORD HENRY HOWARD. 9;
Nor are we left to his own acts and words as the only means
by which we are enabled to form a judgment of his character. Of
all the statesmen of the day, not one has left a more blameless
character than the Earl of Dorset. Dorset took the opportunity
of leaving upon record in his will, which would not be read till
he had no longer injury or favour to expect in this world, the
very high admiration in which his colleague was held by him.
Of all the statesmen who fell from power during the same
period, it has been considered that none was more unjustly
treated than Northumberland, and of this injustice the full
weight has been laid upon Cecil's shoulders. Yet, a few months
after Northumberland was committed to the Tower, his brother,
Sir Alan Percy, declared his opinion in a private letter that the
removal of Cecil from the Council would be a blow by which
the position of the Earl would only be changed for the worse.1
When the order was issued for stopping Raleigh's journey,
Cecil probably thought that he had only done a justifiable act
[fcnry in keeping an unprincipled rival away from the Kin-.
Howard. ]>ut morc than this was necessary. It was important
that the Council should have someone by the King's side who
might act for them as occasion might arise. Eor this purp< se
they selected Lord Henry Howard.
Of all who gathered round the new King, this man was,
beyond all comparison, the most undeserving of the favours
which he received. He was a younger son of that Earl of
Surrey whose death had been the last of the series of executions
which marked the reign of Henry VIII. ; and his brother, the
Duke of Norfolk, had expiated upon the scaffold the trea n
which he had meditated for the sake of the fair face of the
en "i Scots. His nephew was that Earl of Arundel who
had died in the prison in which lie was confined by order of
Elizabeth, and who was reven need as a martyr by the English
Catholics, His religion was that which openly or ecretly had
1 the religion of his family. But with this he joined a
reverence for the royal pi .<■, which had certainly never
been felt by his kinsmen. I here were, indeed, men among the
1 Sir A. Perry to CarlctOD, Sept. 4, 1606, S. r. Do;;/, xxiii.
94 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. ch. m.
Catholic lords, such as the Earl of Worcester, whose loyalty
was unimpeached. But Howard would not be content with
the unobtrusive performance of duties with which these men
had been satisfied. In an age when what we should call the
grossest flattery was used as frequently as phrases of common
civility are by us, he easily bore away the palm for suppleness
and flattery. Long ago he had attached himself to James, and
he had been by him recommended to Cecil. It would be
curious to know how far the feeling with which Cecil regarded
Raleigh was owing to the influence of so worthless a companion.
Certain it is that Howard hated Raleigh with a perfect hatred,
and that Cecil's estrangement from that great man began about
the time when he was first brought into close communion with
Howard. Yet with all his faults, the man was no mere empty-
headed favourite. He was possessed of considerable abilities,
and of no small extent of learning. He took his share in the
duties of government with credit, but, as long as Cecil lived,
he was obliged to be content to play a secondary part.
A few days later Cecil himself went down to meet the King.
He had not been with him long before Raleigh learned that
he was not to retain his position as Captain of the
R^gh15' Guard. There can be little doubt that James was
dismissed guided in this step by Cecil and Howard. On the
Captaincy of other hand, it was natural enough that he should
the Guard. . r , . . , .
wish to see a post of such importance about his own
person in the hands of one of his countrymen. Raleigh him-
self was allowed to see the King at Burghley, where he probably
did his utmost to throw blame on his rivals. James, however,
paid little attention to his pleadings, and it was not long before
Raleigh received a formal announcement that the command
of the Guard was given to Sir Thomas Erskine, who had already
filled the same office in Scotland. Raleigh was compensated
for his loss by the remission ' of a payment of 300/. a year,
which had been charged upon his government of Jersey, and of
large arrears of debt which he owed to the Crown.2
' Cecil to Windebank, May 21, S. P. Dom. i. 93.
2 The existence of a memoir by Raleigh against Cecil rests upon a note
of Welwood's to Wilson's James I., in A'cnnet, ii. 663. He says he had
1603 SCOTCH AND ENGLISH. 95
Tne removal of Raleigh from the Captaincy of the Guard
was only one of the changes in favour of Scotchmen by which
in the early days of the new reign the court was
Quarrels agitated. As yet, however, it was a mere courtiers'
Scotch a»d question, in which the nation took little part. All
English. t^e gj.eat offices 0f State were still in the hands of
Englishmen. One Scotchman, indeed, Lord Kinloss, became
Master of the Rolls ; another, Sir George Hume, became
Chancellor of the Exchequer and Master of the Wardrobe.
But there, so far as public offices were concerned, the
promotions which fell to the share of James's countrymen
ceased. The seats which some of them received in the Privy
Council were, for the most part, little more than honorary,
and do not seem to have given them any great influence over
the conduct of affairs. It was as Gentlemen of the Bedchamber,
as Masters of the Harriers, and as holders of similar posts about
the King's person, that they provoked the wrath of Englishmen
seen a MS. of Buck, who was secretary to F.gerton, in which he mentions this
memorial. This evidence has not been thought by Raleigh's admirers to
be very good, hut it seems to be put beyond doubt by a passage in a de-
spatch of Beaumont toVilleroi,^"1"' 1603 [King's MSS. 123, fol. 94 b).
lb ,ays that Raleigh had been dismissed, ' dont le dite Sieur Ralle est en
unc telle furie, que partant pour aller trouver le Roy, il a protest^ de luy
declarer et faire voir par escrit tout la caballe, et les intelligent es qu'il dit
que le Sieur Cecil a drcssees el COnduittes a son prejudice.' Another
1 have less belief in. Osborne speaks of him, in common
with Cobham and I lie, as wishing, apparently before the proclama-
tion of the morning of March 24, 'to bind the King to articles ' which
in some way to be directed against the advancement of Scotchmen.
Thi, has been magnified into a constitutional opposition, which it certainly
was not, u the Count il had no constitutional power to bind the King, and
anything they might do would have been treat d by James as a dead letter,
[gh, too, does not seem to bav< been present, as his name doe not
appear among tho ..■ who igned the pro< lamation, though he was admitted
at a consultation in thi g, and signed the letter to the King, then
written [Spottiswoode, Spottiswoode Society's edition, hi. 133). Perl
the story is found) IgC HSed by Raleigh aft* 1 he was super-
seded by Erskine. Fortt icue also had to make room for SirGeorgi I dime
as Chancellor of the Exchequer, which would account fur the introdui lion
of his name.
96 JAMES I. AXD THE CATHOLICS. ch. in.
who aspired to these positions. It was not till the sums which
should have been applied to national purposes were squandered
upon favourites of both nations that the discontent became
general. Cecil did his best to put an end to these quarrels, but
he did not meet with much success.
The evils under which the English Catholics laboured were
of no ordinary description. In the first place, not only was all
Grievances public celebration of their worship interdicted, but
English tne mere fact of saying mass was sufficient to bring
Catholics. t^e priest under the penalties of treason, and those
penalties were extended to all who should assist or ' comfort
him,' as the law expressed it. As there were no Catholics who
had not at some time or another been present at a mass, the
power of the Government to send the whole number of them
ro execution was only limited by the difficulties of obtaining
evidence. If they failed in this, the Ecclesiastical Courts could
always issue an excommunication for simple recusancy, or
abstaining from attendance upon the Church by law established,
and upon this the Civil Courts were empowered to commit the
recusant to prison until he submitted. Of course, these harsh
measures were only very sparingly employed. But if the
penalty did not fall upon all who were threatened, it was kept
constantly hanging over their heads, and the Catholics were
always liable to arbitrary imprisonments and fines, of which
they did not dare to complain, as they were allowed to escape
without suffering the full penalty of the law.
lint, besides all this, there was a regular system of fines for
u-cusanry authorised by statute. In the first place, all recu-
The recu- sants who had sufficient property were liable to a fine
sancy fines. Qf 20/_ a month. Of those who were so liable at the
death of Elizabeth the number was only sixteen. Those who
could not pay such large sums forfeited, if the Government
chose to exact the penalty, two-thirds of their lands until
they conformed. This land was leased out by Commissioners
appointed by the Crown for the purpose, and the lessee paid a
certain rent into the Exchequer. There still remained another
mode of reaching those who had no lands to lose, as the goods
and chattels of any person convicted of recusancy might be
l6o2 THE ENGLISH CATHOLICS. 97
taken possession of by the Crown. Hard as this treatment
was, it was made worse by the misconduct of the constables
and pursuivants, whose business it was to search for the priests
who took refuge in the secret chambers which were always to be
found in the mansions of the Catholic gentry. These wretches,
under pretence of discovering the concealed fugitives, were in
the habit of wantonly destroying the furniture or of carrying off
valuable property. It was useless to complain, as there were
few, if any, Catholics who had not given the law a hold upon
them by the support given to their priests.
Under such an abominable system, it is no wonder that the
Catholics were anxious for any change which might improve
h .,0f their condition, and that they were hardly likely to
mentby* acquiesce in the doctrine that they were only punished
James. for treason, and not for religion. It was natural,
therefore, that both the Pope and the English Catholics should
look with hopefulness to the new reign. Both the declarations
which James had made, and the manner in which he had acted
in Scotland, made many of them expect to find a protector in
him.
As Elizabeth's reign drew to a close, Pope Clement VIII.,
in response to the letter which had been brought to him by
,. , I)rummond, and which he believed to have etna-
nated from James himself,1 thought of despatching
the Bishop of Vaison to Scotland.3 In order, how< ver,
to be thoroughly sure of his ground, he took advantage of a
visit which Sir James Lindsay,;1. Scottish Catholic, was pre-
paring to make to his native country, to sound James on his
in!' towards the Catholii ;. Lindsay brought with him a
complimentary letter from Clement to the King. He was also
dire' ted to a 1 iure Jam* 1 that the Pope was ready to thwart any
whi( !i might be entertained by the English Catholics in
opposition to his 1 laim to the throne, and to invite him, if he
would not himself forsake the Protestant faith, at least to allow
his eldest son to be educated in the ( latholic religion. If this
1 Sec p,
2 James to Elizabeth, Cot nee of Elizabeth and Jamti l'/., 153.
vol.. 1. u
98 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. ch. ui.
were done, Clement was ready to place a large sum of money
at James's disposal.1 To this message James returned a verbal
answer, giving to Lindsay at the same time a paper of instruc-
tions for his guidance. In these he was directed to tell the
Pope that ' the King could not satisfy his desire in those par-
ticular points contained in his letter.' He was much obliged
to him for his offers to befriend him, and hoped to be able
to return his courtesy. He would never dissemble his own
opinions, and would never reject reason whenever he heard it.2
Lindsay was prevented by illness from returning, and the Pope
received no answer to his proposal till after the crisis had passed.3
The Pope, indeed, before he was aware of James's favourable
intentions, had sent two breves to Garnet, the Provincial of the
The breves English Jesuits, in which directions were given that,
English as soon as Elizabeth died, the Catholics should take
Catholic-;. care that, if possible, no one should be allowed to
■ succeed except one who would not only grant toleration, but
would directly favour the Catholic religion.4 When Garnet
1 The King to Parr)-, Nov. 1603. The Latin letter sent to be commu-
nicated to the Nuncio is printed in Tierney's DodJ. iv. App. p. Ixvi. The
draft in English is amongst the Hatfield MSS. 112, fol. 150. Compare
Cranborne to Lennox, Jan. 1605, S. P. France. The proposal about Prince
Henry's education had first been broached in the pretended commission of
Pury Ogilvy.— S. P. Scotland, lviii. 81.
'-' Instructions, Oct. 24, 1602, S. P. Scotl. lxix. 20. There can be no
reasonable doubt that these instructions were actually given in Scotland.
3 In the spring of 1603 the Bishop of Vaison was in Paris. There is a
curious account in a letter of the Laird of Indernyty to James (y"' 3°' 1603,
". Scotl. lxix. 56, i. ), of a conversation between himself, the Bishop,
and the Nuncio at Paris. The Nuncio was doubtful as to James's inten-
tion-;, and said ' he would suspend his judgment till Sir J. Lindsay re-
turned.' This shows that no message had been sent by another hand upon
Lindsay's illness, as would have been the case had James been anxious to
win the Pope by hypocritical promises.
* Garnet's examinations in Jardinc s Gunpowder Plot, App. p. iii., throw
back the date of the breves. Their nguage does not suit with an inten-
tion to allow James's claim, but the Pope may have desired to alter his
language as soon as he knew what James's intentions were. There is a
note written by the Pope in the margin of Degli Effetti's letter of l"^i£<
1603, in which it is suggested that Clement may have written letters before
1602 TOLERATION ASKED FOR. 99
received these breves, early in 1602, he was at White Webbs,
a house frequented by the Jesuits, in Enfield Chase. He was
there consulted by Catesby, Tresham, and Winter, men whose
names afterwards became notorious for their connection with the
Gunpowder Plot, as to the propriety of sending one of their
number to the King of Spain, in order to induce him to attempt
an invasion of England. Winter was selected, and though
Garnet, according to his own account, disapproved of these
proceedings, he gave him a letter of introduction to Father
Cresswell, at Madrid. Winter found a good reception in Spain ;
but Elizabeth died before any preparations were made. Garnet
cither saw that there was no chance of resisting James, or was
satisfied that the lot of the Catholics would be improved under
his sceptre, and burnt the breves.1 Another mission was sent
to Spain, but the King was now anxious for peace with England,
and would give no assistance.
Towards the end of 1602, or in the beginning of the fol-
lowing year, an attempt was made in another quarter to
. . obtain a direct promise of toleration from James.
Letters of ' ■>
Northum. Northumberland did not care much about religion
himself, but he was closely connected with several
Catholics, who urged him to obtain a promise from the King
that he would do something to improve their condition. He
accordingly senl one of his relations, Thomas Percy, to James,
with a letter, in which, ;ifter professing his own loyalty and
giving him much good advice, he added that ' it were pity to
lose SO good a kingdom for not tolerating a mass in a corner.''2
Percy, on his return, gave out thai toleration had been promised
by James. In the King's written answer to Northumberland,
Elizabeth's death to authorise istano being given to a Catholic insur-
rection. In this note the Pop* : ' Won le habbiamo scritte nc a qui I
tempo ne a questo, anzi tutto ileontrario.' Roman Transcripts, A'. 0.
' Tierni • •■'. iv. App. p, ii,
* Correspondence ofjamti VI. with Sir A'. Cecil, 56. The identifi-
cation of this letter witb the one sent by Percy r< I partly upon fan
ription of the bearer in his answer (p, 61), and partly on a re/erei
t') that answer in Coke's speech at Northumberland' trial,
ii 2
ioo JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. III.
however, not a word is to be found referring to his proposal on
this subject.1 Northumberland, who continued the correspon-
dence, again pressed the matter upon the King. This time he
received an answer. " As for Catholics," wrote James, " I will
neither persecute any that will be quiet and give but an outward
obedience to the law, neither will I spare to advance any of
them that will by good service worthily deserve it."2 It is plain
that, though to a sanguine mind these words might seem to
convey a promise of toleration, there was nothing in them really
inconsistent with the deportation of every priest in England.
The ease with which James's title was acclaimed in England
did something to raise doubts in his mind as to the value of the
James's services which the Catholics had offered him. " Na,
afterehTs0ns na," he was heard to say, "we'll not need the Papists
accession. now."3 But on the whole the information which
reached London was such as to reassure the Catholics. James
had openly declared that he would not exact the fines. He
would not make merchandise of conscience, nor set a price
upon faith.
James continued to hold this language during his journey
southwards. On May 3 he arrived at Theobalds, a house
May 3. belonging to Cecil, not far from London. His first
drives m acts were sucn as to increase his popularity. He
Theobalds, ordered that Southampton, and the remainder of
those who had been imprisoned for their share in the rebellion
of Essex, should be set at liberty. Four days after his arrival
Ma . he issued a proclamation concerning those monopolies
Monopolies which still remained in force, commanding all persons
called in. . .
to abstain from making use of them till they could
satisfy the Council that they were not prejudicial to the King's
subjects. The patentees were accordingly allowed to state their
case before the Council, and the greater part of the existing
1 Unless, indeed, as Coke said, James meant to refuse it when he said
that he did not intend to make 'any alteration in the state, government, or
laws.' From the place which this sentence occupies in the letter, I do
not think that it was intended to bear any such meaning.
2 Degli Effetti to Del Bufalo, June ^g, Roman Transcripts, R. O.
3 Tierney's Dodd. iv. App. p. 1.
1603 SPAIX AND THE NETHERLANDS. 101
monopolies were called in. No doubt this was done by the
advice of the Council. That advice was also given
SfcyfiUes in support of the continued exaction of the Recu-
tobccoi- sancy fines, and James accordingly gave way and
May i- ordered the fines to be collected. If the Catholics,
Cecil raided he sai<j openly, were of a religion different from his
peerage. own, they could not be good subjects.1 Cecil was
now in high favour.
On May 13 he was raised to the peerage by the title of
Lord Cecil of Essendon. Three other barons were created at
the same time. These were the first of a series of creations
which raised the numbers of the House of Lords with a rapidity
that would have astonished Elizabeth.
Having, at all events for the present, refused toleration to
the Catholics, James turned his attention to his foreign relations.
Peace or ^s ^ar as England was concerned, with the exception
war with of the disputed right to trade in the East and West
Indies, there was absolutely no reason whatever for
continuing the war. The failure of the Spaniards in their
attempt to gain a footing in Ireland before Elizabeth died had
been complete, and they could no longer cherish any hopes of
success in a similar undertaking. Their new king, Philip III.,
sluggish and in< apable as he was, was not likely to attempt to
renew his father's aggressive policy, and it was known that his
all-powerful minister, I.erma, was anxious to recruit by peace
the exhausted strength of the kingdom. Under thesi < ir< 11111
stances there wanted little more to constitute a treaty between
the two I'owers than the few lines in which the simple anniiiim c-
ment might be made that hostilities were at an end.
The difficulty which stood in the way was caused by the
interminaU'- war in the Netherlands. Since the murder of the
French king Henry HI. the Dutch had taken advan-
The war in e . ., ,, .
the Nether- tage 01 the diversion whl( li had < ailed away the best
generals and the finest soldiers of Spain to spend
their strength in a vain stJ the rising fortum • I
Henry IV., and had pushed on, under the able leadership of
1 Degli Effetti to I >• 1 Bufalo, June ' ', /' man Transcript , A'.O.
ioa JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. in.
Maurice, and the no less able statesmanship of Barneveld, till
fhey had swept the Spaniards from the soil of the Seven United
Provinces. At last the whole war gathered round Ostend. All
the skill and vigour of the Dutch, and of their English allies
under the command of Sir Francis Vere, were put forth in
defence of that bulwark of the Republic. The siege had
now lasted for no less than three long years. With all his
military skill, Spinola was still unable to force an entrance.
But the Dutch were calling loudly for assistance, and declared
that, unless succour were promptly afforded, Ostend must fall,
in spite of the valour of its defenders, and that after the fall of
Ostend their own territory would become untenable.
There was a large party in England which was desirous to
fight the quarrel out with Spain. To many Englishmen Spain
was the accursed power which had filled two conti-
pany in nents with bloodshed. It was the supporter of the
Pope, and of all the tyranny and wickedness under
which the world was suffering. This evil power was now
weakened by repeated failures. Why not strike one more
blow for the cause of God, and hew the monster down ? Such
feelings found a spokesman in Raleigh. In a paper, which,
in the course of the spring, he drew up for presentation to
James, he argued with his usual ability for the good old cause.
Especially, he pleaded strongly for the Dutch. They had been
allies of England in the weary hours of doubt and difficulty.
Together the two countries had borne the burden of the day.
It was disgraceful — it was infamous —for Englishmen to desert
their brothers now that hope was beginning to appear. Not
long afterwards Raleigh offered to lead 2,000 men against the
King of Spain at his own expense.1
Of the spirit of righteous indignation which had animated
the Elizabethan heroes in their conflict with Spain, James knew
Opinions nothing. He declared for peace immediately upon
of james. his arrival in England. He issued a proclamation
forbidding the capture of Spanish prizes, and waited for the
1 ' A Discourse touching a War with Spain.' — Works, viii. 299. Ra-
leigh to Nottingham and others, Aug. Edwards' Life of Ralegh, ii. 271.
1603 THE ADVOCATES OE PEACE. 103
overtures which he expected from the Court of Spain. Besides
this eagerness for peace, he was possessed with the idea that
the Dutch were engaged in an unlawful resistance to their law-
ful king, an idea in which the bishops did their best to confirm
him.1 He was never weary of repeating publicly, to the disgust
of the statesmen who had taken part in the counsels of Elizabeth,
that the Dutch were mere rebels, and that they deserved no
assistance from him.
It is difficult to ascertain with precision what Cecil's views
really were. His father had been the advocate of a policy of'
Cecil's peace. When Essex, at the Court of Elizabeth, was
crying out for war, the aged Burghley opened a Bible,
and pointed to the text : " Bloody and deceitful men shall not
live out half their days." Of the memorial on the state of foreign
affairs - which Burghley's son now presented to the King, and
in which he expressed his thoughts on foreign affairs, a frag-
ment only has been preserved. From that fragment, however,
it is plain that he fully shared all Raleigh's dislike of Spain, and
that he was anxious, by all possible means, to check the pro-
gress of the Spanish arms in the Netherlands. But he looked
upon the whole subject with the eye of a statesman. The lost
p.- 1 ;_rcs of the memorial probably contained the reasons why it
was impossible for England to continue hostilities. He knew,
as Elizabeth had known, that England could not bear many
Financial uu>re years of war. Parliament had voted supplies
difficulties, w;t), no ordinary alacrity, but even these Supplies had
not relieved the Queen from the ne< essity of raising money by
extensive sales of Crown property, and by contracting loan,
which were waiting for a speedy repayment. The revenue of
the Crown was d( 1 r< asing, and with the very strictest economy
it was impossible for the new King to bring even a peace
expenditure within the limits of that revenue which he had
received from his predecessor. If Spain was to be driven out
of the Netherlands, Parliament must be prepared to vote sup-
plies far larger than they had ever granted to Elizabeth, in times
when England itself was in danger.
1 The King to Abbot. Wilkins's Com. iv. 405.
1 S. r. Dow. i. 17.
104 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. ch. III.
As far as we can judge by the reports of his language which
have reached us through the unfriendly medium of the de-
_ „ spatches of French ambassadors, Cecil was anxious
1 he Ne-
therlands to see a peace concluded which would relieve Eng-
land from the burden of an objectless war, and at the
same time, to put a check on the encroachments of Spain. The
scheme which he would perhaps have preferred, had it been
practicable, was the union of the whole of the seventeen pro-
vinces under an independent government, which would be
strong enough to bid defiance to France as well as to Spain.1
Such a scheme has always found favour in the eyes of English
statesmen. But in 1603, the project would certainly have met
with even less success than in 1814. Philip II. indeed had,
shortly before his death, taken a step which was intended to
facilitate such a settlement. He had made over the sove-
reignty of the Netherlands to his eldest daughter Isabella and
her husband the Archduke Albert, a younger brother of the
Emperor Rudolph II. He hoped that the rebels, as he still
styled them, would be ready to come to terms with his daughter,
though they were unwilling to treat with h'mself. But even if
the Dutch had felt any inclination to submit to a Catholic
Sovereign, there were especial reasons which warned them from
accepting the dominion of the Archdukes, as the husband and
wife were called. Their sovereignty was hampered with so
many conditions, and the presence of Spanish troops at the
seat of war reduced them to such practical impotence, that it
almost a mockery to speak of them as independent rulers.
Besides, no children had been born to the marriage, and the
reversion of their rights was vested in the Crown of Spain.
The Dutch had another plan for uniting the seventeen pro-
1 This is undoubtedly the meaning of Rosny, when he says that Cecil,
with Egtrton and Buckhurst, were ' tous d'humeurs anciennes Angloises,
c'est a dire ennemies de la France, peu amies de l'Espagne, et absolument
portees pour faire resusciter la maison de Bourgogne.' — Econ. A'ov, iv. 431,
Col. Petitot. Mr. Motley unfortunately founded his whole account of this
embassy on Sully's Mimoires, not having been aware that no dependence
can be placed on that form of the work. His narrative is therefore
thoroughly untrustworthy.
/6o3 THE DUTCH MISSION. 105
vinces under one government. Let hut France and England
oin in one great effort, and in the course of a year not a single
Spanish soldier would be left in the Netherlands.
Was this a policy which an English Government would be
justified in carrying out, certain as it was to try the energies of
the nation to the utmost ? The dull, demoralising tyranny of
the sixteenth century had done its work too well. To form a
republic which should include the Spanish Provinces would be
to realise the fable of the old Italian tyrant, and to bind the
living to the dead. This was no work for which England was
bound to exhaust her strength.
The true policy of England undoubtedly lay in another
direction. If it were once understood that no peace would be
made unless the independence of the existing republic were
recognised, Spain would certainly submit to the proposed terms.
The free North would retain its liberty, the paralysed South
would slumber on under the despotism which it had been
unable or unwilling to shake off.
It was not the fault of the English.Government that this in-
e\itable settlement was postponed through so many years of
The Dutch war- The first embassy which arrived in England to
embe congratulate the new Kini; upon his accession was
one from Holland. Barneveld himself had come to see if any
help could be obtained from Janus. Cecil told him plainly
that the Kin^ desired pea< e, but that he was ready to consider
the case of the States in the negotiation. The Dutch ambassa-
dors answered thai peace with Spain was impossible for them.
It was no wonder that niter all the trickery which they had
experienced, they should feel a dislike to enter upon a treaty
with their enemy, but they can hardly have expe< ted James to
engage himself in an inti rminable war. Their immediate pur-
pose was, however, to obtain uc 1 our for Ostend. Barneveld
seems to have made an impression upon the susceptible mind
of Jami . and wa 1, perhaps, the first who indu< ed him to doubt
the truth of tl condemnations which he had been
accustomed to pass on the cause of the Dutch He was told,
however, thai nothing COUld be finally settled till the arrival of
the special embassy which was expected shortly from France.
106 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. ill.
The ambassador who had been chosen by Henry IV. was
Rosnys the celebrated Rosny, better known to us by his
^RtafloF later title aS the Duke °f Sully' HiS main ODJeCt
Krance. m coming was to induce James to afford some
succour to Ostend.
About the time of his arrival in England, a circumstance
occurred which was more favourable to his> design than any
arguments which it was in his power to use. A priest named
Gwynn ' was taken at sea, and confessed to his captor that his
intention in coming to England was to murder the King. The
readiness with which he gave this information gives cause for a
suspicion that he was not in the full possession of his senses.
However this may have been, it was, at least, certain that he
came from Spain, and the fright which this affair caused the
King, predisposed him to listen to Rosny's stories of Spanish
treachery.2
On the occasion of Rosny's first presentation to James, a
curious incident took place. He had come prepared to put
Rosny himself and his suite into mourning for the late
"Tto^ear Queen. Just as he was about to leave his apart-
iii mourning. nients, he was informed that the King would be
better pleased if he did not come in mourning.3 There was
nothing for it but to submit. The Frenchmen drew their own
inferences as to the repute in which the great Queen was held
at the court of her successor. Many months were not to pass
1 Cecil to Tarry, May 25, Cott. MSS. Cal. E. x. 59. Rosny to the
King of France, June 24, Econ. Roy, iv. 329.
2 Cecil to Parry, June 10, S. P. Fr. St. Aubyn to the Council, June 6.
olphin and Harris to the Council, June 23, 1603, with enclosures,
S. P. Dom. ii. 3, 15.
3 James seems to have had a general dislike to anything which reminded
him of death. When his son Henry was dying he left London rather than
he present at the death-bed. He did not allow many weeks to pass after
the death of his queen, in 1619, before he threw off his mourning, to the
astonishment of the ambassadors, who had come prepared to offer their
condolences. Taken separately, each of these circumstances has been
interpreted as a sign of the King's feelings in the particular case. But it is
more probable that his conduct was the result of a weakness which occa-
sionally shows itself in feeble minds.
i6o3 THE FRENCH MISSION. 107
away before James would speak more reverently of Elizabeth
than he was, at this time, accustomed to do. Unfortunately,
when that time came, it was chiefly the errors in her policy
which attracted his respect.1
Rosny's instructions authorised him to use all means in his
power to induce James to unite with France and the Dutch
Rosnys in- Republic in opposing the designs of Spain. Henry
structions. jy was n0(; indeed prepared at once to embark on a
war with his powerful neighbour ; but he was desirous of giving
a secret support to the Dutch, and he hoped that James might
be induced to pursue a similar course. If, however, it should
happen that James preferred to continue the war, Rosny was to
discuss the best means of carrying it on, without coming to
any final resolution. He was also to propose that the alliance
between the two Crowns should be strengthened by a double
marriage — of the Dauphin with James's only daughter, the Lady
Elizabeth ; and of Prince Henry with Elizabeth, the eldest
daughter of the King of France.'
After some little time had been spent in negotiations, Rosny
obtained from James, by a treaty signed at Hampton Court,
some part of that which he had been commissioned
June. ' ...
Treaty with to demand. James promised to allow the levy of
soldiers in England and Scotland for the defence of
Ostcnd, but it was agreed that Henry should defray the ex-
penses of this fori e, though a third part of the cost was to he
deducted from a debt which he owed to the English Govern-
ment' With respect to the double marriage nothing was
settled. James, on one occasion, drank to the success of the
future union ; but all the four < hildren were still very young, and
there was no necessity of coming to any immediate decision.
( )n July 21 two members of the Privy Council were raised
to the peerage. The Lord Keepei Egerton, who was now
dignified with the higher title of Chancellor, became Lord
1 Barlow tells us 1l1.1t at the Hampton Court Conference James never
mentioned Elizabeth's name without adding "in' n pectful title. lie
docs not appear to have relapsed into In previous misplaced contempt
2 Sully, Econ. Roy, ' ol. Petitot, iv. 261.
* Dumont, Cor/, Diflom. v. part 2, p. ,30.
108 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. ill.
Ellesmere ; and Lord Howard of Walden, who, as well as his
uncle Lord Henry, had been admitted to the Council, was
Creation of created Earl of Suffolk. He had served with distinc-
i>eers. tjon at sea m many 0f the naval expeditions which
had been sent forth during the latter years of the late reign. He
was known as a well-meaning, easy-tempered man, of moderate
talents. It is possible that Lord Henry's known attachment to
the religion of his father ' may have influenced James in se-
lecting the nephew rather than the uncle as the first recipient
of such honours amongst the family of the Howards. It was
not till some months later that Lord Henry was raised to the
peerage. The young head of the family, too, received back
his father's lost honours, and the name of the Earl of Arundel
was once more heard amongst those of the English nobility.
During the month of July the Council was busy in tracking
out a Catholic conspiracy which had come to light. Among
... , the Catholics who had visited lames in Scotland
W ats ins J
visii before his accession to the English throne, was
William Watson, one of the secular priests who had
been very busy in his opposition to the Jesuits, and had taken
a considerable part in the strife which had divided the English
Catholics during the last years of Elizabeth's reign. A vain,
unwise man, his predominant feeling was a thorough hatred
of the Jesuits. " He received," as he tells us, "a gracious and
comfortable answer on behalf of all Catholics known to be
loyal subjects."2 Armed with this promise, and probably ex-
aggerating its meaning, he had busied himself in persuading
the Catholic gentry to whom he had access to support James's
title, and to turn a deaf ear to the machinations of the Jesuits ;
and he flattered himself that it was owing to his influence that
1 Strictly, not the religion of his father, which was the Anglo-Catholic-
ism ot the reign of Henry VIII., with perhaps a feeling that the Catholicism
of Rome was the only complete form in which it was possible to embrace
the system. Lord Henry accepted the papal authority, though he attended
Protestant service.
'-' The most important part of the confessions upon which this narrative
rests is published in Tierney's Dodd. iv. App. i. Some further particulars
will be found in Beaumont's despatches.
1603 WATSON'S PLOT. 109
all over England the Catholics were among the foremost who
supported the proclamation which announced the accession of
the new King.
After James had been proclaimed, Watson set himself to
counteract the intrigues which he believed the Jesuits to be
Watson's carrying on in favour of Spanish interests. The re-
anger at the soiution 0f James to exact the fines was regarded by
exaction -' .
of the fines. hjm almost in the light of a personal insult. He
would become the laughing-stock of the Jesuits, for having
believed in the lying promises of a Protestant King. His first
thought was to gain favour with the Government by betraying
his rivals. But he knew nothing of importance ; and, at all
costs, he must do something, it mattered not what, by which
he might outshine the hated Jesuits. Shortly after he had
formed this determination he fell in with another priest named
Clarke. They discussed their grievances together with Sir
Griffin Markham, a Catholic gentleman, who was, for private-
reasons, discontented with the Government, and with George
Brooke, a brother of Lord Cobham, who, although he was a
Protestant, had been disappointed by not obtaining the Master-
ship of the hospital of St. Cross, near Winchester.
While they were talking these matters over, Markham made
the unlucky suggestion that the best way to obtain redress
Markham would he to follow the example which had so often
■ by the Scottish nation. The Scots, as was
■lie: J
King. well known, were accustomed, whenever they were
un;i obtain what they wished for, to take possession of
their King, and to keep him in custody till he consented to
give way- It w;is immediately resolved to adopt this prepos-
nir. But In/fore Buch a plan could 1"' carried into
cution it was necessary to devise iome means of rendering
j, palatable to tho te whom they sought to enlist in their 1 ause.
They knew that all Catholics who would be willing to I
anus againsl the King were already under the inflm n< e ol the
r, nits. To obviate this difficulty it was gravely
Plans of the J *" 1 i i i 1
I ed that a number ol pei ons should be « ol
lected together under pretence ol presenting a petition for tole-
ration to the King ; and it was hoped that, when the time
no JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. ch. in.
came for action, the petitioners would be ready to do as they
were bidden by the leaders of the movement. All who signed
the petition were to swear that they would endeavour by all
' lawful means to restore the Catholic faith again in ' the
'country, to conserve the life of ' their ' Sovereign in safety,
and to preserve the laws of the 'land from all enemies.' They
were to be bound to divulge nothing without the consent of
twelve of the principal promoters of the petition. Watson
afterwards acknowledged that this clause was a mere trick to
bind them to complete secrecy. As the number of the chief
promoters was less than twelve, such a consent could never be
obtained.
With these views, Watson and his confederates dispersed
themselves over the country. They expected to be able to
collect a large body of men in London on June 24. These
men would, as they hoped, be ready to follow their lead in
everything. In order to bring together the requisite numbers,
Watson was by no means sparing of falsehoods. The timid
were encouraged by hearing of the thousands who were en-
gaged in the affair, or of the noblemen who had already given
in their adhesion. All, or almost all, were left under the im-
pression that they were required to join only in the peaceful
presentation of a petition.
In the early part of June, Watson, who had now returned
to London, proceeded to mature his plans with the help of
Lord Grey Markham and of a young man named Copley who
iist^nsto" na(^ ktely been admitted to his confidence. Strange
them. t0 say) Brooke introduced to the plotters Lord Grey
of Wilton, a hot-headed young man of high character and
decided Puritanism. Grey was at that time sadly discontented
at the extension of James's favour to Southampton and to
others of the followers of Essex, who were his bitter enemies ;
and he was induced without difficulty to join in the plan for
presenting a petition to James for a general toleration. Though
no absolute certainty is attainable, it is probable that he was
drawn on to assent, at least for a time, to the scheme for forcing
the petition on James The relation between him and the
other conspirators was, however, not one to endure much
1603 WATSON'S PLOT. in
straining. Before long Watson was considering how he might
get credit for himself and the Catholics, by employing Grey to
seize the King, and then rescuing James from his grasp when
the struggle came. Grey, on the other hand, shrank from the
co-operation of his new allies, and under pretext of postponing
the scheme to a more convenient opportunity, drew back from
all further connection with it.
As the time for executing the scheme approached, Brooke
seems to have drawn off. The plan of the confederates, in-
deed, was wild enough to deter any sober man from joining it.
They deter- They intended to seize the King at Greenwich, on
Mi'n<rilc the June 24- ^s soon as tn's ^a(^ keen effected, they
King. were to put on the coats of the King's guards and
to carry him to the Tower, as though he were going there
voluntarily. When they arrived at the gate they were to tell
the Lieutenant that the King was flying for refuge from traitors
They took it for granted that James would be too terrified to
say what the real state of the case was, and they do not seem
to have imagined that the mistake could be detected in any
other way. Once within the 'lower, the whole kingdom would
be at their feet. They would compel the King to put into
their hands the forts of Berwick, Plymouth, and Portsmouth,
the castles of Dover and Arundel, and any other places which
they might think fit to ask for. He was to give hostages for
the free use of their religion, and to consent that Catholics
should have equal place, office, and estimation with Protestants
in council, at court, and in the country, and that the penal
laws should at ohm- be abrogated.1
Watson, intoxicated with the success which his fancy pic-
tured to him, began to talk wildly alioiit 'displacing Privy
Councillors, Cutting Off of heads, and getting the broad seal
into his hands.'-' He had already distributed the chief offi
of state:3 Copley was t-i he Secretary \ Markham to be Earl
Marshal; he himself wa , to he Lord Keeper. Even Copley
1 Articles f<.r Grey's defence, Nov. (15?), S. /'. Pom. iv. Si ; Ed«
wards' Lift of JtaUgh, i. 345, 350 ; Tierni y'a Dodd. iv. App. p. 1.
2 Copley's ( 11, July 14, Tierney's Dodd. iv. App. p. x.
' Watson's Confession, Aug. 10, Tierney's Dodd. App. p. iv.
ii2 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. m.
was unable to swallow this, and suggested that, at least under
present circumstances, it would cause discontent if a priest
were again seen presiding in Chancery, though he hoped that
the times would soon return when such things might again be
possible. Watson refused to listen to such an objection.
If, however, contrary to expectation, the King declined to
follow their directions, he was to be treated with consideration,
but to be kept a close prisoner till he granted their demands.1
Many noblemen would be confined with him, and from time
to time ' some buzzes of fear ' might ' be put into their heads,'
in order that they might, in their turn, terrify the King.
Watson proposed that, if James still held out, he should be
deposed. Copley refused to assent to such a measure, and
this point seems never to have been settled amongst them.
Copley Whilst this question was under discussion, it occurred
r't°the to Copley that it would be well to make use of the
King. t[me during which the King would be in the Tower,
to attempt his conversion. No doubt he would readily catch at
an opportunity of displaying his theological knowledge in a public
disputation. If, as was more than probable, he still declared
himself unconvinced, his mind might be influenced by a trial
of the respective powers of exorcism possessed by a Catholic
priest and a Protestant minister, which was sure to end in the
triumph of the former. Watson objected that James would
certainly say that the person exorcised had only been labouring
under a fictitious malady ; he might also charge the successful
rcist with witchcraft, or even refuse to be present at all at
such a trial. Copley answered that in that case they might
fall back upon the old method of deciding quarrels, by trial by
battle. Watson doubted whether it would be possible to find
a champion. Upon this, Copley offered himself to undertake
the combat, ' provided that it might be without scandal to the
Catholic Church, upon the canon of the Council of Trent to
the contrary of all duellums ; and I choose the weapons, not
doubting but my wife, who by the sacrament of matrimony
is individually interested in my person, would (for being a
1 Copley's Answer Aug. I, Tierney's Dodd. App. p. vii. note 2.
1603 WATSON'S PLOT. 113
Catholic, and the cause so much God's) quit at my request
such her interest for a time, and also much !ess doubting but
to find amongst the host of heaven that blessed Queen, his
Majesty's mother, at my elbow in that hour ! "
One evening, Markham came in with the news that the
King intended to leave Greenwich on the 24th. They would
Change of therefore be compelled to alter their plans. He was
plans. t0 sieep at Hanworth on his way to Windsor. Mark-
ham said that a body of men might easily seize him there, if
they took 'every man his pistol, or case of pistols.' Copley
asked where either the men or the pistols were to be found.
Markham was struck dumb by the inquiry, muttered something
about another plan, and left the room.
On the 24th, Watson's lodgings were crowded with Catho-
lics who had come up from the country to join in presenting
the petition. But their numbers were far too small
June 24. x
The plot to carry out the design which the heads of the con-
spiracy really had in view, and the day passed over
without a finger being stirred against the King. The next day
Markham brought them the unwelcome news that Grey had
refused to have any further communication with them. Many
hours had not passed before they heard rumours that the
eminent was aware of their plot. The whole party fled
for their lives, to be taken one by one in the course of the fol-
lowing weeks. So utterly futile did the whole matter appear
n to those who were engaged in it, that Copley and Mark-
ham decided upon putting themselves at the disposal of the
I nits, thinking that they alone had heads clear enough to
i on< V effe tual s< heme tor the liberation of the Oppre
Catholic s.
'I he Je -uits knew more about the plot than the 1 onspirators
were aware of Some time before the appointed day arrived,
1 ley. uncertain whether the scheme were justifi-
InfirmatK.n r " . '
convey.a ... able or not, had written to Blackwell, the An hpn
who had 1" • n entrusted by the Pope with the 1 hai
of the se< ular < lergy in England, to ask his advii e, and he had
a< quainted his sister, Mrs. Cage, with the fact that he had
VOL. I. I
114 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. ill.
written such a letter.1 Both Blackwell and Mrs. Gage were
on the best terms with the Jesuits, and the information was
by one or other of them conveyed to Father Gerard.
Gerard passed the knowledge on to Garnet as his superior.
Between Gerard and Garnet a closer tie existed than that
Gamet and which ordinarily bound a Jesuit to his superior. When
Gerard. Gerard, who was one of the most persuasive of the
Catholic missionaries, was thrown into the Tower, he had borne
sore tortures rather than reveal the hiding-place
1597. .
of Garnet. When Gerard succeeded in making his
perilous escape by swinging himself along a rope suspended
over the Tower ditch, it was with Garnet that he first sought
refuge.2 The two friends were of one mind in wishing to dis-
countenance the plot. Something, no doubt, of their resolution
is due to the hostility of their order to the priests by whom it
was conducted; but it must be remembered that at present the
whole weight of the Society and of Pope Clement himself was
thrown into the scale of submission to the King. They still
hoped much from his readiness to listen to reason, and they
were by no means ready to abandon their expectation of tolera
tion because he had exacted the fines on one occasion.3 Gerard,
June, 1603. at first> contented himself with warning the con-
Gerard spirators to desist : but when he found his advice
read j
. the disregarded, he sent a message to the Government
informing them of the whole conspiracy. The mes-
sage, it was true, was never delivered, but this was merely
because a similar communication had already been made4 by
a priest named Barneby, who was a prisoner in the Clink, and
who, by Blackwell's directions, had given information to the
Bishop of London, in order that he might pass it on to Cecil.5
The discovery of the plot by the Catholics themselves had
all the consequences which the Jesuits had anticipated. On
1 Copley's Declaration, Tierney's Dodd. iv., App. p. iv.
- Morris, Life of Gerard, 298.
3 This may he positively asserted to have heen the case, on the evidence
of the letters amongst the Roman Transcripts, R. 0.
* Gerard's Narrative in Morris's Condition of Catholics, 74.
« Degli Effetti to Del Bufalo, ]u"e 3°' July lA
b ' July 10, J J 23
!6o3 THE RECUSANCY ELVES REMITTED. 115
June 17 James confidentially acquainted Rosny with his
purpose of remitting the Recusancy fines.1 Yet it was not
without hesitation that James carried out his intention. Some-
times his mind dwelt more on the Catholics who had formed
June 17. the plot than on those who had betrayed it. He
poseTto™* would be very glad, he informed Rosny, to be on
remit the friendly terms with the Pope, if only he would
Recusancy ' . , L J
fines, consent to his remaining the head of his own Church,
but hesi- He told Beaumont, the resident French Ambassador,
that, in spite of his kindness to the Catholics, they
had sought his life. Beaumont replied that the conspirators
were exceptions amongst a generally loyal body, and that if
liberty of conscience were not allowed, he would hardly be
able to put a stop to similar plots.'2 James was convinced by
the Frenchman's reasoning.
On July 17 a deputation of the leading Catholics was heard
by the Council in the presence of the King. Their spokesman
July :7. was ^'r Thomas Tresham, a man familiar with im-
a catholic prisonment and fine. "I have now," he had written
deputation. . . .
a short time previously to Lord Henry Howard,
"completed my triple apprenticeship of one and twenty years
in direct adversity, and I shall be content to serve a like long
apprenticeship to prevent the foregoing of my beloved, beau-
tiful, and graceful Rachel ; for it seems to me but a few days
for the love I have to her."3 James listened to the pleading
of the noble-hearted man, and yielded He assured the di pu
. tation that the fines should be remitted as long as
remiuthe they behaved as loval subjects, if, he added, the
hli>: .. .
Catholii • would al 10 obey the law, the highest plai 1 s
in the State should be Open to them. In other words, if they
would be as base as Howard, they should sit al the Council-
table, and take part in the government of England.4 Howard.
in James's language, was the tame duck by whose help he
1 Econ. Roy, iv. 370.
Beaumont to H< niy IV. July ' :, King1* MSS. 123, fol. 327 b.
2 Beaumont to Henry IV. July
1 Jardine's GuttJ. 1 / r Plot, 10.
* Degli Effetti to D 1 Bufalo, July -, Roman Transcripts, A\ 0.
1 2
Il6 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. Hi.
hoped to catch many wild ones. It was evident that he had not
faced the problem fairly. There were thousands of Catholics
in England who resembled Tresham more than Howard, and
no remission of fines was likely to be lasting if it was based on
the misapprehension that toleration was only a step to a hypo-
critical conversion.
For the present, however, the Catholics enjoyed unaccus-
tomed peace. The 20/. fines ceased at once. With the lands of
which two thirds had been taken there was more difficulty, as
there were lessees who had a claim on the property. Probably,
however, the lessees were often friends of the owners, and in
such cases there would be little difficulty in coming to an
arrangement. At all events the income accruing to the Crown
from this source was enormously diminished.1
The Catholic problem pursued James even in his own family
circle. When, on July 25, the ceremony of the coronation took
July 25. place at Westminster, Anne of Denmark consented
Coronation to receive the crown at the hands of a Protestant
The Queen Archbishop ; but when the time arrived for the re-
recef" the ception of the Communion she remained immove-
Communion. a^]c on ner seat) leaving the King to partake alone.
Anne, however, was not of the stuff of which martyrs are made.
Enthusiastic Catholics complained that she had no heart for
anything but festivities and amusements, and during the rest
of her life she attended the services of the church sufficiently
to enable the Government to allege that she was merely an
enemy of Puritanical strictness.2
For the present James was the more inclined to treat the
Catholics well, because he had learnt that another plot was
Cobham's m existence in which Protestants were concerned,
plot. Brooke's participation in Watson's conspiracy had
been discovered by means of the examination of the prisoners,
and as soon as Cecil had learned that, he naturally suspected
that Brooke's brother, Cobham, had had a hand in the mischief.
In order to obtain information against Cobham, Raleigh was
summoned before the Council at Windsor. There is no reason
J Receipt- Books of Ike Exchequer.
8 Dcgli Efletti to Del Bufalo, Aug. -, Roman Transcripts, R. 0.
1603 COB HAM AND RALEIGH. 117
to suppose that Cobham had more than a general knowledge
of Watson's doings, and of these Raleigh was unable to speak.
Shortly after this examination, however, Raleigh wrote to Cecil,
informing him that he believed that Cobham had dealings with
Aremberg, the ambassador who had lately come over from the
Archduke, and that he carried on his communications by means
of an Antwerp merchant, named Renzi, who was
Cobham and . . . . T . T ..
Raleigh residing in London. In consequence either of tins
letter or of Brooke's confession, Cobham was arrested.
On July 17,1 the very day on which the Catholic deputation
was before the Council, Raleigh himself became suspected
and was committed to the Tower.
The truth of the story, which came out by degrees, will,
in all probability, never be completely known. It would be
labour in vain to build upon Cobham's evidence. He had no
sooner stated a fact than he denied it. The only point which
he succeeded in establishing was the undoubted fact that he
was himself a most impudent liar. On the other hand, it is
impossible to place implicit confidence in Raleigh's story, for
though his veracity is unimpeachable by the evidence of six h
a man as ( lobham, it cannot be denied that he made statements
which he must have known at the time to be false. Whatever
may be the truth on this difficult subject, there is no reason to
!>t that Cecil at least acted in perfect good faith.- There
was enough evidence to make Raleigh's innocence doubtful,
and under su< h < ircumstances, according to the ideas of thi
times, the right course to take was to send the accused before
a jury. Ce< U - whole conduct during this affair was that of a
man who looki d upon Raleigh, indeed, with no friendly 1
and who believed that he was probably guilty, but who was
irons that he should have every chance of proving his
innocenc
1 Extract from the journal "I ( ecil 1 iry, Add, MSS, c 1 77.
■ Beaumont's opinion that he acted through passion 1 oAei
apainst him, but the French ambassador had had too many diplon
ojntli<:ts with < ec il to judge him fairly.
3 Mr. Tytler, in h
that the whole a trick got up l Hi fii 1 qui
Ii8 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. in.
The evidence upon which the Privy Council acted was
obtained from various sources. It appeared that there was
a general impression among the participators in
against Watson's plot, which they had derived from Brooke's
information, that both Cobham and Raleigh were
engaged in intrigues for the purpose of dethroning the King,
apparently with the object of placing Arabella Stuart upon the
throne. It was also said that Cobham had talked of killing
' the King and his cubs.' This latter statement was afterwards
denied by Brooke on the scaffold. He had, however, un-
doubtedly mentioned it to Watson. The discrepancy may
either be explained by supposing that he did so with the view
of driving Watson more deeply into the plot, or, as is more
the long letter of Lord Henry Howard, printed in Raleigh's Works (viii.
756), as evidence that about 1602 Howard wrote to Cecil a letter contain-
ing 'an outline of the plan afterwards put in execution, for the destruction
of Cobham and Raleigh, by entrapping them in a charge of treason.' Mr.
Tytler acknowledged that it was not certain that it was written to Cecil at
all. Rut even supposing that it was, which is perhaps the most pro-
bable explanation, it is unfair to infer that Cecil partook in Howard's
methods of attacking their common rivals. It is still more to the pur-
to show that the letter in question contains no scheme such as was
discovered in it by .Mr. Tytler. It is plain, upon reading the complete
passages from which he has made extracts, that Howard did not propose
to entrap Raleigh and Cobham in a charge of treason, but to lead them to
take part in difficult business, where they would be sure to make mistakes
which might afford an opportunity of pointing out their defects to the
Queen. This is miserable enough, but it is not so bad as the other recom-
mendation would have been, nor is there any warrant for supposing that
even this met with Cecil's approbation.
Mr. Tytler's second proof was founded on a letter of Brooke's, written
nber 18, 1603, in which he says the following words : " But above
all give me leave to conjure your Lordship to deal directly with me, what
I am to expect after so many promises received, and so much conformity
and accepted service performed on my part to you." From this he inferred
that Cecil had used Brooke to act as a spy, and had abandoned him. Is
it likely that if this had been the case Brooke would not have used stronger
expressions, or that Cecil would have dared to send him to the block,
knowing that he had it in his powei to expose the infamy of such conduct ?
Brooke may very well have rendered services in past days to Cecil and
received promises of favour in return.
1603 COEHAM A.XD RALEIGH. 1,9
likely, that he denied the story on the scaffold, in hopes of
benefiting his brother. Whatever this conspiracy may have
been, the priests knew nothing of its particulars. Brooke,
however, distinctly stated that his brother had, before
Cobham . . . . . ,
obta.ns the Aremberg s arrival, entered into communication with
m^y^'n him, and had offered to help in procuring the peace
:rg' which his master had so much at heart, if he would
place at his disposal a sum of five or six hundred thousand
crowns, which he would employ in gaining the services of
diffetent discontented persons.1 A portion of this money was
certainly offered to Raleigh, though, according to his own
account, which there is no reason to doubt, he immediately
refused it.- Aremberg promised to send the money to
Cobham, and requested to know how it was to be transmitted,
and ill what manner it was to be distributed.
On Aremberg's arrival, Cobham sought him out. Whether
his designs had been already formed, or whether they grew in
his mind after conversation with the ambassador, is
He declares . . , .
abella uncertain. At all events, he seems at tins time to
.; have entertained the idea of assisting Arabella to the
crown, and of course also of seeing Cecil and the
.ards beneath his feet. He commissioned his brother to
her to write to the Infanta, the Duke of Savoy, and the
i Spain, in hopes of inducing them to support her title.3
In spit.- ol Brooke's refusal, Cobham continued to negotiate
with Aremberg, either with a view of inducing him to countenance
thi . 1 in hopes of obtaining money which might be
employed to distribute amongst persons who would use their
influence in procuring the peace of which the King ol Spain
1 |. « ven offered to undertake a mission tO
Spain in order to induce the King to listen to his proposals.
ilw e ; were gradually disclosed, the suspicions
against Raleigh 1" 1 in the minds of the m< m
the Govt rnm< nt It was known that he had too good
reasons to be discontented. He had been persuaded 01
1 Brooke's Confession, July 19, S. P. Dom. ii. 64.
2 Raleigh's Examination, Aug. 13, Jardine's Crim. '/'rials, i. 425.
3 Brooke's Confession, July 19, S. /'. Dom. ii. 64.
120 JAMES I. AXD THE CATHOLICS. ch. III.
compelled to resign his Wardenship of the Stannaries, and
when the monopolies were suspended for examination, his
lucrative patent of wine licences ' was amongst those which
Raleigh were called in question. Durham House, which he
suspected. ]ia(j Y\dd for t%venty years, had been claimed by the
Bishop of Durham, and the lawyers who were consulted having
given an opinion in the Bishop's favour, Raleigh had been
ordered with unseemly haste to leave the house.2 Altogether,
he had lost a considerable part of his income, and such a loss
was certainly not likely to put a man in good humour with the
Government which had treated him so harshly. At the same
time, it was well known that he was Cobham's greatest if not
his only friend, and that they had for some years been
engaged together in political schemes. Was it probable, it
might be argued, that a man like Cobham, who had informed
his brother of part, at least, of his design, should have kept
his constant companion in ignorance ? This reasoning had
induced Cecil to send for Raleigh at Windsor. It must have
received additional weight as soon as the Government heard
that, after Raleigh had left them, he wrote a letter to Cobham,
assuring him that he had 'cleared him of all,' and accompanied
it with a message that one witness (by which he probably meant
Brooke) could not condemn him.3 It was undoubtedly sus-
picious. It was just such a message as would have been sent
by one accomplice to another, in order to procure his silence.
Cobham too, when the letter was shown him which Raleigh
had written denouncing his intercourse with Aremberg, broke
out into a passion, and declared that all that he had done had
been done at Raleigh's instigation. His evidence, however,
was invalidated by the fact that he afterwards retracted it on
1 The wine licences were finally declared to be no monopoly ; but,
Raleigh having lost them by his attainder, they were granted to the Lord
Admiral, the Earl of Nottingham.
- I gerton Papers, Catnd, Soc. 376.
3 Raleigh on his trial denied sending this message. But Keymis, who
was the messenger, declared that he had carried it, thus corroborating
Cobham's evidence. A man who ' endeavoured still to transfer all from
his master to himself was not likely to have invented this. — Waad to
Cecil, Sept. 2, 1603, S. /'. Dom. iii. '2.
1603 RALEIGH'S LETTER TO HIS WIFE. 121
his way from his examination, it was said, as soon as he reached
the stair-foot.
Raleigh's health suffered extremely during his imprison-
ment ; in all probability from mental rather than from physical
juiy. causes. In less than a fortnight after his arrest, his
spirits had become so depressed that he allowed
himself to make an ineffectual attempt at self-
destruction.
The letter in which he took, as he supposed, a farewell of
his wife, in one of the most touching compositions in the
English language. He could not bear, he said, to leave a
dishonoured name to her and to his son, and he had determined
not to live, in order to spare them the shame. He begged
her not to remain a widow ; let her marry, not to please herself,
but in order to obtain protection for her child. For himself he
was 'left of all men,' though he had 'done good to many.' All
his good actions were forgotten, all his errors were brought up
against him with the very worst interpretation. All his 'services,
hazards, and expenses for his country,' his 'plantings, dis-
coveries, fights, counsels, and whatsoever else ' he had done,
were cov< red over by the malice of his enemies. He was now
called 'traitor by the word of an unworthy man,' who had 'pro-
claimed him ' to be a partaker of his vain imaginations, not-
withstanding the whole course of his life had 'approved the
contrary.' " Woe, woe, woe," he cries, " be unto him by whose
hood we are lost! He hath separated us asunder: he
hath slain my honour, my fortune ; he hath robbed thee of thy
husband, thy < hi Id of hi i lather, and me of you both. O God !
thou dost know my wrongs ; know then thou, my wife and
child ; know then thou, my Lord ajid Kin-, that I ever thought
them too honest to betray, and too good to conspire against.
But, my wife, forgive thou all, as I do; live humble, for thou
hast but a time also. God forgive my Lord Harry,1 i"t he was
my heavy enemy. And lor my Lord Cecil, I thoughl he would
nev< ke me 11 mity ; I would not have done it him,
God kn< II'' then went on to assure his wife thai he did
not die in despair of God's mercies. God had not left him,
1 Certainly, I think, Howard. Mr. Brewer think I < Miam.
122 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. ill.
nor Satan tempted him. He knew it was forbidden to men to
destroy themselves, but he trusted that that had reference only
to those who made away with themselves in despair.
"The mercy of God," he continues, "is immeasurable, the
cogitations of men comprehend it not. In the Lord I have
ever trusted, and I know that my Redeemer liveth ; far is it
from me to be tempted with Satan ; I am only tempted with
sorrow, whose sharp teeth devour my heart. O God, thou art
goodness itself ! thou canst not be but good to me. O God,
thou art mercy itself! thou canst not be but merciful to me."
He then speaks of the property he has to leave and of his
debts. But his mind cannot dwell on such matters. " Oh
intolerable infamy ! " he again cries out, " O God, I cannot
resist these thoughts ; I cannot live to think how I am derided,
to think of the expectation of my enemies, the scorns I shall
receive, the cruel words of the lawyers, the infamous taunts
and despites, to be made a wonder and a spectacle ! O death i
hasten thee unto me, that thou ma>est destroy the memory of
these and lay me up in dark forgetfulness. The Lord knows
my sorrow to part from thee and my poor child ; but part I
must, by enemies and injuries, part with shame and triumph of
my detractors ; and therefore be contented with this work of
God, and forget me in all things but thine own honour, and
the love of mine. I bless my poor child, and let him know
his father was no traitor. Be bold of my innocence, for God,
to whom I offer life and soul, knows it. And whosoever thou
choose again after me, let him be but thy politic husband ;
but let my son be thy beloved, for he is part of me, and I live
in him, and the difference is but in the number, and not in the
kind. And the Lord for ever keep thee and them, and give
thee comfort in both worlds ! " '
Fortunately for himself, Raleigh's attempt to fly from the
evils before him failed. He was to die after long years of
sorrow nobly borne : but he was to die no coward's death.
1 Raleigh to his wife. Printed by Mr. Brewer in his appendix to
Goodman's Court of King James I. ii. 93. Who is the daughter men-
tioned in this letter? Apparently a natural child. Does anyone know
what became of her ?
1603 RALEIGH'S TRIAL. 123
During the remainder of his imprisonment he was several
times examined, but his answers have not been preserved, with
the exception of one or two fragments, in one of which he ac-
knowledged that Cobham had offered him 10,000 crowns with
a view to engage his services in furthering the peace, but added
that he had passed the proposal by with a joke, thinking that
it had not been seriously made.
On November 1 2 he was brought out of the Tower to be
conducted to Winchester, where the trial was to take
Nov« 12.
Taken to place, in order that the persons who attended the
ter" courts might not be exposed to the plague, which was
raging in London.
He passed through the streets amidst the execrations of the
London mob. So great was their fury that Waad, the Lieu-
tenant of the Tower, who had charge of him, hardly expected
that he would escape out of the city alive. On the
1 7th lie was placed at the bar, upon a charge of high
treason, before Commissioners specially appointed, amongst
whom Cecil and Chief Justice Popham took the most promi-
nent parts.'
The prosecution was conducted by the Attorney- General,
Sir Edward Coke, with a harsh rudeness which was remarkable
even in that age, and which in the course of the pro-
llled down upon him, much to his own
it, the remonstrant 1 ; of ( !e< il.
A century later Raleigh might well have smiled at the
hi( li was brought against him. As it was,
! have had but little hope under what, in a
letter Whi< h he had written to SOmeol the Lords of the
( JoiUH il,2 he had well termed ' the< ruclty of the law of England.'
1 \ dory 00 1 in the Observations on Sander on's History, which had
frequently quoted, to the effect thai the jury, not being sufficiently
might. To this Sanderson replied in
/„ n Scurrilous /'a>»f/i/</, p. 8, thai 'il 1 dal upon the
y that the intended jury was changed 0V( might, fol lli' '
were of Middlesex, and ordered long before t<> attend at Winchester.'
2 Letter to Nottingham and other Lords in Cayley's Life of Raleigh,
ii. 11.
124 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. ch. in.
In our own days everyone who takes part in a criminal trial is
thoroughly impressed with the truth of the maxim, that a
prisoner is to be considered innocent until he is proved to be
guilty. Even the counsel for the prosecution frequently seeks
to gain a reputation for fairness by reminding the jury of the
existence of such a maxim. The judge repeats it, if necessary,
when he sums up the evidence. The able counsel whom the
prisoner is at liberty to select at his own discretion, takes good
care that it is not forgotten, while every man in the jury-box
has been brought up in a political atmosphere where it is counted
as an axiom.
How different was the course of a criminal trial in the first
years of the seventeenth century ! It was not that either the
judges or the juries of that age were inclined to barter their
consciences for bribes, or servilely to commit injustice with
iheir eyes open, from a fear of consequences to themselves.
But they had been trained under a system which completely
ignored the principle with which we are so familiar. Tacitly,
at least, the prisoner at the bar was held to be guilty until he
could prove his innocence. No counsel was allowed to speak
on his behalf, and unless his unpractised mind could, at a
moment's notice, refute charges which had been skilfully pre-
pared at leisure, the unavoidable verdict was sure to be given
against him. Such a course of proceeding was bad enough in
ordinary trials : but when political questions were involved the
case was far worse. In our own times the difficulty is to pro-
cure a verdict of guilty as long as there is the slightest flaw in
the evidence against a prisoner. When Raleigh appeared at
the bar, the difficulty was to procure an acquittal unless the
defence amounted to positive proof of innocence. The causes
Change in which led to this state of things are not difficult to
takcW comprehend. We live in days when, happily, it has
bi i ome almost impossible to conceive of a treason
which should really shake the country. Consequently, a
prisoner accused of this crime is in our eyes, at the most, a
misguided person who has been guilty of exciting a riot of un-
usual proportions. We cannot work our minds up to be afraid
of him, and fear, far more than ignorance, is the parent of
1603 RALEIGH'S TRIAL. 125
cruelty. The experience of the sixteenth century had told the
other way. For more than a hundred years the Crown had
been the sheet-anchor of the constitution. Treason, conse-
quently, was not regarded simply as an act directed against the
Government. It was rather an act of consummate wickedness
which aimed at the ruin of the nation. A man who was even
suspected of a crime the object of which was to bring the
armies of Spain upon the free soil of England could never meet
with sympathy, and could hardly hope for the barest justice.
The feelings of men were the more irresistible when the most
learned judge upon the bench knew little more of the laws of
evidence and the principles of jurisprudence than the meanest
peasant in the land.
As might he expected, the forms of procedure to which the
prevalent feelings gave rise only served to aggravate the evil.
The examination of the prisoners was conducted in
m of
criminal private. Such a system was admirably adapted for
procuring the conviction of a guilty person, because
lie was not likely to persist in denying his crime whilst his
confederates might he telling their own story against him, ea< h
in his own way. lint it by no means afforded equal chances of
ipe to the innoi ent, who had no opportunity of meeting his
accuser fa< e to fai e, or of subje< ting him to a < ross examination,
and who, if he weri ed of a State 1 rime, would find in the
examini n who were by their very position incapable of
taking an impartial view of the affair. In point of fact, tl
preliminary investigation i formed the real trial. If the aC( U
could satisfy the Privy Council of his innocence, he would at
oik e be V I at liberty. If he tailed in this, he would be brought
1 ourt from whi< h there v,.: . 1 an 1 I) a hope oi , .
1 tracts bom his own depositions and from those ol otl
Id be read before him, supported by the argumi m ■ <<t the
first lawyers of the day, who did not disdain to bring against
him the bases! insinuations, which he had at the momenl no
means of rebutting. The evil was still more increased by the
want of any real responsibility in any of the partii 1 on< 1 rn< '1.
When the previous depositions formed almost, if nol entirely,
the whole of the evident e, a jury would be likely to atta< h 1 "m
126 JAMES L AXD THE CATHOLICS. ch. in.
siderable weight to the mere fact that the prisoner had been
committed for trial. They would naturally feel a diffidence in
setting their untried judgments against the conclusions which
had been formed by men who were accustomed to conduct in-
vestigations of this kind, and who might be supposed, even if
the evidence appeared to be weak, to have kept back proofs
which for the good of the public service it was unadvisable to
publish. On the other hand, the Privy Councillors would view
the matter in a very different light. They would see in their
inquiries nothing more than a preliminary investigation, and
would throw upon the jury the responsibility which, in theory,
they were bound to feel. l Under these circumstances, trial by
jury ceased to be a safeguard against injustice. In a conjunc-
ture when the nation and its rulers are equally hurried away by
passion, or have become equally regardless of the rights of in-
dividuals, the system loses its efficacy for good.
^'ith such prospects before him, Raleigh took his place at
the bar.2 If the feeling of the time with respect to persons
The law 0f charged with political offences was likely to lead to
treason. injustice, the law of high treason, as it had been
handed down from older times, was such as to give full scope
for that injustice. In the case of ordinary crimes, it was neces-
sary to prove that the prisoner had actually taken part in the
criminal action of which he was accused. In cases of treason
it was sufficient if any one person had committed an overt act ;
all others to whom the treason had been confided, and who
had consented to the perpetration of the crime, although they
might have taken no part whatever in any treasonable action,
were held to be as much guilty as the man would have been
who actually led an army against the King.
From this state of the law arose the great difficulty which
must have been felt by every prisoner who had to defend him-
1 " Always," wrote Cecil of Raleigh, "he shall be left to the law, which
is the right all men arc born to."— Cecil toWinwood, Oct. 3, 1603, Winw,
ii. 8.
2 The account here given is based upon the report as given in Jardine's
Crim. Trials, compared with Mr. Edwards's collation in his Life of Ralegh,
i. 388.
i6o3 RALEIGH'S TRIAL. 127
self when charged with a treason in which he had not himself
taken an active share. If he had ever listened to the words of
a traitor, it would not be enough for him to prove that he had
not done anything which was treasonable. He could only
hope for an acquittal if he could show that the state of his
mind at the time when he heard the treasonable proposal was
the opposite of that which would certainly be ascribed to him
by everyone who took part in the trial. And even if by some
extraordinary chance he was able to show that he had only con-
cealed the treason without consenting to it, he was still liable
to the harsh penalties which the law inflicted upon misprision
of treason.
After some preliminary proceedings, the charges against the
prisoner were brought forward by Coke, with his usual violence,
, ,,pt:ns and with his no less usual carelessness as to the value
the trial. 0f t]lc evidence upon which he based his assertions.
He charged Raleigh with entering upon a treason which was
closely connected with that of the priests, although he was
unable to point out what that connection was. He had not
gone far before he lost his temper. Raleigh having calmly
asserted his innocence, and having offered to confess the
whole of the indictment if a single charge could be proved out of
the many that had been brought against him, he dared, in the
presence of the man whose lifelong antagonism to Spain was
notorious to every Englishman, to accuse him with being a
monster with an English face but a Spanish hear! ; and with
having plotted with Cobham to bring about the substitution of
Arabella for the King by the help of a Spanish invasion. ( >ne
night, he said, shortly after Aremberg's arrival, Raleigh was
supping with Cobham, and after supper Cobham went with
Ren/i to visit tin- Ambassador. It was then arranged thai
Cobham should go into Spain, and that he was to return by
way of Jersey, where he was to consult with Raleigh as to the
l" .t means of making use of the money which he hoped to
procure from the King ol Spain. The Attorney-General ;
ceeded to argue in favour of the probability of this story, from
Raleigh's known intimacy with Col, ham, from the letter which
he had written to say that he had cleared him in all of which
128 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. in.
he had been accused, as well as from the message which he
had sent to remind him that one witness could not condemn
him. This message would be sufficient to account for Cobham's
retractation of his accusation. Coke then proceeded to speak
of an attempt which Cobham had made to antedate a letter in
order to disprove the charge which had been brought against
him of purposing to go abroad with treasonable intentions, and
asserted, without a shadow of proof, that 'this contrivance came
out of Raleigh's devilish and machiavellian policy.' Upon
Raleigh's quietly denying the inferences, Coke broke out again :
"All that he did," he said, "was by thy instigation, thou viper;
for I thou thee, thou traitor ! I will prove thee the rankest
traitor in all England." Raleigh again protested his innocence,
and after the Chief Justice had interposed to restore the ordei
which had been broken by the Attorney-General, Coke pro
ceeded to adduce his evidence. The first document read was
Cobham's declaration of July 20, in which, after having been
shown Raleigh's letter to Cecil in which he had suggested that
Cobham's dealings with Aremberg should be looked into, he
had declared that he 'had never entered into these courses
but by Raleigh's instigation ; ' and had added that Raleigh had
spoken to him of plots and invasions, though this charge was
somewhat invalidated by Cobham's refusal to give any particu-
lar account of the plots of which he had spoken.
To this evidence, such as it was, Raleigh immediately
replied. This, he said, addressing the jury, was absolutely
all the evidence that could be brought against him. He pro-
tested that he knew nothing either of the priests' plot, or of
any design to set Arabella upon the throne. If he suspected
that there was anything passing between Aremberg and Cob-
ham, it was because he knew that they had had confidential
communication with one another in former times, and because
one day he saw him go towards Renzi's lodging. He then
appealed to the jury to consider how unlikely it was that he
should plot with such a man as Cobham. " I was not so
baie of sense," he said, " but I saw that if ever the State was
strong and able to defend itself, it was now. The kingdom of
Scotland united, whence we were wont to fear all our troubles ;
1603 RALEIGH'S TRIAL. 129
Ireland quieted, where our forces were wont to be divided ;
Denmark assured, whom before we were wont to have in
jealousy ; the Low Countries, our nearest neighbours, at peace
with us ; and instead of a Lady whom time had surprised we
had now an active King, a lawful successor to the crown, who
was able to attend to his own business. I was not such a mad-
man as to make myself in this time a Robin Hood, a Wat Tyler,
or a Jack Cade. I knew also the state of Spain well ; his
weakness and poorness and humbleness at this time. I knew
that he was discouraged and dishonoured. I knew that six
times we had repulsed his forces, thrice in Ireland, thrice at sea
— once upon our coast and twice upon his own. Thrice had I
served against him myself at sea, wherein for my country's sake I
had expended of my own property 4,000/. I knew that where
before-time he was wont to have forty great sails at the least in
his ports, now he hath not past six or seven ; and for sending
to his Indies he was driven to hire strange vessels— a thing
contrary to the institutions of his proud ancestors, who straitly
forbad, in case of any necessity, that the Kings of Spain should
make their rase known to strangers. I knew that of five and
twenty millions he had from his Indies, he had scarce any left ;
nay, I knew his poorness at this time to be such that the Jesuits,
his imps, were fain to beg at the church doors; his pride so
abated, as notwithstanding his former high terms, he was glad
to congratulate the King, my master, on his accession, and
now Cometh < reeping unto him tor pea< e." Raleigh < on< ludicl
by a erting that it was improbable either that the King of
Spain should be ready to trust large sums of money on
Cobham's bare word, or that a man of Cobham's wealth should
risk it by entering into mason. But, however that might be,
he protested that he was clear of all knowledge of any con-
spiracy against the Kr
Alter some further ai ' OH the value of Cobham's
evident e, the prisoner app< aled to the Coin'
nof 1 , ■ 1 , , 1
the necessity the < ourse Which was adopted hy t ! edition, and
,.'i,'!r'' that at least two witnesses should be pro
d in open court. It was all in vain. 'I he Chief
Justice laid down the law as it was then universally under-
VOL. I. K
i3o JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. in.
stood in Westminster Hall.1 Two statutes 2 of Edward VI.
had, indeed, expressly declared that no man could be convicted
of treason except by the evidence of two witnesses, who, if
living at the time of the arraignment, were to be produced in
court. Raleigh urged that a later statute of Philip and Mary 3
held the same doctrine. Popham answered that he had omitted
the important words which limited its operation to certain
treasons specially mentioned in the Act. By another section
of the same statute it was 'enacted that all trials hereafter to
be awarded ... for any treason shall be had and used
only according to the due order of the Common Laws of this
realm, and not otherwise.' It is highly improbable that the
legislature intended that this section should be interpreted so
as to interfere with the wholesome practice of requiring two
witnesses in cases of treason. At a later period a different
interpretation was affixed to it by the common consent of all
lawyers, who have now, for nearly two centuries, unanimously
held that the statute of Edward VI. was not repealed by the
subsequent Act. But in the early part of the seventeenth
century all lawyers, with equal unanimity, held the contrary
opinion. In 1556 the Judges had met to consult on the
meaning of the Act of Philip and Mary which had then
been recently passed, and had decided that it bound them
to fall back upon the old custom, by which they were to
be content with one accuser, who need not be produced in
court. This doctrine had been repeatedly put in practice, and
no remonstrance had proceeded from any quarter, excepting
from the unfortunate men who had suffered from its injustice.
This objection having been thus overruled, Coke proceeded
to bring forward what further evidence he had it in his power
to produce. A letter of Cobham's was read, in which
duc«?b he acknowledged that before Aremberg's arrival he
had written to him for money, and had received a
promise of four or five hundred thousand crowns. As, however,
1 See Mr. Jardine's remarks, Critn. Trials, i. 513, and Reeve's /fa/.
(J F.ng. Law, iv. 495"5o6-
"■ 1 Ed. VI. cap. 12, and 6 Ed. VI. cap. II,
3 1 & 2 Philip and Mary, cap. 10.
1603 RALEIGH'S TRIAL. 131
this appeared to be intended only to assist the progress of the
negotiations for peace, Coke was obliged to go farther in order
to prove that there had ever been any overt act of treason at
all. For Cobham, remembering that the evidence which he
gave against Raleigh might possibly be turned against himself,
had, with the single exception of the general statement, which
was made in the heat of passion, that Raleigh had spoken to
him of ' plots and invasions,' always asserted that his dealings
with Aremberg had reference solely to the negotiations. The
Attorney-General was therefore forced to content himself with
bringing forward Watson's evidence, such as it was, to the effect
that he had heard from Brooke that his brother and Raleigh
were wholly of the Spanish faction.
The confession which Raleigh had made as to Cobham's
offer of io.oco crowns ' to himself was also read, and Keymis's
Raleigh'* .animation was produced, in which he spoke of a
private interview which had taken place between
uncc- i L
Cobham and Raleigh at the time when the former was
receiving letters from Aremberg. To this Raleigh
made no reply, but he stated that Cobham's offer had been made
previously to Aremberg's arrival in England He added that he-
had refused to have anything to do with it. This had taken
place, he said, as lie and Cobham were at dinner. Cobham
had also proposed to offer money to Cecil and to Mar, to
which he had replied that he had better 'make no such offer
to them, f'-r, by God, they would hate him if he did offer it.'
Raleigh concluded by again pressing to he allowed to be
brought fa< e to fa< e with his accuser.
11 found an un d support in Cecil, who, with an
evident desire that Raleigh's wi ih might be granted, pressed
■fain the judges to declare how the law stood. They all
'.. answered that itcould nol be allowed " There must
fronted una
1 ■""• not," said Popham, "be such a gap opened for the
destruction of the King as would be if we should grant you
this . . . You plead hard for yourself, but the laws plead as
hard for the King . ■ . The accuser having firsl coi ' ed
against himself voluntarily, and so < harged another person, he
1 P. 123-
K 2
132 JAMES I. AXD THE CATHOLICS. CH. III.
may from favour or fear retract what formerly he hath said, and
the jury may by that means be inveigled."
After some further evidence of no great value had been
produced, Keymis's deposition was read, in which he confessed
Keymis's tnat ne nad carried a letter and a message from
denie<fb r Raleigh to Cobham when he was in the Tower, and
Raleigh. that he had told him that one witness could not
condemn a man. Upon hearing this deposition read, Raleigh
took the unfortunate step of boldly denying that he had ever
sent the message, or written the letter. Keymis was not the
man to have invented the story, and this unlucky falsehood of
Raleigh's must have induced those who were present to give
less weight to his protestations than they would otherwise have
done.
Once more Raleigh besought the court to allow the produc-
tion of Cobham, and, in spite of Howard's declaration that his
request could not be granted, Cecil once more supported him
by asking whether the proceedings might not be adjourned till
his Majesty's pleasure could be known. The judges coldly
answered that it could not be done.
The evidence which still remained was most irrelevant. A
pilot, named Dyer, was brought into court, who swore that
when he was at Lisbon he had been told by a Portuguese that
the King would never be crowned, as Don Cobham and Don
Raleigh would cut his throat first.
According to our ideas the case had thoroughly broken
down. Not only had there been no evidence that Raleigh had
ever heard of Cobham's purpose of employing the Spanish
money in support of Arabella's claim, but there had been none
to show that Cobham himself had ever formed such a design.
It must not, however, be supposed that on the latter point the
Government were not in possession of more satisfactory evidence
than they were able to produce in court. They had in their
hands a letter of Cobham to Arabella, in which he explained
that he had requested the ambassador's good offices with the
King of Spain in support of her title ; and two letters of Arem-
berg to Cobham, in which he promised him 600,000 crowns,
and had engaged to lay before the King of Spain his proposal
l6o3 RALEIGH'S TRIAL. 133
that the peace negotiations should be retarded and the Spanish
fleet strengthened.1 Such evidence could not be produced
in court without compromising the ambassador, but it would
have its weight with those who were aware of its existence,
even though Raleigh was not shown to have been concerned
in the matter.
Raleigh then proceeded to address the jury, begging them
not to condemn him on such evidence as that which they had
just heard. Serjeant Phelips said that the question lay between
the veracity of Raleigh and Cobham. It was Raleigh's business
to disprove the accusation, which he had failed to do. Raleigh
replied, truly enough, that Cobham had disproved his own
assertions by disavowing them.
Coke was proceeding to sum up the evidence when Raleigh
interrupted him, and asked that, as he was pleading for his life,
kaicigh he might be allowed to have the last word. The
fh^fs Attorney-General was treating this as mere insolence,
when he was checked by Cecil. Coke, unused to be
compelled to respect the feelings of a prisoner, ' sat down in a
1 The following extract from the despatch of the French amba
seems to prove the reality of Cobham's intrigue for setting up Arabella : —
"Or est-il rju'en icelle," i.e. his deposition, "ledil I obham a reconnu
'1'avoir ouvert son dessein au Comte d'Aremberg qui estoit de persuader
Madame Art* lie ainsy qu'il se publie et apperl par la lettrequ'il lui escrivil
laquelle ladite dame mil di n li mains du Roi, qu'il a demande
audit Comte la somme de 600,000 > cu pour en donner une panic aux
malcontens <le ce Royaume a im de 1 e mouvoir a se rebeller et en en-
voyer un autre en I el Irlande, qu'il s'esl offerl d'escrire luim£me au
! i pagne a fin qu'il 1 ;otiation de la paix et n t son
armee de nier attendant ' 1 1 « * - telon l eil qu'il avoit pris il pul I
d'aller a Spa conferer avec I'archiduc, passer en 1 pot 1
donner plus di ce sa foi et de son credit, que sur toutes ces ch<
ledit < lomte I'avoil n mi nl ■ - iuti ma conforte\ di courai
s'enqueranl avec lui <\<-, moyens de let faire r< u ii \ qu'il lui avoit con
donnc parole de 600,000 cscus, et ce pai deus lettr iielh 1 je cai
[dans?] lea mains da Roi, el que pour le retardemenl de la n<
de la paix, et de l'armee de me) donneroil avis au plustol en I
pagne." Beaumont to the King of France, ■„ov' ' ' 1603. /
124, fol. 577
134 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. ch. in.
chafe,' and was only induced to proceed by the entreaties of
the Commissioners.
After going over the depositions which had been read, he
produced a letter which had been written only the day before
Cobham's by Cobham to the Commissioners. " I have thought
theCo°. i* ^t'" ^e wretched man had written, " in duty to my
missioned. Sovereign, and in discharge of my conscience, to set
this down to your Lordships, wherein I protest, upon my soul
to write nothing but what is true, for I am not ignorant of my
present condition, and now to dissemble with God is no time.
Sir Walter Raleigh, four nights before my coming from the
Tower, caused a letter inclosed in an apple to be thrown in at
my chamber window, desiring me to set down under my hand
and send him an acknowledgment that I had wronged him, and
renouncing what I had formerly accused him of. His first
letter I made no answer to. The next day he wrote me
another, praying me for God's sake, if I pitied him, his wife
and children, that I would answer him in the points he set
down, informing me that the judges had met at Mr. Attorney's
house, and putting me in hope that the proceedings against me
would be stayed. Upon this I wrote him a letter as he desired.
I since have thought he went about only to clear himself by
betraying me. Whereupon I have resolved to set down the
truth, and under my hand to retract what he cunningly got
from me, craving humble pardon of His Majesty and your
Lordships for my double-dealing.
"At the first coming of Count Aremberg, Raleigh persuaded
me to deal with him, to get him a pension of 1,500/. from Spain
for intelligence, and he would always tell and advertise what
was intended by England against Spain, the Low Countries, or
the Indies. And coming from Greenwich one night he told
me what was agreed between the King and the Low Country-
men, that I should impart it to Count Aremberg. But for this
motion of 1,500/. for intelligence I never dealt with Count
Aremberg. Now, as by this may appear to your Lordships,
he hath been the original cause of my ruin, for but by his
instigation I had never dealt with Count Aremberg. So also
hath he been the only cause of my discontentment, I never
1603 RALEIGH'S TRIAL. 135
coming from the court, but still he filled me with new causes
of discontentment. To conclude : in his last letter he advised
me that I should not be overtaken by confessing to any
preacher, as the Earl of Essex did, for the King would better
allow my constant denial than my accusing any other person,
which would but add matter to my former offence."
Never did any man appear more bewildered than Raleigh
when he heard this letter read. As soon as he could recover
Raleigh himself, he drew another letter from his pocket.
This was the one which had been written in the
Tower by Cobham in reply to the urgent requests
which had been conveyed to his cell by means of the apple
thrown in at the window. In spite of Coke's objections it was
read, at Cecil's request, to the following effect : —
" Now that the arraignment draws near, not knowing which
should be first, I or you, to clear my conscience, satisfy the
world with truth, and free myself from the cry of blood, I pro-
test upon my soul, and before God and His Angels, I never
had conference with you in any treason, nor was ever moved by
you to the things I heretofore accused you of, and, for anything
I know, you are as innocent and as clear from any treasons
against the King as is any subject living. Therefore I wash my
hands, and pronounce with Daniel,1 ' Funis sum a sanguine
Ziujus,' and God so deal with me, and have mercy upon my
:l as this is true."
I' , however, brought to confess, that although it
untrue that he had moved Cobham to pro< ure him a pen-
sion, yet he COUld not deny that Cobham had men
'• • 1 ■ 1 • mi • r ...
tioned it to him. I ins confession, coming alter his
:.il mad'- at Windsor, of having known anything of any plot
tween Cobham and Aremberg, and his subsequent letter in
which he based his suspicions of Cobham simply upon In.
knowledge ol the interview with Ken/i, was calculated to do
considerable damage t<> his cause. It was now evidenl tli.it
Raleigh had. to say the least of it, not been telling the
whole truth. The jury t! , after a short con-
sultation of fifteen minutes, brought in a verdict of Guilty,
1 The ' wise young judge' of the History of Susanna, 46.
136 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. in.
Sentence of death was pronounced by Popham, who probably
thought he was standing on a ground of moral superiority in
inveighing against the atheistical and profane opinions which
he, in common with the rest of the world, believed Raleigh to
have entertained.
If we once admit the principle, upon which the jury tacitly-
acted, that it was the prisoner's business to prove himself to be
_ . , innocent, the whole trial resolves itself into a question
Question of l
Rakighs 0f character. Difficult as it is for us to acknowledge
innocence. .... . .
it, it is not improbable that, with the jury, Raleigh's
character for veracity stood as low as Cobham's. That this
was unjust to Raleigh we know full well. We have oppor-
tunities of knowing what he really was which very few of his
contemporaries enjoyed. The courtiers and statesmen with
whom he mingled knew only his worst side, and their evil
report was exaggerated by rumour as it spread over the
land.
With unerring judgment posterity has reversed the verdict
of the Winchester jury. That Raleigh was innocent of planning
a Spanish invasion of England, needs no proof to those who
know how deeply hatred to Spain had sunk into his soul,
babi ^t^> bowever, there is something that needs explana-
expianation tion. Raleigh was evidently not anxious to tell the
of the facts. & . \
whole truth. It is almost impossible to avoid the
conclusion that he knew more of Cobham's plans than he chose
to avow. That he even heard of the scheme of placing Arabella
upon the throne, or of the Spanish invasion, may be doubted.
Brooke's testimony of what his brother said is worthless ; and
Cobham, at least till after his own conviction,1 never directly
charged him with it. The most that he said was that Raleigh
had spoken to him of plots and invasions. On the other hand,
it was acknowledged by all that he had offered Raleigh bribes
to engage in forwarding the peace. The story which was told
by Raleigh of the manner in which he rejected the offer has the
appearance of truth. But is it certain that he was not acquainted
with more than he liked to say of Cobham's further intercourse
with Aremberg ? Was it only on the two occasions on which
1 He did then. Cobham's Confession. Nov. 22, S. P. Dom, iv. 91.
1603 WAS RALEIGH INNOCENT? 137
money was offered that Raleigh heard anything of the secret
with which the whole mind of his companion was filled ? It
was from Raleigh's presence that Cobham went with Renzi to
Aremberg's lodgings. On another occasion Raleigh was ' below
in the hall with Lord Cobham when Renzi delivered a letter
from Aremberg,' and afterwards ' the Lord Cobham took Sir
Walter Raleigh up into his chamber with him in private.' Is it
to be believed that they went there in order to converse on in-
different subjects ? Even the two apparently antagonistic letters
from Cobham which caused so much astonishment at the trial
are not so discrepant as they at first sight appear. In one
Cobham asserts that Raleigh had not instigated him to commit
treason. In the other he asserts that Raleigh had professed his
readiness to accept a pension from Aremberg, to be the price
of a betrayal of court secrets, and that this suggestion had first
brought him into communication with the ambassador, and so
had indirectly caused his ruin. Both these statements may very
well have been true. Raleigh cannot have been in a gentle
humour on that night when he came home from Greenwich,
after seeing his rivals in the enjoyment of the sweets of power.
" If it is to come to this," we can fancy his saying to Cobham on
his return, " one might as well be a pensioner of Spain at once." '
He may even have thought that, as it was certain that there was
to be a peace with Spain, he might at least make money by for-
warding that whirh he could not prevent. Of course this is
mere guesswork, but it is aguess which would sufficiently account
for all that followed. Hi < ddenly is called before the ' !oun< il,
and on the spur of the moment denies all knowledge of( !obham's
proceedings. Then, after he has gone away, he reflects that
sooner or later what had happened must come to light, and he
knows that he has had no real part in the treason. I [ewrites tin-
letter to Cecil, and Cobham is arrested and lodged in the Tower.
Upon this he remembers what the English law is, makings man
an offender for a thought, far more for a word, and instin< lively
• At his subsequent trinl Cobban ^ai>l that Raleigh 'once propounded
to him a means for the Spaniards to Invade England ' by sending an army
to Milford Haven. — Carleton to Chamberlain, Nov. 27, Court and 'J'imcs
of James I. i. 19. This may have been true as speculative talk.
133 JAMES I. AXD THE CATHOLICS. ch. in.
turning to the one object of stopping Cobham's mouth, he sends
Keymis to him to do what he can. Alas ! he had forgotten that
Cobham might see the letter which had been written to Cecil.
Cobham does see it, bursts into a rage, and accuses Raleigh of
things of which he had never dreamed. There is nothing for
it now but to deny all, to state boldly that Keymis had lied as
well as Cobham, to hide as long as possible the second offer of
a pension, to declare that he had never committed a venial error,
lest those accursed lawyers should torture it into the foulest
crime.
If Raleigh's trial is remarkable for the distinct enunciation
by the judges of the harsh principles which were then in repute
i ressio amongst lawyers, it is equally worthy of memory,
upon the as giving the first signal of the reaction which from
spectators. ,^ ,., ... ,...,
that moment steadily set in in favour of the rights
of individuals against the State. Many a man, who came to
gloat over the conviction of a traitor, went away prepared to
sympathise with the prisoner who had defended himself so well
against the brutal invectives of Coke.
Two days before this trial, Brooke, Markham, Copley, and
another confederate named Brooksby, with the two priests
Watson and Clarke, were convicted of high treason.
Nov. 15. °
Trial of the Before the end of the week Cobham and Grey were
prisoners. also convicted before a court composed of thirty-one
peers, in which the Chancellor presided as Lord
Steward. In Cobham's defence there was no dignity
or self-respect Grey displayed conspicuous ability. When,
after the verdict had been given, he was asked whether he could
say anything in arrest of judgment, he candidly acknowledged
that he had nothing to allege. " Yet," he added after a pause,
"a word of Tacitus comes into my mind, '-Non eadem omnibus
decora? The House of Wilton hath spent many lives in their
prince's service, and Grey cannot beg his. God send the
King a long and prosperous reign, and to your lordships all
honour." l
1 Carleton to Chamberlain, Nov. 27 ; Cecil to Parry, Dec. 1, Court
and Times of James I., i. 14, 17.
1603 EXECUTIONS AND REPRIEVES. 139
Ten days later the two priests were executed, and in a
Nov. 29. week's time they were followed by Brooke, who died
i utionof declaring that all that he had said was true, with the
W auon and ° , '
Clarke, exception of the charge which he had brought against
Defc' 6' his brother of wishing that the fox and his cubs were
and of °
Brooke. taken away.1
With respect to the other prisoners, the King refused to
listen to any requests made to him, either by those who were
desirous to save them, or by others who were anxious
that they should be executed. At last, after some
consideration, he determined to take a course by
which he might have the benefit of hearing what their last con-
ions were, without putting any of them to death. Warrants
were accordingly issued for the execution of Cobham, Grey,
and Markham on December 10. The Bishop of
Chichester was appointed to attend upon Cobham,
and the bishop of Winchester upon Raleigh, in hopes of ex-
tracting a confession at least from one of them. Both adhered
to their former statements. On the appointed day the three
were brought out for execution one alter the other, but alter
each had made his declaration, he was sent down from the
scaffold, in pursuance of an orderwhich arrived from the King.
Even when in instant expectation of death Cobham persisted
in his assertion of Raleigh's guilt* At last they were all told
th«- Km,; had countermanded the execution, and had
granted them their lives. Raleigh, whose exe< Ution had been
d for a 1 also informed that he was reprieved
With Grey and Cobham he was committed to the Tower.
Markham, I rid Brooksby wen- ordered to quit the
kingdom.' Raleigh's personal property, which had been t"i
n to Chamberlain, I ><c. 1 1, Court and Times ofjamet /. , i. 27.
Cecil to Win wood, Dec. 12, Wimv, ii. 10.
how. 1 no cowardice on 1] Id, it has often been mp«
I -I that he knew he was not to die ; th< 1 hand, tin- 1 icpl ination
I have adopted -•■< In . mon "i fam<
' Markham took lerrice in the Arclxluke's army, and at the same
time acted as a spy for the English Government.
i4o JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. III.
feited by his attainder, was restored to him.1 Of the manor of
Sherborne, all that fell into the King's hands was the interest
which Raleigh retained in it during his life, as he had executed
a conveyance shortly before the death of Elizabeth, by which
he assigned the estate to trustees for the benefit of his wife
and child, though reserving the profits to himself during his
own life. This life-interest was granted by James to two per-
sons nominated by himself, to be held in trust for the benefit
of Lady Raleigh and her son.2
From the disclosures made by the prisoners concerned in
Watson's plot, James had learned that the conspiracy which
Fear of had been detected formed but a small part of the
Jesuit plots, dangers t0 which he had been exposed. Watson
had declared that the Jesuits were engaged in a plot which he
believed to be connected with their hopes of a Spanish inva-
sion. Nor was this an unfounded assertion. The movements
which Watson perceived were caused by the preparations made
by Catesby and his friends to receive the army of the King
of Spain, if he should send a favourable answer to their re-
quest.
Just at the time when James might well have felt anxious,
Dr. Gifford arrived from Flanders, as the bearer of assurances
A from the Nuncio at Brussels of the strong desire of
Proposals the Pope to keep the English Catholics from insur-
through the rection. The satisfaction felt by James at this an-
Kr^ssdis and nouncement was increased by the reception of a letter
Pans. from Sir Thomas Farry, the English ambassador in
France,3 in which he announced that he had received a mes-
sage from Del Bufalo, the Nuncio in Paris, to the effect that
he had received authority from the Pope to recall from Eng-
land all turbulent priests. Del Pufalo further offered to
James that if there remained any in his dominions, priest or
1 Grant to Shelbury and Smith, Feb. 14, 1604. Rymer's Fcedera,
xvi. 569.
2 Grant to Brett and Hall, July 30, 1604. S. P. Docqnet.
8 Degli Effetti to Del Bufalo, ^"g; 2,4' Roman Transcripts, R. 0.
i6o3 NEGOTIATION WITH THE PAPAL NUNCIO. 141
Jesuit, or other Catholic, whom he had intelligence of for a
practice in his State which could not be found out,
upon advertisement of the names he would find
means to deliver them to his justice by ecclesiastical cen-
sures.
To this communication Cecil replied by asking that the
Nuncio should put his offer into writing. Del Bufalo, however,
being unwilling to commit himself, preferred to ask
thTnegotFa- for the appointment of a person to treat with him in
Paris. After some delay he was informed by Parry
that James wished the Pope to send to England a layman
with whom he might informally communicate, and to give
authority to persons named by himself, to recall turbulent
Catholics from Kngland on pain of excommunication.1 Parry
was also t: plai e in the Nuncio's hands a copy of Sir James
Lindsay's instructions, in order that the bearer, who was at last
about to start for Rome, might not be able to enlarge upon
them. About the same time another deputation of
James ■
runewihU Catholics waited upon the Council, having, in all
nces 1 1 • , • 1 1 11 1 • 1111
probability, been alarmed lest their cause should be
injured by the detection of the late conspiracies.
They were assured that the King would keep his word, and
that the fines would not be cn;i< ted.8 Janus, it appeared, had
made up his mind, and had resolved to accord toleration to
1 tholi< laity. How far this toleration was to be extended
to the 1 was another matter, on which, as yet, he had
entered into no ement
In de< iding this que -non James wa 1 no doubt mu< h at the
men dental occurrences. Anything which gave him
personal an ould have considerable influence on his
policy; air for the Catholi< 1, before many week \
ed, Jam nnoyi d.
In the course of the summ< t Sir Anthony Standen had be< n
' Del Bufalo to the Kins, Sept. ^ ; Del Bufalo to Aldobrandino,^/wa«
Transcriptst A'. 0.} Jami to !'. ny, in Tiemey'a Dodd. iv. App. p. Ixvi.
ami Hatfield MSS. 120, fol. 150; Parry to Cecil, h\\^. 20; Cecil to
Tarry, Nov. 6, .V. /'. France.
- Petition ApologctLal, p. 27.
142 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. ch. ill.
sent by James on a mission to some of the Italian States. He
was himself a Catholic, and was eager to take part in
July. * _
standees the grand scheme for reconciling England to the See
mission. 0f Rome> Hq urged upon the Pope the importance of
sending an agent to England, to discuss with the King the points
in dispute between the Churches, and he suggested that the
Sept. mediation of the Queen might produce good effects.
The Queen Anne of Denmark, in fact, though she attended the
secretly a . °
Catholic. Protestant services, was secretly a Catholic, so iar
at least as her pleasure-loving nature allowed her to be of any
religion at all, and she took great delight in the possession of
consecrated objects.1
While Standen was in Italy he entered into communication
with Father Persons, who induced the Pope to employ the
messenger to carry to the Queen some objects of
objeasTent devotion, and who himself wrote through the same
medium to some priests in England. Standen was
not the man to keep a secret, and he had scarcely arrived in
England when he was arrested and lodged in the
T £rt
standen ' Tower. The presents from the Pope were subse-
imprisoned. qucntly returned, through the Nuncio in Paris.2
James was particularly annoyed at the discovery of this
clandestine correspondence with his wife. With some difficulty
he had induced her to receive the communion with
,,"> him at Salisbury, but she had been much vexed with
Queen' herself since, and had refused to do it again. On
Christmas day she had accompanied him to Church, but since
then he had found it impossible to induce her to be present at
a Protestant service. Standen, it now seemed, had arrived to
thwart him. He dismissed several of the Queen's attendants
who were suspected of having come to an understanding with
1 Degli Effetti to Del Bufalo, June ^, - ; Persons to Aldobrandino,
Sept. ^g, Roman Transcripts, R. 0.
2 Villeroi to Beaumont, ^°*- 2? ; Cecil to Parry, Jan. 24 and Feb. 4 ;
S. P. France, Del Bufalo to Aldebrandino, Nov. — , Roman Transcripts,
R. 0.
1604 NEGOTIATION WITH THE PAPAL NUNCIO. 143
Standen, and he ordered her chamberlain, Lord Sidney, the
brother of Sir Philip, and himself a decided Protestant, to be
assiduous in his attendance on the duties of his office.1
Before the impression made upon James by this untoward
affair had worn away, the Nuncio received from Rome an
The Pope answer to the proposal made by James, that a person
excommu- should be invested with the power of excommuni-
fenTcatho-11' catmg turbulent Catholics. This scheme had been
I'"- warmly supported by the Nuncio at Paris. But it
was not one to which the Pope could give his assent. To ex-
communicate Catholics at the bidding of a heretic prince was
contrary to all the traditions of the Church, and Del Bufalo
was therefore informed that James could not be gratified in this
particular. Nor could anyone be sent to England as a represen-
tative of the Pope, for fear lest he might be drawn into political
contests in which France or Spain would be interested on one
side or the other.2
That James should take umbrage at this refusal of the Pope
to comply with his wishes, was only to be expected. He had,
, however, other reasons for reconsidering his position
towards the English Catholics. As might have been
expe< t( d, SUM e the weight of the penal laws had been
removed, there had been a great increase in the activity of the
< latholic missionaries. In less than nine months after Eliza-
beth's death no less than 140 priests had landed in England, and
the converts made by them were very numerous,3 though many
1 Information given to I'd Bufalo by a person leaving England on
Jan. — , Roman 7 , A'. O.
2 So I interpret the Pope' note on Del Bufalo'a despatch of Dec —
(Roman Tran 0.) : ' Quanto alia facolta di cbiamare sotto pena
di scomunica i turbolenti, non d pai da darla per adesso, perche trattia
con Heretici, olo di perdere i licuri, b1 come non ci par
che il Nuntio debba premere nellacosa di mandai noi personaggio, perche
dubitiamo che c^ ata gelo ia ti l randa e Spagna non intra limo
in grandissima difficolta. E meglio aspettare la conclusione della Pace
secondo noi, perche 1 sapiamo che chi mandassimo fosse per usarla
prudentia necessaria.'
3 Dec. — , Roman Transcripts, R. O.
144 JAMES I. AND THE CATHOLICS. CH. ill.
who stayed away from church now that they could do so with
impunity, would doubtless have frequented the services if there
had been no penalties to fear. Some months before James
had given orders that a list of the recusants in each county
should be drawn up. ' When the returns came in, the increase
of the numbers of the Catholics was placed beyond doubt.2
It was inevitable that such a position of affairs should sug-
gest to the Government the propriety of reverting to the old
measures of repression. Urged by the Privy Coun-
Thepro- cil,3 and hesitating in his own mind, James, on
forTh"°r February 22, issued a proclamation ordering the
of?hehment banishment of the priests by March 19. The day
priests. fixed was that of the meeting of Parliament, and it is
not unlikely that the desire to anticipate awkward questions in
the House of Commons had something to do with the King's
resolution. There was at least nothing in the proclamation
inconsistent with the policy which he had announced before
leaving Scotland. Toleration to the laity combined with a
treatment of the clergy which would place a bar in the way
of extensive conversion was the programme which James had
then announced, and which he was now attempting to carry
out.
It was not a tenable position. The flow of the tide of
religious belief could not be regulated to suit the wishes of any
Government, and James would find that he must either do more
or less than he was now doing. We need not speak harshly of
him for his vacillation. The question of the toleration of the
Catholics was not one to be solved by a few elegant phrases
1 This is referred to as if it had been news from England, Nov.—, Roman
Transcripts, R. O. ; but I suppose it is only the order given on June 30,
which is printed in Wilkins's Cone. iv. 368.
1 Only the return from Yorkshire has been preserved, and has been
printed by Mr. Peacock. A List of the Roman Catholics in the County of
York in 1604.
3 James said to the Spanish ambassador : ' Che quelli del Consiglio
gli havevano fatto tanta forza che no haveva potuto far altro, ma che no si
sarebbe esseguito con rigore alcuno.' — Del Bufalo to Aldobrandino,
March — , Roman Transcripts, R. 0.
i6o4 THE DIFFICULTY OF TOLERATION. 145
about religious liberty. In wishing to grant toleration to those
from whom he differed, James was in advance of his age, and
it is no matter of astonishment if he did not see his way more
clearly. It was no slight merit in a theological controversialist,
such as James, to be unwilling to use compulsion if it could
possibly be avoided.
vol. 1.
146
CHAPTER IV.
THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE AND THE PARLIAMENTARY
OPPOSITION.
Consciousness of strength is the necessary condition of tolera-
tion. Whatever tended to weaken the English Church would
i6c3. postpone the day when those who regarded her
Divisions in wjth devotion could bear with equanimity the attacks
the English , ,. .
Church. directed against her by the Catholics. It was only
natural that the Catholics themselves, who aimed not at tolera-
tion but at supremacy, should see the position of affairs in a
different light.
Blackwell, the Archpriest, was overjoyed at the news that
the Puritans and their adversaries were struggling with one
another for the favour of the new King. " War between the
heretics," he gleefully wrote, "is the peace of the Church."1
That strife in which Blackwell rejoiced, all who were not under
the influence of Blackwell's Church were anxious to end.
Unfortunately those who wished the Church of England to be
strengthened, differed as to the means by which so desirable
an object was to be attained. There were some who thought
that the Church would grow strong by the silencing of all who
wished to deviate from its rules. There were others who
believed that their relaxation would promote a nobler unity.
Foremost amongst these latter stood Bacon, the great political
thinker of the age. " I am partly persuaded," he wrote,
"that the Papists themselves should not need so much the
severity of penal laws if the sword of the Spirit were better
edged, by strengthening the authority and repressing the abuses
1 Blackwell to Farnese, Nov. — , Roman Transcripts, R. 0.
1603 BACOX OX THE UXITY OF THE CHURCH. 147
of the Church."1 Bacon found the root of the matter to
consist in spiritual freedom under the guardianship of law.
Place must be found in the ministry of the Church for all
who were willing to fight the good fight, unless they shook
off all bonds by which men were enabled to work together.
'The silencing of ministers,' he held, was, in the scarcity of
good preachers, ' a punishment that lighted upon the people as
well as upon the party.' " It is good," he wrote, "we return
unto the ancient bonds of unity in the Church of God,
which was, one faith, one baptism ; and not, one hierarchy,
one discipline ; and that we observe the league of Chris-
tians, as it is penned by our Saviour Christ, which is in sub-
stance of doctrine this: 'He that is not with us is against
us ;' but in things indifferent and but of circumstance this :
' He that is not against us is with us.'"
If these words do not solve the difficulties of Church dis-
cipline for a time when there are differences of opinion on
questions of faith as well as on questions of ceremonial, they
were admirably suited to the circumstances of the moment.
It was a time when it behoved every Protestant Church to close
its ranks, not by the elimination of those who differed from
some arbitrary standard of conformity, but by welcoming all
who based their faith on the belief that truth was t<> be gained
l>y search and inquiry.
In dedicating this treatise to James, Bacon laid his views
lief -re a man who was by no means incapable of appro iating
1 them. James's mind was large and tolerant, and he
avi ■ 1 to the language ol sectarian fanaticism.
In his behaviour during the early months of his reign
then- w< re< na iii.it he had pond< red Bacon's advi< 1 .
Jam< had oon !«•< ome aware thai in the relation 1 1
Puritan, the Hum h there was a problem to be solved as
NVviii ,cnt difficult as ,1,;,t of ll,u toleration of the ( "atholi-
in- soon as Elizabeth's death was known, Archbishop
Whitgift despatched NeviU, the Dean of Canterbury,
to Edinburgh, m order to make himself acquainted with the
1 ' ' rtain Considerations touching the better Pact/Nation and Edifi .
of the Chinch of England^ Bacon's Letters mul /.if, \.\. 103.
1. 2
14S THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE, cil. iv.
sentiments of the new King. The messenger was soon able to
leport, joyfully, that James had at least no intention of establish-
ing Presbyterianism in England.
On his progress towards London, James was called
m ,,., upon to listen to an address of a very different na-
The Mil- ...
lenaiy ture. A petition,1 strongly supported by the Puritan
clergy, was presented to him, in which their wishes
were set forth.
The petition was very different from those which had been
drawn up early in Elizabeth's reign, in which the abolition of
Proposed Episcopacy and the compulsory introduction of Pres-
the P^aye" byterianism had been demanded. It contented itself
Book. with asking for certain definite alterations in the
existing system. In the Baptismal Service interrogations were
no longer to be addressed to infants ; nor was the sign of the
cross to be used. The rite of Confirmation was to be discon •
tinued. It had been the practice for nurses and other women
to administer baptism to newly-born infants in danger of death.
This custom was to be forbidden. The cap and surplice were
not to be 'urged.' Persons presenting themselves for Com-
munion were to undergo a previous examination, and the
Communion was always to be preceded by a sermon. ' The
divers terms of priests and absolution, and some other used,'
were to be 'corrected.' The ring was no longer to enter into
the marriage service, although it might be retained in private
use, as a token given by the husband to his wife.2 The length
Commonly called the Millenary Petition, because it purported to
proceed from 'more than a thousand ministers.' It was said by Fuller
(Ch. Hist. v. 265), and it has often been repeated, that only seven hun-
dred and fifty preachers' hands were set thereto. The fact seems to have
been that there were no signatures at all to it. The petitioners, in a
Defence of their Petition, presented later in the year (Add. MSS. 8978)
distinctly say, ' Neither before were any hands required to it, but only
consent.' They probably received only seven hundred and fifty letters of
assent, and left the original words standing, either accidentally or as be-
lieving that the sentiments of at least two hundred and fifty out of those
who had not come forward were represented in the petition.
2 This explanation is adopted from the Defence before mentioned
(fol. 36 b.)
1603 THE MILLENARY PETITION. 149
of the services was to be abridged, and church music was to be
plainer and simpler than it had hitherto been. The Lord's
day was not to be profaned, and, on the other hand, the people
were not to be compelled to abstain from labour on holydays.
Uniformity of doctrine was to be prescribed, in order that all
popish opinions might be condemned. Ministers were not to
teach the people to bow at the name of Jesus ; and, finally, the
Apocrypha was to be excluded from the calendar of the lessons
to be read in church.
These demands could not, of course, be granted as they
stood. If the clergy alone were to be consulted, a large number
would be found among them who would view these matters
with very different eyes. The great mass of the laity, especially
in country parishes, would be equally averse to the change.1
Any attempt to enforce the alterations demanded would have
stirred up opposition from one end of the country to the other.
The difficulties were enormous, even if the bishops had been
inclined to look them fairly in the face. Still, something might
have been done if they had been animated by a conciliatory
spirit. By a little fair dealing, the peace of the Church would
have be<n preserved far better than by any rigid enactments.
That a very different spirit prevailed can cause us no astonish-
ment To the Elizabethan party some of the proposed changes
seemed to be absolutely injurious, whilst others were only
try in order to meet scruples whi< h appeared to them to
urd.
I remaindi t of the petition was occupied by requests,
iter part ol which 1 d the serious consideration oi
all parties. The petitioners hoped thai none should hereafter
be admitted to the ministry who were unable to preach; that
such of these who were already admitted should be compelled
1 In An Abridgement of that Book which the Ministers of Lincoln
to Hi ■'■ 1605, p. 19, it is urged, in favour <>f
abolishing the ceri , 'lint 'many of the people in all parts of the
land arc known to be ol this mind, that the ai rami 10I rightly and
sufficiently ministered without them.' The conclu ion drawn was thai
such cen hi nol to be allowed to exist, because theii use was
detrimental to those who placed an idolatrous value upon them.
150 THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE, ch. IV.
to maintain preachers ; and that a check should be put on the
abuse of non-residence. It was asked that ministers
Proposed , ..... ,
reforms in should not be required to testify by their subscription
oftheCip " " to the whole of the substance of the Prayer Book,
but that it should be sufficient if they subscribed
to the Articles and to the King's Supremacy. With respect
to the maintenance of the clergy, the petitioners suggested
that the impropriations annexed to bishoprics and colleges
should hereafter be let only to those incumbents of livings who
were able to preach, and who were at no future time to be
called upon to pay any higher rent than that which was
demanded at the time when the lease was first granted.
Impropriations held by laymen might be charged with a
sixth or seventh part of their worth for the maintenance of a
preaching ministry. They also asked for reforms in the ec-
clesiastical courts, especially that excommunication should
not be pronounced by lay Chancellors and officials, and that
persons might not be ' excommunicated for trifles and twelve-
penny matters.' l
The spirit in which this petition was met was not such as
to give any hope of an easy solution of the difficulty. The
Universities were the first to sound the alarm. Cam-
Answer by .
the jjni- bridge passed a grace forbidding all persons within
the University from publicly finding fault with the
doctrine or discipline of the Church of England, either by word
or writing, upon pain of being suspended from their degrees.
Oxford came forward with a violent answer to the petition.2 If
the Universities could have won their cause by scolding, the
Puritans would have been crushed for ever. They were accused
by the Oxford doctors of factious conduct in daring to disturb
the King with their complaints. They were told that they were
men of the same kind as those who had so often stirred up
treason and sedition in Scotland, and that as for their eagerness
to preach, it would have been a happy thing if the Church of
1 Collier, vii. 267.
■ The Answer of the Vice-Chancellor, the Doctors, with the Proctors
and other Heads of Houses in the University of Oxford, &c. 1603. The
Cambridge Grace is quoted in the epistle dedicatory.
1603 JAMES URGES REFORMS. 151
England had never heard anything of their factious sermons or
of their scurrilous pamphlets.
Their demands were treated with that cool insolence which
scarcely deigns to argue with an opponent, and which never
attempts to understand his case. It was taken for granted that
no concessions could be made by the King unless he were
prepared for the establishment of Presbyterianism, and it was
argued that the hearts of the people would be stolen away from
their Sovereign by preachers who would be sure to teach them
that the King's 'meek and humble clergy have power to bind
their King in chains, and their Prince in links of iron, that is
(in their learning) to censure him, to enjoin him penance, to
excommunicate him ; yea (in case they see cause) to proceed
against him as a tyrant.'
In the beginning of July, James astonished the Universities
by recommending them to adopt one of the proposals of the
petitioners. He informed them that he intended to
James pro- '
poses that devote to the maintenance of preaching ministers
the Univer- ... , , . . ,
hail such impropnate tithes as he was able to set aside
ling for the purpose, and that he hoped that they would
follow his example.1 Whitgift immediately took
alarm and drew up a statement for the King of the incon-
veniences which were likely to result.2 Nothing more was
heard of the matter. The Universities were left in peace, and
the King never found himself in a condition to lay aside money
for any purpose whatever.
Another Step had already been taken, which shows that
James had felt the weight of the latter part of the petition. On
v 12 a circular was sent round by Whitgift to the Bishops,
demanding an account of the number of preachers in theii
tive dio< ese& This was followed on June 30 by another
letter, requiring still more particular information.' 'liny were
to report on the numb' r oi < ommunii ants and of re< usants in
every parish, and were also to give a number of particulars
1 King to Chancellor! <>f the Universities, Wilkins's Cone. iv. 369.
King to Heads of Houses, S. /'. Dam.ii.fi>
■> Whitgift to King, .V. /'. Dam. ii. 39.
3 Wilkins's Cone iv. 368.
152 THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE. CH. IV.
respecting the clergy sufficiently minute to serve as a basis for
any course which might remedy the alleged evils.
There was much in all this to raise the hopes of the Puritan
ministers. James appeared ready to remove abuses in spite of
Sept. the opposition of those who thought them to be no
Touching abuses at all. In the course of September a scene
for the . L
Kings evil, took place which showed him to be desirous of look-
ing with his own eyes into matters on which the minds of
ordinary Englishmen had long been made up. When he first
arrived in England James had objected to touch for the king's
evil. He had strong doubts as to the existence of the power
to cure scrofulous disease, which was supposed to be derived
from the Confessor. The Scotch ministers whom he had
brought with him to England urged him to abandon the practice
as superstitious. To his English counsellors it was a debasing
of royalty to abandon the practice of his predecessors. With
no very good will he consented to do as Elizabeth had done,
but he first made a public declaration of his fear lest he should
incur the blame of superstition. Yet as it was an ancient usage,
and for the benefit of his subjects, he would try what would be
the result, but only by way of prayer, in which he requested all
present to join.1 In after years he showed less hesitancy, and
Shakspere could flatter him by telling not only how Edward
had cured the sick by his touch, but how he had left ' the
healing benediction ' to ' the succeeding royalty.' 2
During the course of the summer, the Puritans attempted
to support their views by obtaining signatures to petitions circu-
lated among the laity.3 A proclamation was issued in conse-
quence, commanding all persons to abstain from taking part in
such demonstrations, and giving assurance that the King would
not allow the existing ecclesiastical constitution to be tampered
with, though at the same time he was ready to correct abuses.
1 Letter from England, '(ep-' * ' 1603. Information given by a person
leaving England on Jan — , 1604, Roman Tra7iscriptst R. 0.
2 Macbeth, iv. 3.
3 Whitgift and Bancroft to Cecil, Sept. 24, 1603, S. P. Dom. iii. 83,
and Fuller, v. 311.
1603 THE PURITANS AT THE CONFERENCE. 153
In order to obtain further information on the points in dispute,
lie had determined that a conference should be held in his
presence between certain learned men of both parties. No
one, he said, could be more ready than he was to introduce
amendments wherever the existence of real evils could be
proved. l
After several postponements, the antagonists met at Hamp-
ton Court on January 14. On the one side were summoned
the Archbishop of Canterbury, eight Bishops, seven
Jan. i4. Deans, and two other clergymen. The other party
fcrence"" Wcre represented by Reynolds, Chaderton, Sparks,
and Knewstubs. These four men had been selected
by the King, and he could not have made a better choice, or
one which would have given more satisfaction to the moder-
ate Puritans. To the proceedings of the first day
1 he first . , -
they were not admitted. 1 he king wished first to
argue with the Bishops, in order to induce them to
The Puri- b . . . l ' ... . .
•:x- accept a variety of changes, which were in the main
such as Bacon would have approved.
On the second day the case of the complainants was heard.
Reynolds commenced by urging the propriety of altering some
points in the Ani< les, and proposed to introduce
On. into them that unlucky formulary which is known
?he0cnodrnday ''>' tl,c name of the Lambeth Articles, by which
Whit-lit had hoped to bind the Church of England
to the narrowest and most repulsive form of Calvin
istic doctrine, and thus to undo the work of Elizabeth, who
had wisely stifled it in its birth. Reynolds then proceeded to
demand that the grounds upon which the rite ol Confirmation
ed ihould be reviewed. This was more than Bancroft
could bear. He was at this time Bishop ol London, and was
generally r< the man who was to succeed Whitgifi
the champion ol the existing system. He even wenl beyond
the An hi. 1 hop, I publicly declared his belief thai the
1 iscopal constitution of the Church was of Divine institutioa
In defending the > entrusted to him, he overstepped all
the bounds of decency. Interrupting the speaker, he knelt
1 Wilkins's Cone. iv. 371.
154 THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE. CH. iv.
down before the King and requested ' that the ancient canon
might be remembered,' which directed that schismatics were not
to be listened to when they were speaking against their Bishops.
Bancroft's ^ there were any there who had ever subscribed
interruption, t0 t^Q Communion Book, he hoped that a hearing
would now be refused to them, as an ancient Council had once
determined ' that no man should be admitted to speak against
that whereunto he had formerly subscribed.' He then pro-
ceeded to hint that, in being allowed to speak at all, Reynolds
and his companions had been permitted to break the statute
by which penalties were imposed on all persons depraving the
Book of Common Prayer. He concluded by quoting a pas-
sage from Cartwright's works, to the effect that men ought
rather to conform themselves ' in orders and ceremonies to the
fashion of the Turks, than to the Papists, which position he
doubted they approved, because, contrary to the orders of the
Universities, they appeared before his Majesty in Turkey gowns,
not in their scholastic habits sorting to their degree.'
The insolent vulgarity of this specimen of episcopal wit was
too much for James. Although he fully agreed with Bancroft
reproitd 'n n's dislike of Reynolds's arguments, he could not
by James. ^ut fmcj fau]t wjtn ^im for hjs unseasonable interrup-
tion. The two parties then proceeded to discuss the disputed
points as far as they related to questions of doctrine. On the
whole, James showed to great advantage in this part of the
conference. He had paid considerable attention to matters of
this kind, and the shrewd common sense which he generally
had at command, when he had no personal question to deal
with, raised him above the contending parties. On the one
hand, he refused to bind the Church, at Reynolds's request, to
the Lambeth Articles ; on the other, in spite of Bancroft's ob-
jections, he accepted Reynolds's proposal for an improved
translation of the Bible.
The question of providing a learned ministry was then
brought forward, and promises were given that attention should
be paid to the subject. The Bishop of Winchester complained
of the bad appointments made by lay patrons. Bancroft, who
treated the whole subject as a mere party question, took the
1604 JAMES AND THE PURITANS. 155
opportunity of inveighing against the preachers of the Puritan
school, who were, as he said, accustomed to show their dis-
respect of the Liturgy by walking up and down ' in the church-
yard till sermon time, rather than be present at public prayer.'
The King answered, that a preaching ministry was undoubtedly
to be preferred ; but that ' where it might not be had, godly
prayers and exhortations did much good.' "That that may be
done," he ended by saying, " let it, and let the rest that cannot,
be tolerated."
The remaining points of the petition were then brought
under discussion. Unless the Puritans have been much mis-
The King's represented,1 their inferiority in breadth of view is
£'t"wein the conspicuous. If James had been merely presiding
parties. ovcr a scholastic disputation, his success would have
been complete. Put, unfortunately, there were arguments
which he could not hear from any who were before him. He
was not called upon to decide whether it was proper that the
ring should be used in marriage, and the cross in baptism.
What he was called upon to decide was whether, without taking
into consideration the value of the opinions held by either
party, those opinions were of sufficient importance to make it
necessary to close the mouths of earnest and pious preachers.
Except by Bacon, this question was never fairly put before
him. The Puritans wished that their views should be carried
out in all parts Of England,9 and when they were driven from
this ground they could only ask that respect should be paid to
the const 11 t the weak, a plea which did not come with
1 With the exception "f a lettei of Matthews printed in Strype's
Whit, ft, App. xlv. , ami of Galloway's in CaIderwood,vi. 241, and another
of Montague's t" his mother, Win;.', ii. 1 ;, out only authority is Barlow's
Sum of the 1 H ed with mi repn entation, ami
he evidently did injustici i" the Puritan arguments which were distasteful
to him, and which he did not understand. But if In- had introduced any
actual n entation, we should certainly have had a mor<
account from the other ide. After all, if the arguments of the run
have been weakened, it I ble to find elsewh "ger
proofs of I'.ancroft's deficiencies in t* mper and 1 haracter.
2 The clause in the petition which relates to the cap and surplice is the
only one which seems to ask for permission to deviate from an established
order, instead of demanding a change of the order.
156 THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE, ch. iv.
a good grace from men who had been anxious to bind the
whole body of the English clergy in the fetters of the Lambeth
Articles.1
The debate which had gone on with tolerable fairness since
Bancroft's interruption, received another tifrn, from a proposal
made by Reynolds, that the Prophesyings should be restored.
The restoration of these meetings had been deliberately recom-
mended by Bacon, as the best means for training men for the
delivery of sermons. It is doubtful whether James could have
been brought to allow them under any circumstances, but
Reynolds did not give his proposal a fair chance. He coupled
it with a suggestion, that all disputed points which might arise
during the Prophesyings should be referred to the Bishop with
his Presbyters. At the word Presbyters James fired up. He
told the Puritans that they were aiming ' at a Scottish
His anger ■; " .
at the men- Presbytery, which,' he said, ' agreeth as well with a
word°'Pres- monarchy as God and the devil.' "Then Jack and
Tom, and Will and Dick, shall meet, and at their plea-
sure censure me and my Council and all our proceedings. Then
Will shall stand up, and say, ' It must be thus ; ' then Dick shall
reply, and say, ' Nay, marry, but we will have it thus.' And,
therefore, here I must reiterate my former speech, le Roi s'avi
sera. Stay, I pray you, for one seven years, before you demand
that from me, and if then you find me pursy and fat, and my
windpipes stuffed, I will perhaps hearken to you ; for let that
government be once up, I am sure I shall be kept in breath ;
then shall we all of us have work enough, both our hands full.
But, Doctor Reynolds, until you find that I grow lazy, let that
alone."
From his own point of view James was right. Liberty
brings with it many advantages, but it certainly does not tend
to enable men in office to lead an easy life. Yet natural as it
1 The King's reply is crushing, merely regarded as an argumeiitum
ad hominem. He asked, 'how long they would be weak? Whether
forty-five years were not sufficient for them to grow strong ? Who they
were that pretended this weakness, for we require not now subscription
from laics and idiots, but preachers and ministers, who are not now I trow
to be fed with milk, but are enabled to feed others.'
1604 RESULT OF THE CONFERENCE. 157
must have seemed to him to give such an answer as this, in two
minutes he had sealed his own fate and the fate of England for
ever. The trial had come, and he had broken down. He had
shut the door, not merely against the Puritan cry for the accept-
ance of their own system, but against the large tolerance of Bacon.
The essential littleness of the man was at once revealed. More
and more the maxim, " No Bishop, no King," became the rule
of his conduct. The doctrines and practices of the Bishops
became connected in his mind with the preservation of his own
power. He was gratified by their submissiveness, and he looked
upon the views of the opposite party as necessarily associated
with rebellion.
At the moment, the self-satisfaction of the controversialist
predominated even over the feelings of the monarch. " If this
be all they have to say," he observed as he left the room, " I
shall make them conform themselves, or I will harry them out
of the land, or else do worse."
The impression produced upon the bystanders was very
different from that which later generations have received. One
who was present said, that 'His Majesty spoke by inspiration
of the Spirit of God.' ' Cecil thanked God for having given
the King an understanding heart. Ellesmerc declared that he
nrv.-r before understood the meaning of the legal maxim that
est mixta persona cum saccrdote. It is usual to ascribe
■ ■ ;md similar expressions to the courtier-like facility of
giving utterance to flattery. In so doing, we forget that these
were fully persuaded thai lame, was doing right in resist-
ing the demands of the Puritans, and thai men are very ready
to forget the intemperate form in which an opinion may be
clothed, when the substance is a< < ording to their mind.
Two day. later, the Kin^ again met the Bishops, and
agreed with them upon certain alterations which were to be
Third da/i made in the Prayer Book, It was also determined
conference. t}iat Commissions should be appointed for inquir-
ing into the best mode of obtaining a preaching clergy. The
' Barlow ascribes this speech t< > one of the lord , Sir J. Ilnrin
who was also present, assigns it to a Bishop. At the next meeting Whit-
gift repeated it.
158 THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE. CHs IV.
Puritans were then called in, and were informed that, with a
few exceptions,1 the practices which they had objected to would
The decision De maintained, and that subscription would be en-
announced. forceci to the whole of the Prayer Book, as well as to
the Articles and to the King's Supremacy. Chaderton begged
that an exception might be made in favour of the Lancashire
clergy, who had been diligent in converting recusants. The
King replied that as he had no intention of hurrying anyone,
time would be given to all to consider their position ; letters
should be written to the Bishop of Chester, ordering him to
grant a sufficient time to these men. A similar request, how-
ever, which was made on behalf of the Suffolk clergy was re-
fused.
The conference was at an end. Browbeaten by the
Bishops, and rebuked in no measured or decorous language 2
by James, the defenders of an apparently hopeless cause went
back to their labours, to struggle on as best they might. Yet
to them the cause they defended was not hopeless, for no
doubt ever crossed their minds that it was the cause of God,
and it would have seemed blasphemy to them to doubt that
that cause would ultimately prevail. Nor were they deprived
of human consolation : many hearts would sympathise with
them in their wrongs ; many a man who cared nothing for
minute points of doctrine and ritual, and who was quite
satisfied with the service as he had been accustomed to join in
it at his parish church, would feel his heart swell with indig-
nation when he heard that men whose fame for learning and
piety was unsurpassed by that of any Bishop on the bench,
had been treated with cool contempt by men who
Jan. 18. , ,..,., .
were prepared to use their wit to defend every abuse,
and to hinder all reform.
James went his way, thinking little of what he had done,
1 The proclamation giving public notice of this determination was
issued on March 5, Rymer, xvi. 574 ; for the alterations themselves see
565.
2 There can be no doubt that many of the excrescences have been cut
off in Barlow's narrative from the King's speeches. The coarse language
used by James is noticed in Nitga. Ant. i. 181.
1604 DEATH OF WHITGIFT. 159
and scarcely remembering what had passed, except to chuckle
over the adversaries whom he had so easily discomfited by his
logical prowess. x The Bishops too imagined that their victory
was secured for ever, and rejoiced in the overthrow of their
opponents. But there was at least one among them
Whitgift , , •
feels who felt that their success was more m appearance
okimate ° than in reality. The aged Whitgift, whose life had
^ been passed in the heat of the conflict, discovered
the quarter from which danger was to be apprehended. He
hoped, he used to say, that he might not live to see the meet-
ing of Parliament. He was at least spared that misfortune.
A few weeks after the conference, his earthly career was at an
end. While he was lying in his last illness, the King came to
visit him. He found the old man lying almost insensible, but
Feb. 29. able to mutter a few words. All that could be heard
Hislaat was < pr0 ecclesiix Dei: pro ecdcsiii Dei.' Narrow-
w.,rr!s and ' '
death. minded and ungentle by nature and education, he
had provoked many enemies ; but he at least believed that he
was working for the Church of God.
Parliament, the very name of which had caused such
anxiety to Whitgift, was a very different body from those re-
,, . presentative assemblies which still existed upon the
Han hi'j.1 . '
The 1 [li h Continent the mere shadows of their former selves.
Many causes concurred in producing this difference.
But the main < ause lay in the success with which England
If had grown up into a harmonious civilisation, so that its
Parliam< nl was the true representative of a united nation, and
not a mere arena in which contending factions might display
their strength.
1 The King t < j Northampton, Ellis, 3rd ser. iv. 161. Here and elsc-
wh< re d t" be written to an otherwise unl nown Mr. Blake.
It U printed as beginning 'My faithful Blake, I dare nol say, faced 3,1
which is mere nonsense, [n the original MS. the word i 'blake,' not
commencing with a < ipital letter, 3 k alwaj thi cyphei i"i Northam]
in Jame pondence. What I no doubt ' My faithful
black, I dare n"t say (Mack) faced Northampton.1 Northampton had, I
suppose, objected to being called blackfaced. 'Blake' is equivalent \>>
'Hack.' In Spotti woode, for instance, the name of the St. Andrcwcs'
preacher, David Black, is printed Wake.
160 THE HAMPTON COURT CONFERENCE, ch. IV.
Where this process of amalgamation has not been com-
pleted, parliamentary government, in the true sense of the
word, is an impossibility. When Louis XIV. astonished the
world by declaring that he was himself the State, he was un-
awares giving utterance to the principle from which he derived
his power. In the France of his day, it was the monarch alone
who represented the State as a whole, and, as a natural con-
sequence, he was able to trample at his pleasure upon the
bodies in which nothing higher was to be seen than the repre-
sentatives of a party or a faction. If a representative assembly
is to succeed in establishing its supremacy over a whole country
equal to that which is often found in the hands of an absolute
monarch, it must first be able to claim a right to stand up on
behalf of the entire nation. The position which was occupied
by the House of Commons at the close of the reign of
Elizabeth, was due to the complete harmony in which it stood
with the feelings and even with the prejudices of all classes of
the people.
The right of representing the people was practically con-
fined to the higher classes, who alone could afford the ex-
pense of a residence in Westminster. But in scarcely a single
instance did they owe their election, at least ostensibly, to
their equals in rank. To secure a seat, it was necessary to
obtain the favour of those whose interests were more or less
different from their own. County members were dependent
upon their poorer neighbours, who formed the mass of the
forty-shilling freeholders. The borough members, with all the
habits and feelings of gentlemen, were equally dependent upon
the shopkeepers of the towns for which they sat. Originally,
the right of voting in the boroughs had been vested in the
resident householders ; but this uniformity had given way
before the gradual changes which had passed over the several
boroughs. In some places, the franchise had been consider-
ably extended ; in others, it had been no less considerably
narrowed. One member was chosen by almost universal
suffrage ; another, by a close corporation consisting of the
most respectable and intelligent inhabitants. In the smaller
boroughs, indeed, the selection of a representative was practi-
1604 THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. 161
cally in the hands of the most influential amongst the neigh-
bouring proprietors ; but even the form of an election pre-
vented him from nominating persons who would be altogether
distasteful to those whose votes he wished to secure. The
effect of this was that, except in the case of agricultural
labourers, who were, perhaps necessarily, altogether excluded
from the suffrage, all class legislation was impossible.
Another change, which had been silently introduced, was
of still greater importance. The old rule had been relaxed,
which forbade any member to sit for a place in which he was
not a resident. If this rule had continued in force, the House
would still have represented the popular will, but it would have
been sadly deficient in intelligence and ability. Some evil, no
doubt, resulted, and persons obtained seats who only owed
them to the good-will of a neighbouring proprietor ; but this
was as nothing in comparison with the advantage which arose
from the introduction into the House of a large body of men
of ability, recruited especially from amongst the lawyers, who
became known to the electors by the talent which they dis-
played at the bar. The services which this class of men
rendered to the cause of freedom were incalculable. The
learning of the ablest lawyers in the sixteenth century may
have been small in comparison with the stores of knowledge
which may be acquired in our own day ; but, relatively to the
.el of education, it stood far higher. A few years
of Parliamentary statesmen would begin to arise
from amongst the country gentlemen ; but, as yet, almost all
pretensions to tnanship were confined to the council
table and its supporters. For the present, the burden oi the
conflict iu the Commons lav upon the lawyers, who at once
gave to the stnr. linst the Crown that Stron] I
charai tet which it never afterwards l".t.
It was to • hi. in as the representative of a united
nation that, above all other i ■■■ i . the Hous< "I Commons
'1 its growing desire to take a prominenl part in
nai love the guidance oi tlie nation. In struggling against
the Catholics, indeed, the Government "t Elizabeth
had been armed by Parliament and by public opinion with
VOL i. M
i62 THE PARLJ AM EXTARY OPPOSITION. CH. IV.
extraordinary powers ; but those powers had been required to
resist the foreign enemy far more than the English Catholics
themselves, who had suffered most from their exercise. Ac-
cordingly, a much smaller amount of repression had been
needed than would have been required if the nation had been
divided against itself. Yet even this repression had left results
behind it which were likely to give much trouble. Institutions
have a tendency to survive the purposes to which they owe
their existence, and it was only natural that James should claim
all the powers which had once been entrusted to Elizabeth.
On the other hand, it was unlikely that he would be allowed
to retain them without a struggle. There was no imminent
danger, which made men fear to weaken the Government even
when they disapproved of its action.
Between the Crown and the House of Commons the House
of Lords could only play a subordinate part. It had no longer
The House sufficient power to act independently of both. For
of Lords. trie present it was, by sympathy and interest, attached
to the Government, and it acted for some time more in the
spirit of an enlarged Privy Council than as a separate branch
of the legislature. It is in its comparative weakness that its
real strength consists. If it had been able to oppose a barrier
to the Crown, or to the Commons, it would have been swept
away long ago. It has retained its position through so many
revolutions because it has, from time to time, yielded to the
expressed determination of the representatives of the people ;
whilst it has done good service more by the necessity which
it imposes upon the House of Commons of framing their
measures so as to consult the feelings of others besides them-
selves, than by the labours in which it has been itself em-
ployed.
On January u, 1604, a proclamation was issued calling
upon the constituencies to send up members to a Parliament.
Prociama- ^n this proclamation, James gave his subjects much
good advice, which would now be considered super-
summoning D ' *
Parliament, fluous. He recommended them to choose men fitted
for the business of legislation, rather than such as looked to a
scat merely as a means of advancing their private interests. In
1604 MEETING OF PARLIAMENT. 163
respect to religion, the members should be neither ' noted
for superstitious blindness one way,' nor 'for their turbulent
humours ' on the other. No bankrupts or outlaws were to be
chosen ; and all elections were to be freely and openly made.
Thus far no great harm was done. But the remainder of the
proclamation, which owed its origin to the advice of the
Chancellor, was sure to rouse the most violent opposition.
The King ordered that all returns should be made into
Chancer)-, where, if any 'should be found to be made contrary
to the proclamation,' they were ' to be rejected as unlawful and
insufficient.' '
On March 19 the Parliament met. Men felt that a crisis
was at hand. Never had so many members attended in their
Parliament places.2 They came not without hopes that they
would not return home until they had been allowed
■veep away at least some of the grievances of which they
complained.
Since the last Parliament had met, one change had taken
place which distinctly marked the altered relations which were
to subsist between the Crown and the House of Common
Elizabeth had always taken care that at least one of her
principal statesmen should occupy a place amongst the repre
sentatives of the people. During the latter yeai \ of her reign
this duty had devolved upon Cecil. The Secretary was now
removed to the House oi Lords, and he left none but
nd rate officials behind him. With the exception oi Sir
John Herbert, the second, or, as we should say, the Undei
retary, a man of very ordinary abilities, not a single Privy
I incillor had a seat in the House. Sir Julius Caesar, Sir
Thomas Fleming, Sii Henr Montague, and a few others who
I minor ol'fi< es u 11 < ! < 1 ( ri tV( mmi tit, or hoped 5
day to be promoted to them, wire all respectable men, but
1 Pari. Hi (. i. 967. 1 < the pro* Ian
in the Egerton Papers, 384 : one is in l hand ; the
on it, ii. i 'l he latter n!<mc < ■ (bi the
reference of disputed elections t" ( hancery, showing that this assum]
inated with him.
- I. [uencej additi '. J. i. 141.
M 2
164 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. ch. IV.
there was not one of them, who was capable of influencing the
House of Commons.
There was, however, one man in the House who might have
filled Cecil's vacant place. At the commencement of this session,
Sir Francis Sir Francis Bacon stood high in the estimation of his
Bacon. contemporaries. Two boroughs had elected him as
their representative. His fellow-members showed their appre-
ciation of his abilities by entrusting him with the greatest share in
their most weighty business. Scarcely a committee was named
on any matter of importance on which his name did not occur,
and he generally appeared as the reporter, or, as we should say,
the chairman, of the committee. If a conference was to
be held with the House of Lords, he was almost invariably put
forward to take a leading part in the argument. Nor is this
to be wondered at ; not only were his transcendent abilities
universally recognised, but at this time all his opinions were in
unison with those of the House itself. Toleration in the Church
and reform in the State were the noble objects which he set
before him. If James had been capable of appreciating Bacon's
genius, the name of the prophet of natural science might have
come down to us as great in politics as it is in philosophy.
The defects in his character would hardly have been known, or,
if they had been known, they would have been lost in the great-
ness of his achievements. For the moment, as far as his parlia-
mentary career was concerned, he was borne onwards on the full
tide of success. His errors and his fall were yet to come. It
is true that his conduct at the trial of Essex had shown that he
was not possessed of those finer feelings which might have
saved him from many of his greatest mistakes ; but, excepting
to the friends of Essex himself, that conduct does not seem to
have given offence. Excess of submission to Elizabeth was a
fault to which Englishmen were disposed to be lenient, and the
limits within which public duty ought to overrule private friend-
ship were drawn at a very different line from that which they at
present occupy. Yet with all this, he was a dissatisfied man.
He had now reached the mature age of forty-four, and he had
long been anxious to be in a position from which he might
carry out the great policy which he knew to be necessary for
1604 THE LEADERS OF THE COMMONS. 165
the well-being of the nation. The new King had looked coldly
upon him. It is sometimes said that his share in the condem-
nation of Essex had told against him. But that James con-
tinued to feel respect for the memory of Essex is, to say the
least of it, very problematical. However this may have been,
there were other obstacles in his path. Bacon always believed
that Cecil was envious of his talents. It is not improbable
that the practical statesman regarded his cousin as a visionary ;
and Cecil had the car of the King. Bacon retained, indeed,
the title of King's Counsel, and he drew the salary, such as it
was ; but he was not admitted to any participation in the affairs
of government.
Next to Bacon, no man enjoyed the confidence of the
House more than Sir Edwin Sandys. Without any pretensions
sir Edwin to Bacon's genius, he possessed a large fund of
Sandys. common sense. The friend and pupil of Hooker, he
was no Puritan ; but, like so many others amongst his contem-
poraries, he had learned to raise his voice for the toleration of
those with whom he did not wholly agree.
Of the other members, there are few who deserve especial
mention. Nicholas Fuller was there, full of Puritan zeal — a
_ _ r hasty and, in some respects, an unwise man. 1 lake-
will, will tor), who in a former Parliament, when the list of
ri.e' monopolies was read, had (ailed out to know if bread
were among them ; Thomas Wentworth, whose father
had suffered for his resistance to arbitrary power in the late
reign ; the two Hydes, and a few others, made up a little knot
ot men who would not allow their voices to rest as long as the
of the nation were unredressed.
Through some mistake, tin- Con ins were not present
when the King came down to the House ol Lords to open the
,on. lam. ,, d( nous that they should hear Ins
The King's views to an his own hps, repeated to them the spi 1 1 n
speech. wji|( ^ |R. |U(| .,]rL..,(|y ,\,.\lv, ,, ,] m the L'p|" 11 I tOUSC
He told them that he was unable to thank them suiiK iently for
the ready welcome which he had met with on his journey into
England. He had brought with him two gifts, which he trusted
that they would accept in pla< e of many words : one was | eace
1 66 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION, ch. iv.
with foreign nations — the other was union with Scotland. To
the Puritans he declared himself decidedly opposed, not because
they differed from him in their opinions, but because of ' their
confused form of policy and parity ; being ever discontented
with the present Government, and impatient to suffer any
superiority, which maketh their sect unable to be suffered in
any well-governed commonwealth.' As to the Papists, he had
no desire to persecute them, especially those of the laity who
would be quiet. Since his arrival, he had been anxious to
lighten the burdens of those amongst them who would live
peaceably, and he had been looking over the laws against them
in hopes that ' some overture ' might be ' proposed to the pre-
sent Parliament for clearing those laws by reason ... in case
they have been in time past further or more rigorously extended
by the judges than the meaning of the law was, or might lead to
the hurt as well of the innocent as of the guilty persons.' With
respect to the clergy, as long as they maintained the doctrine
that the Pope possessed ' an imperial civil power over all Kings
and Emperors,' and as long as they held that excommunicated
sovereigns might be lawfully assassinated, they should not be
suffered to remain in the kingdom. Although the laity would
be free from persecution they would not be allowed to win over
converts to their religion, lest their numbers should increase so
as to be dangerous to the liberties of the nation and the inde-
pendence of the Crown. As to the laws which were to be made
in Parliament, he said, " I will thus far faithfully promise unto
you that I will ever prefer the weal of the body of the whole
Commonwealth, in making of good laws and constitutions, to
any particular or private ends of mine, thinking ever the wealth
and weal of the Commonwealth to be my greatest weal and
worldly felicity — a point wherein a lawful King doth directly
differ from a tyrant ... I do acknowledge . . . that whereas
the proud and ambitious tyrant doth think his kingdom and
people are only ordained for the satisfaction of his desires and
unreasonable appetites, the righteous and just King doth by
contrary acknowledge himself to be ordained for the procuring
of the wealth and prosperity of his people." It remained to be
seen how far James's wisdom could embrace all the wants of his
1604 CASES OF SHERLEY AXD GOODWIN. 167
people, and how far his temper could stand under the annoy-
ances to which he would be subjected as soon as they ventured
to oppose him.
Some time was to elapse before the Commons were able to
devote their attention to those important questions relating to
the Catholics and the Puritans on which James had expressed a
decided opinion.
Upon their return to their own House two cases of privilege
came before their notice. One of these brought up the old
question of the freedom of members from arrest,
though in the present case it was complicated by a
further question as whether such a privilege ex-
tended to them before the day of the meeting of Parliament. Sir
inns Sherley, the member for Steynine, had been,
March 15. . . - ' , .
after his election, lodged in the Fleet, at the suit of a
City tradesman. The House claimed his presence as a member,
and he took his seat on May 15. This success, how-
ever, was not obtained without much difficulty. It
was not until the Warden of the Fleet had been committed not
only to the Tower, but to the dungeon known by the expressive
name of Little Base, and the intervention of the King himself
had been obtained, that he consented to liberate the prisoner.
It is gratifying to know that the filthy condition in which the
>n was found was 1 ft u il '1 to tin- House on the ground
that it had not been used tor many years'.1
The other case was ofmui h greater importance, as it at on< e
• the I! in spite of itself, into collision with the
:win's Crown. Sir Iran- I I dwm had b 1 ted for
kinghami hire, where he owed his seat to the votes
of the smaller freeholders, his opponent, Sir John Fortescue, a
Privy Councillor, having been supported by the gentry of the
< ountry. In at 1 ordam <: with the King's pro< lamation, the ' lourt
of Cham ery had de< lared tin- ele< tion void, on the ground thai
t, odwin was an outlaw; and upon a second election, I "i
tescuehad been chosen to the place which was thus supposed
to be vacant. On the day after the matter had been moved
1 C. J. passim from March 22 to May 22, i. 149-222.
i68 THE PARLIAMENTAR Y OPPOSITION. CH. iv.
in the House, Goodwin was summoned to the bar, and, as
soon as his case had been heard, he was ordered to take his
seat.
A few days afterwards the Lords sent a message to the
Commons, asking for information on the subject. At first the
Commons refused to grant their request, as being un-
constitutional ; but, upon a second message, inform-
ing them that the demand had been made at the King's desire,
they agreed to a conference in order to justify themselves. In
this conference they stated that, from the omission of certain
technicalities in the proceedings taken against him, Goodwin
was not an outlaw in the eye of the law ; and that, even if he
were, they could produce instances in which outlaws had taken
their seats in the House. The King, in replying to them, took
the whole affair out of the region of forms and precedents, and
raised a question of constitutional law, which was a
T^rthf28' matter of life or death to the Commons. " He had no
tacks the purpose," he told them, "to impeach their privilege,
of the but since they derived all matters of privilege from
him, and by his grant, he expected that they should
not be turned against him. ... By the law, the House ought
not to meddle with returns, being all made into Chancery, and
are to be corrected or reformed by that court only into which
they were returned." He then proceeded to argue against their
assertion that an outlaw could take his seat, and advised them
to debate the question and to confer with the judges.
As soon as these expressions were reported to the House,
the members knew that it was impossible for them to give way.
Whatever might be the advantages of bringing ques-
tions of disputed elections before a regular and im-
partial tribunal (if such a one could be found), they knew that
to yield the point to the King was equivalent to abdicating their
independent position for ever. Without any settled design,
James had simply proposed to make it possible for himself, or
for a future sovereign, to convert the House of Commons into
a board of nominees.
It is impossible to refrain from admiring the prudence of the
House in this difficulty. Mainly under Bacon's guidance they
16C4 RETURXS TO BE JUDGED BY THE HOUSE. 169
threw aside all unimportant parts of the question, and restricted
their opposition to the main point. They appointed
Commons a committee to draw up a reply to the King, and,
at the same time, brought in a Bill to disable out-
laws»from sitting in Parliament for the future.
On April 3 the Committee, with Bacon at its head, carried
up the answer of the Commons to the Upper House, and
requested that it might be laid before the King.
They showed that they had always decided in cases
of disputed election, and they denied that they had come pre-
cipitately to a conclusion in the present instance. They refused
to confer with the judges.
Two days after this the King informed them that he had as
great a desire to maintain their privileges as ever any prince
had, or as they had themselves. He had seen and
considered of the manner and the matter, he had
heard his judges and council, and he was now distracted in
judgment ; therefore, for his further satisfaction, he desired and
commanded, as an absolute king, that there might be a confer-
ence between the House and the judges, in the presence of his
council, who would make a report to him.
The Commons again gave way on the point of etiquette.
There were signs that it was only thus that they could secure
unanimity. Some of the members were frightened at James's
tone. "The Prince's command," said Velverton, "is like a
thunderbolt; his 1 ommand upon our allegiance is like the
roaring of a lion."
This <li 1 with the judges, however, never took pi
James acknowledged to the committee whi<h had drawn up
..„. the reply of the I louse, that it was the proper judge
ot the returns. Hut he asked the Commons, as a
persona] favour, to set aside both the parties, and to issue a
writ for a new m. It i, no disparagement to them that
they gave way oik e more. They < ould not suffer a ^reat c ause
to be wrecked upon a question of etiquette. It was well
known that Goodwin was not anxious to retain his seat. He
had even attempted, at the election, to indin e the electors to
transfer their votes to Fortescue. To satisfy those members
i;o THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. iv.
who were reasonably jealous of compromising the dignity of
the House, a letter was obtained from Goodwin, declaring his
readiness to submit to the arrangement.1
That the substantial advantage remained with the Commons
is evident from the fact that they proceeded, without opposi-
tion, to investigate two other cases of disputed election. Both
the King and the House had come with credit out of the con-
troversy. Unhappily it did not follow that a similar spirit of
compromise would be shown when questions arose which in
volved a difference of principle.
Meanwhile, neither House had been idle. The Commons,
especially, were bent on doing work. Questions of reform,
Grievances which had been left untouched during the life of
whiuired Elizabeth, were now ripe for solution. All had felt
redress, the indelicacy of pressing her for changes which she
would have considered to be injurious to her rights. She had
served England well enough to be humoured in her old age.
But that obstacle having been removed, the representatives of
the people approached these questions in no disloyal or
revolutionary spirit They did not force their demands upon
James because he was weaker than his predecessor. If he
had been the wisest and ablest of rulers, they would still have
asked him to make the redress of grievances the first act of his
reign.
One of the first steps taken by the Government was to
introduce a Bill recognising James's title to the throne, in order,
March 29. by acknowledging the principle of hereditary right,
Recognition t0 „jve a [ma\ \,\irK to any claims which might be
of James s o ' °
t'tl,:- put forward by the representatives of the Suffolk line.
As a proof of loyalty, the Bill was hurried through both Houses
with all possible expedition. It was read for the first time in
the House of Lords on March 26, and on the 29th it had
reached a third reading in the Commons.
On the same day as that on which this Bill was brought in,
Cecil moved for a conference with the Lower House on the
subject of the abuses of Purveyance. During the discussion
1 C. J. i. 149 -169; Pari. Hist. i. 998-1017 ; Bacon's Letters and
Life, iii. 164.
I504 PURVEYANCE. 171
in the House of Lords on this motion, a message was brought
up from the Commons asking for a conference, in order that
March 26. a petition might be drawn up upon the subject of
andWarf* Wardship. The feudal system was dead, and its
relics were cumbering the ground. The abuses of Pur-
veyance had come down from the days of the first Norman
sovereigns. When each little district was self-supporting, the
arrival of the King's court must have seemed like the invasion
of a hostile army. Even if the provisions consumed had
been paid for, the inhabitants would have had much diffi-
culty in replacing their loss. But it frequently happened that
they were taken without any payment at all. The time came,
at last, when other powers made themselves heard than that
of the sword ; and when the representatives of the towns
joined the knights and barons in Parliament, this was one
of the first grievances of which they complained. Session
after session new remedies were assented to by the King, and
statutes were passed with a frequency which gives too much
reason to suspect that they were broken as soon as made. At
first the Commons contented themselves with asking that pur*
hould be prohibited from appropriating to their own
use money which they had received from the Exchequer
luittal of debt, contracted in the performance of
their duty.1 I v. i nty-two years later they had risen in their
lands, and obtained an assurance that nothing should be
taken without the assent of the owner.5 In the reign of
I rard 111. various statutes were made upon the subject.
At one time the Kin^ promised thai nothing should be taken
without the ownei nta At other tunes he agreed that
the purcha i be appraised by the constable and four,
dis< reet m< n of the neighbourhood ' Purveyors who gave 1<
than the pri ted by the town, to be put
in gaol, and, upon conviction, to be dealt with as common
' 3 Ed I. stat. West. 1. rap. 32.
- 25 Ed. I. stat. de Tallagio, cap. 2.
' 14 Ed. III. stat. 1, cap. 19.
• 4 Ed. in. cap. 3; 5 Ed. III. cap. 2 ; 25 Ed. III. cap. 1; 36
Ed. III. cap. 2.
172 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. IV.
thieves. In the reign of Henry VI. it was even declared that
all persons had a right of openly resisting the offenders.
In spite of these, and many other similar statutes, the
grievances complained of still continued unabated. The
Bin brought Commons drew up a Bill declaring the illegality of
iheafb'u"es of these abuses, but, at the same time, that there might
purveyors. be no complaint against their proceedings, they pre-
Aprii27. pare(i a petition in which they proposed to lay their
Petition to L ' . . , ,
the King. Case before the King. They assured him that they
had no wish to infringe upon his rights, but the grievances of
which they complained had been declared to be illegal by no
less than thirty-six statutes. They alleged that the cart-takers,
whose business it was to find carriage for the King's baggage
whenever he moved, were guilty of the grossest abuses in
order to put money into their own pockets. They would often
order the owners of eight or nine hundred carts to send them
in, when two hundred would be sufficient. By this means they
hoped that bribes would be offered them by the owners, who
would all be anxious to obtain their discharge. Those who
were unable or unwilling to pay were often detained for a week
before they were allowed to go. Twopence a mile was allowed
to those actually employed, which was calculated upon the
distance which they had travelled to the place of loading,
whilst nothing at all was given for their actual service, or for
the return journey. After some hundreds of persons had
bribed the officers for exemption, the remainder of the inhabi-
tants of the county were required to make up the full number
of carts. What was worse still, the cart-takers were frequently
in the habit of selecting tired horses, in the expectation that
the owners would be ready to pay money to let them go.
The purveyors themselves were quite as bad. Instead of
paying for goods according to the appraisement, they were
accustomed to call in strangers of their own choice to make a
second valuation, and often forced upon the owners a mere
fraction of the sum really due. They frequently refused to
pay in ready money, and they committed to prison the con-
stables who assisted those who stood out against their illegal
proceedings. In the teeth of the prohibition of the law, they
1 604 PUR VE YANCE. 1 73
would cut down the trees round a country gentleman's mansion.
Even justices of the peace had been imprisoned for hearing
cases against purveyors, although the law expressly required
them to take cognisance of such matters.1
James answered that he was desirous to remove all causes
of complaint ; but that he believed arrangements had been
The King's made by which such cases could not possibly recur,
answer. jje wjshed, however, that the Commons would confer
with the Council on the matter. Some of the officers of the
household, who were standing by, declared that all com-
plaints were invariably listened to, and that justice was always
done.
A few days after this interview, another attempt was made
to obtain the co-operation of the Lords. It is characteristic of
the different spirit which prevailed in the two Houses,
r that the Lords proposed a Sunday as the best day
for the ronfcrence.2 The Commons requested them
to fix upon some other day, as they were determined not to do
any business on the Sabbath. With respect to the proposed
measure, the Lords showed no mercy to the purveyors, whom
they spoke of as harpies. But on a most important point there
was a wide difference of opinion. The Commons held that, as
the abuses of which they complained were illegal, the King
was not in a position to ask for compensation for abandoning
them. The Lords knew that the King's expenses far surpassed
his receipts. They questioned whether the King could afford
to remit anything to his subjects at present, and they proposed
an annual grant of 50,000/. in lieu of purveyance, in defence
of this suggestion they took up the unlucky ground that, as
there v.. re many penal laws which the King did not press, he
had a right to look to his people for some indulgence in return.
In other word,, the King and the nation were to regard one
another as parties to ;i bargain ; the loss of the one w.i . to be
the gain of the other. This error was destined to be the lead-
ing idea of the Kin^s of l n land through more than eighty
1 C. J. i. 190 ; I . iii. 181.
: At this time Sunday was the day upon whi< h a meeting of the Privy
Council was always held after service.
174 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION, en. iv
weary years. They never could comprehend that, if the interests
of the Sovereign were really distinct from the interests of the
nation, one of the two must give way, and that such a strife
could only end in their own ruin.1
Upon this the Commons summoned the officers of the
Board of Green Cloth, who presided over the whole system, to
give evidence. The answers given by these men are curious,
as showing the lengths to which official persons will sometimes
go. They raked up obsolete statutes to justify the grossest
abuses. They asserted their right to exercise the most tyranni-
cal power ; and, whenever any charge was made against them
for which even they found it impossible to invent an excuse, they
boldly denied the facts. The opposition which the Commons
met with in the matter of their efforts to deal with purveyance,
was only equalled by the opposition which they met with in the
Court of Wards.
In dealing with the question of purveyance, the House had,
at least at first, been contented with lopping off the abuses ;
March, but with Wardship the case was different. The
the^Cour^of whole system was one huge abuse. But, whatever it
Wards. Was, it was strictly legal. It was a system by which
every King of England had profited since the days of the Con-
queror. There was therefore no mention of proceeding by
Bill, but the Lords were asked to join in petitioning the King
for leave to treat with him on the subject. The King's prero-
gative was unquestioned ; but it was hoped that he would yield
his rights in consideration of the grant of a large and certain
yearly revenue. The system itself might have had some show
of reason to support it in the days when feudality was still in
vigour. Sovereignty brings with it, even in our own times,
obligations which in some cases interfere with personal and
domestic liberty ; and, in the Middle Ages, every man who had
a place in the feudal hierarchy was in some respects a sovereign.
The ownership of land carried with it the title to command a
greater or less number of men : it was, therefore, only natural
that when the owner was a minor, and, in consequence, was
1 C. J. i. 204 ; L. J. ii. 294.
1604 WARDSHIP. 175
unable to take his place at the head of his vassals, the lord
should take the land into his own hands, and should receive
the profits, as long as there was no one to perform the
duties attached to the tenure. For similar reasons, it was not
repugnant to the feelings of the age, that where the heir was a
female, the lord should take an interest in the disposal of her
hand, and should claim a right to select the husband who was
in future to have at his command the vassals of the heiress in
question ' If the colonelcies of regiments were heritable pro-
perty, similar regulations might be found necessary even in the
nineteenth century.
This right not being confined to the Sovereign, but being
shared in by all who had vassals depending upon them, the
lords were by no means eager, as long as the feudal system
really lasted, to exclaim against it. The evils against wliii h
the Great Charter provided were abuses with which the system
itself had become encrusted. Gradually, however, the old
theory sunk into oblivion, and the King's claims upon wards
dwindled into a mere machinery for bringing in money m
a most oppressive manner. Men were dissatisfied with the
thought that it was possible that, at their death, their lands
might undergo a temporary confiscation, and with the know-
ledge that their daughters might have to bribe some courtier
in order I e from an obnoxious marriage. When the
feudal militia ceased to he the army of the nation, every
reason for the mainti oi the ( ourt ol Wards cairn
an end. The legal right remained, hut the duties with which
it was, in theory, connected, had long d to be
ormed.
1 1 being th« of opinion on the sublet t,
the Lon Lily concurred with the Commons in
ring relief.- It was not till May 26 thai the
°fwi Commons brought forward a definite proposal. 1
offered to rai e a revenue which would be larger than any that
1 Tli> lord cl the rigbl of the marriag n male heir-, but it
is difficult tn see on what principle,
' C j. 1. 153-
176 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION, ch. IV.
the King had ever obtained from the Court of Wards, and to
grant pensions to the officers of the Court for the remainder of
their lives. They were not precipitate in their measures. All
that they asked for was a general approbation on the King's
part. If they obtained this, they would appoint commis-
May 26. sioners who should during the recess inquire into the
Proposal proportion of the burden borne by different counties
Commons, and individuals, in order that, in the course of the
next session, arrangements might be made for offering a suffi-
cient composition to the King and also to those subjects who
possessed a similar right over their tenants.
At a conference between the Houses held on May 26, ' the
Lords, under the influence of the Court, threw cold water on
even this moderate scheme. They expressed doubts
throwcoid whether it would be possible to raise a sufficient
revenue, and blamed the Commons for wasting time
over questions of privilege and purveyance, though this latter
point had been first moved in their own house. They recom-
mended that the question of Wardships should be dropped
May 30. till the next session. Four days later the King
Th?K>£g summoned the Commons into his presence and
Commons, censured their proceedings bitterly.
James, in fact, was thoroughly dissatisfied at their slow
progress in a matter on which he had set his heart. At the
.f t time when he gave way to them on the subject
The pro- of the Buckinghamshire election, he pressed them
whh ScoT" to take in hand his favourite measure for a union
land' with Scotland. He wished, as he told them, to
leave at his death ' one worship of God, one kingdom entirely
governed, one uniformity of law.' 2 He saw the advantages
which would accrue to both countries from a complete union,
and longed to anticipate the fruits which would eventually
spring from the carrying out of his project.3 His constitutional
' I. J. ii. 309 ; C. J. i. 230.
2 C. J. i. 171.
3 The charge, that he wished for the Union in order to be able to
gratify his Scotch favourites, can only be made by those who forget that
he had it in his power to make any foreigner a denizen, and thus to enable
1604 PROPOSED UNION WITH SCOTLAND. 177
impatience made him anxious that the work should be accom-
plished by his own hands. His ignorance of human nature
brought him speedily into collision with his subjects on this
point. It had not been for want of warning : Cecil, as usual,
had given him good advice. He told him that the two nations
were not ripe for a union as long as they continued to look
upon one another with hostile eyes. In process of time, such a
measure would be heartily welcomed. All that could now be
done was to appoint commissioners on either side, who might
discuss the whole question, and determine how far it was
practicable to remove the barriers by which the two nations
were separated.' It was all in vain ; James was in such haste
ce a marriage between the kingdoms, that he would not
allow time fur the preliminary courtship.
The disposition of the House of Commons was at once tested
by the proposal that they should immediately agree to James's
April M. assumption of the title of King of Great Britain.
1 I < v felt that in this, which was apparently a mere
■( King . ' . ,
verbal question, the most important consequences
were involved. Bacon expressed the whole difficulty
in a few words, when he asked, " By what laws shall this Bril
governed?" In those daj of undefined prerogative, it was
impossible to say what claims might not he raised : James
mightattenipttoaiN.il the legislatures by proclamation,
or he might fill the publi< offices of State with his
Objected to B '
countrymen, without leaving any legal ground ol
sistan< e.'2 The < lommons therefore thought that there
should I »e •■ • in. ni as to the terms of the union before
him to hold lands granted by the frown, and that his chief favourites were
naturalised by \< t of 1 ion.
1 < ecil 1 ■■ ■• ; ll King i" postpone the Union, and 'seulement
lembler di d'une part et d'autre a Go
de compai la bien hire, ef 1 1 pendant donnei
loisii aux peuplt 1 de liei doucetnenl pai marriages.' —
Beaumont to the Kil | 1 .. fCing't .1/.V.V. [25, fol. 29.
2 It musl not ! ■ ' 11 that the subsequent naturali ol the
Poshhili was carried through l<y the legal technicalities of the lawyers,
in defiance of the wish of the House of Commi
VOL. I. N
178 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. IV.
it was ratified by the assumption of a title. The King gave
way courteously at first, but he soon grew vexed and angry.
Cecil must have felt his triumph when the project of a change
of name was abandoned, and the King consented to the ap-
pointment of such a commission as his prudent Secretary had
recommended. A Bill was brought in, naming twenty-eight
commissioners, who were taken equally from the two Houses,
to confer with a similar body appointed by the Scots ; and it
was understood that Parliament was to meet again in the fol-
lowing year, in order to receive their report.
It was hardly possible that James should retain his good
humour. In this matter of the Union, the Commons must
have appeared to him as narrow-minded pedants,
Th/com! eager to raise paltry objections to a magnificent act
mons dis- 0f statesmanship which they were unable to compre-
with the hend. His ill-humour was aggravated by the course
Court settle- taken by the Commons with regard to ecclesiastical
affairs. He had decided against the Puritans, and it
was commonly said that three parts of the House were Puritans.1
If so, they were Puritans of a very different stamp from those
who, after nearly forty years of arbitrary government, filled
many of the benches of the Long Parliament. They committed
to the Tower a man who presented a petition in which the
Bishops were described as antichrists. They would have been
ready to assent to any guarantees which the King might think
necessary for maintaining his supremacy in the Church, as well
as in the State ; but they took a truer view of ecclesiastical
questions than James or his bishops were able to take, and they
saw that unless concessions were made, all vitality would quickly
depart from the Church. If differences were not allowed to exist
within, they would break out elsewhere. Little as they thought
what the consequences of their acts would be, Elizabeth and
Whitgift, James and Bancroft, by making a schism inevitable,
were the true fathers of Protestant dissent.
Perhaps such a schism was sooner or later unavoidable, but,
if the Commons had been allowed to carry out their views, it
1 Sir R. Wingfield's account of his speech, S. P. Dom. vii. 2.
1604 CHURCH REFORM. j79
might have been long delayed. The moral earnestness of
Puritanism would not have been embittered by a long struggle
J O DO
for existence. It would have escaped the worst trial which re-
ligion knows — the trial of political success. Men like Baxter,
and men like Jeremy Taylor, would have laboured together as
brethren in one common faith : truth and godliness would have
worked their way insensibly, quietly influencing the whole social
fabric in their course. But these are visions ; the sad reality
presents us with a very different picture
On April 1 6, Sir Francis Hastings moved for a committee,
April 16. to consider ' of the confirmation and re-establishing
rrXcim' of the religion now established within this kingdom ;
|^tical as also of the settling, increasing, and maintaining a
learned ministry, and of whatsoever else may inci-
dentally bring furtheran< e thereunto.'
The King immediately sent to request that the House,
Theyrefu.se before entering upon such matters, would confer
wifh'convo- witn Convocation. The Commons, always jealous
cation. 0f that body, sent a distinct refusal, though the)
expressed their readiness to treat with the Bishops as Lords ot
Parliament.
They accordingly empowered the committee to propose to
the Lords that, in accordance with the Act of 13 Elizabeth,
.,.5. ministers should Le required to subscribe to tin
articles only which related to do< time and the sa< i.i
ments, and that all persons hereafter admitted to the
ministry should be at least Bacheloi ot Arts, and should have
• timony of the I ity to their moral condui t and
ability to preach [f, however, anyom rous ol ordina
tion who had not studied at eithei oi the 1 taivei ities, a similai
monial from six prci< h< rs ot in . own 1 ounty was to be
:nt 1 d that no mo 1 itions might be
ited for pluralities and non resident e, and hoped thai somi
augmentation might \>r afford.-d to small livings ot Irss than tin
annual value of 20/. Lastly, they begged tie Lords to join
them in putting a stop to the deprivation of men who objected
only to the use of the surplice and of the cross in baptism,
'which,' as they said, almost in the VI .if,
N 2
l8o THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. IT.
indeed, he were not himself the framer of these proposals,
'turneth to the punishment of the people.'1
Finding the Lords but lukewarm in the cause, they brought
in two Bills in their own House — one directed against pluralists,
Bills brought of which we have no particulars, and the other pro-
House viding for a learned and godly ministry, embodying
of Lords. tne opinions which they had expressed in their con-
ference with the other House,2 but adding a clause which must
have been a terror to all unfit expectants of benefices. It was
to be enacted that, if any person were afterwards inducted
without the testimonials required, the parishioners might law-
fully withhold from him the payment of tithes. It is needless
to say that both Bills fell through in the Lords.
The condition of business in the House of Commons was
therefore by no means satisfactory, when on May 30 the King
May 30. addressed them in terms of disparagement on the
1 usiness in subject. Sore as they were at the language in which
mons.oin he spoke, they resolved to show him by their actions
June 1. that they were not to blame. On June 1 they deter-
abandoned. mined to abandon the subject of wardships till the
June 2. following session, and on June 2 they came to a
for naming similar resolution on the subject of purveyance. At
erVforlthe>n tne same time the Bill naming commissioners to treat
of the Union was hurried through the House, and
June s. sent UP t0 the Lords. James was gratified with the
thanks the result OI" his expressions of displeasure, and sent a
Commons, message to the Commons, thanking them for what
they had done.3
The Commons, on their part, naturally desired to justify
June 20. themselves. During the next fortnight they were
\poiogy busily employed in drawing up an Apology for their
Commons, proceedings, and on June 20 it was completed and
read in the House.
The Commons, in whose name it was drawn up, began by
explaining that they were under a necessity of justifying their
C. J. i. 199. 2 S. P. Dom. viii. 66.
3 C. J. i. 230-232.
1604 THE APOLOGY OF THE COMMONS. ibr
conduct. They acknowledged that the King was a prince
eminent for wisdom and understanding, yet as it was impossible
its pre- f°r an>' man< however wise, to understand at a glance
the customs of a whole people, he had necessarily been
dependent upon others for information. They were sorry to find
that he had been grievously misinformed, both with respect to
the condition of the people and the privileges of Parliament.
They thought it better, therefore, to speak out, and not to leave
these misunderstandings as seeds for future troubles.
They had, first, to defend themselves against an insinuation
which had been made by one of the Lords, that they had wel-
comed the King rather from fear of the consequences
...dthe which would have ensued upon rejecting him, than
from any love which they bore to his person. They
protested their loyalty to him, and assured him that
they had looked forward to his reign with hopefulness, as
expet ting that under him religion, peace, and justice would
flourish, and that 'some moderate ease' would be afforded
' of those burdens and sore oppressions under which the whole
land did groan.' Remembering ' what great alienation of men's
hearts the defeating of good hopes doth usually breed,' they
could not do better than set forth the grievances which were
universally felt.
misinformation delivered to the King consisted of
three points— first, that they held 'not' their 'privileges as of
right' ; set ondly, that they ' were no court of record,
r yet a court that can command view of records ;'
and lastly, that the examination of the returns of
writs tor knights and burgesses is without 'their com
nd dui to the < ry.'
■• From these mi i d positions, Mo t ( rra» ious Sove
n," they pro< eed< d to jay, " the r< at< i pari oi our troubli ,
distrust, and jealousy hai n, having apparently1 found
that in tin-, firsl 1 '•" r 1 1 ! tin- happy reign of your Majesty,
the privileges "t" our House, and th< rem the liberties and sta-
bility of the whole Kingdom, hath been more universally and
1 Here and always ' apparently ' means ' plainly.'
i82 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. IV.
dangerously impugned than ever, as we suppose, since the
beginning of Parliaments. For although it may be true that,
in the latter times of Queen Elizabeth, some one privilege, now
and then, were by some particular act attempted against, yet
was not the same ever by so public speech, nor by positions
in general, denounced against our privileges. Besides that in
regard of her sex and age, which we had great cause to tender,
and much more upon care to avoid all trouble which by wicked
practice might have been drawn to impeach the quiet of your
Majesty's right in the succession, those actions were then passed
over which we hoped, in succeeding times of freer access to
your Highness' so renowned grace and justice, to redress, re-
store, and rectify ; whereas, contrarywise, in this Parliament
which your Majesty in great grace, as we nothing doubt, in-
tended to be a precedent for all Parliaments that should succeed,
clean contrary to your Majesty's so gracious desire, by reason
of those misinformations, not only privileges, but the whole
freedom of the Parliament and realm, hath from time to time,
on all occasions, been mainly hewed at."
They then came to particulars. Doubts had been thrown
upon the liberty of election. ' The freedom of ' their ' speech '
Particular had been ' prejudiced by often reproof,' the Bishop
complaints. Q( Bristol had written a book in which they had been
reviled. ' Some of the clergy had been preaching against them,
and had even published their protestations against the un-
doubted right of the House to deal with ecclesiastical affairs.
' What cause ' they had ' to watch over their privileges,' was
'manifest in itself to all men. The prerogatives of princes'
were daily growing ; ' the privileges of subjects ' were ' for the
most part at an everlasting stand.' They might ' be by good
providence and care preserved, but, being once lost,' they were
not to be 'recovered but with much disquiet. If good kings
were immortal,' they might be less careful about their privileges.
But a day might come when a hypocrite and a tyrant might sit
1 On the complaint of the Commons he was compelled to ask pardon.
He had undertaken to refute arguments used in the House of Commons —
a high offence before debates were published, as the attacked party might
be misrepresented, and had no opportunity of reply.
1604 THE APOLOGY OF THE COMMONS. 1S3
upon the throne, and it was therefore their bounden duty to
provide for posterity.
They had heard that particular speeches had been misre-
ported to the King ; they hoped, theiefore, that he would allow
those members whose words had been misrepresented to justify
themselves in the presence of their accusers.
After offering a defence of their conduct in the cases of the
Buckinghamshire election, of Sir Thomas Sherley's imprison-
ment, and of the Bishop of Bristol's book, they touched upon
the thorny subje< t of the Union.
"The proposition," they said, "was new, the importance
great, the consequence far-reaching, and not discovered but by
Theircon- long dispute. Our number also is large, and which
*" hath free liberty to speak ; but the doubts and diffi-
culties once cleared and removed, how far we were
from opposing the just desires of your Majesty (as some evil-
disposed minds would perhaps insinuate, who live by division,
and prosper by the disgrace of other men) the great expedition,
alacrity, and unanimity which was used and showed in passing
of the Bill may sufficiently testify."
Having thus got over this difficulty, perhaps by making
more of their own readiness to meet the King's wishes than the
the case would justify, they proceeded to a still more
important subjei t
"For matter of religion," they said, "it will appear, by exami-
nation of the truth and right, that your Majesty should be mis-
ftndmfetten informed if any man should deliver1 that the Kings
ofrcl1' ■• of England have any absolute power in themselves
either to alter religion, (which God forefend should be in the
if any mortal man what o< vi r), or to make any laws con-
iing the same, otherwise than in tempi >ral < auses by < onsent
of Parliament. We have and shall at all tuih S by om oaths
acknowledge that your Majesty is sovereign lord and supn me
1 This must refer to I oni which were pa led through Convo*
cation in this session. In an anonymo *. /'. Dotn. \\. 46) en*
titled Su of the Doctrine </ the Church oj /.«. 'and on the King's
Supremacy, it is expressly stated that the Kin^ had the riglu to confirm
ecclesiastical canons, and to give them the force of 1.
i84 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. IV.
governor in both. Touching our own desires and proceedings
therein, they have been not a little misconceived and misin-
terpreted. We have not come in any Puritan or Brownist spirit
to introduce their parity, or to work the subversion of the State
ecclesiastical as now it stands, things so far and so clear from
our meaning as that, with uniform consent, in the beginning of
this Parliament we committed to the Tower a man who out of
that humour had, in a petition exhibited to our House, slan-
dered the Bishops; but according to the tenor of your Majesty's
writs of summons directed to the counties from which we came,
and according to the ancient and long continued use of Par-
liaments, as by many records from time to time appeareth, we
came with another spirit, even with the spirit of peace; we
disputed not of matters of faith and doctrine, our desire was
peace only, and our device of unity, how this lamentable and
long-lasting dissension amongst the ministers (from which both
atheism, sects, and ill-life have received such encouragement,
and so dangerous increase) might at length, before help come
too late, be extinguished. And for the ways of this peace we
are not addicted at all to our own inventions, but ready to
embrace any fit way that may be offered. Neither desire we so
much that any man, in regard of weakness of conscience, may
be exempted after Parliament from obedience to laws established,
as that in this Parliament such laws may be enacted as by re-
linquishment of some few ceremonies of small importance, or
by any way better, a perpetual uniformity may be enjoined and
observed. Our desire hath been also to reform certain abuses
crept into the ecclesiastical estate even as into the temporal ;
and, lastly, that the land might be furnished with a learned,
religious, and godly ministry, for the maintenance of whom wo
would have granted no small contribution, if in these (as we
trust) just and religious desires we had found that corre-
spondency from others which was expected. These minds and
hearts we in secret present to that Sovereign Lord who gave
them, and in public profess to your gracious Majesty, who, we
trust, will so esteem them."
'• There remaineth, dread Sovereign," they said, in conclu
sion, after justifying the course which they had taken in the
i6o4 THE APOLOGY OF THE COMMONS. 185
matters of wardship and purveyance, " yet one part more of our
duty at this present which faithfulness of heart (not presumption)
doth press us to. We stand not in place to speak
Conclusion. . .
or to propose things pleasing. Our care is, and must
be, to confirm the love, and to tie the hearts of your subjects,
the Commons, most firmly to your Majesty. Herein lieth the
means of our well deserving of both. There was never Prince
entered with greater love, with greater joy and applause of all
his people. This love, this joy, let it flourish in their hearts for
ever. Let no suspicion have access to their fearful thoughts
that their privileges, which they think by your Majesty should
be prota ted, should now by sinister information or counsel be
violated or impaired, or that those who with dutiful respect
to your Majesty speak freely for the right and good of their
country shall be oppressed or disgraced. Let your Majesty be
pleased to receive public information from your Commons in
Parliament, as well of the abuses in the Church as in the Civil
State and Government For private informations pass often by
practice. The voice of the people, in things of their know-
ledge, is said to be as the voice of God. And if your Majesty
shall vouchsafe at your best pleasure and leisure to enter into
■ iotlS consideration of our petitions for ease of those burdens
under which your whole people have long time mourned,
hoping for relief by your Majesty, then may you be assured to be
ed of their hearts for ever, and if of their hearts, then of
all they can do and have. And we your Majesty's most humble
and loyal subjects, whose ancestors have with great Loyalty,
liness, and joyfulness served your famous progenitors, Kings
and Qu realm, lull with like loyalty and joy, both
we and our post ur Majesty and your most royal
issue for ever with our live . lands, and goods, ami all oilier our
abilities, and by all means endeavour to pro. ure your Majesty's
honour with all plenty, tranquillity, joy, and felicity. "'
Six h v. manly and In ■ 1, DUt ( Ott ei\a
tive and monan hi< al to the 1 ore, whi< h the House of Commons
was prepared to lay before the King. In it they took up the
1 l\nl. Hist, i. 1030, and S. /'. Dom. viii. 70.
i85 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. IV.
position which they never quitted during eighty-four long and
TheQom- stormy years. To understand this Apology is to
up theit e understand the causes of the success of the English
Eylhis" Revolution. They did not ask for anything which
Apology. was not jn accordance with justice. They did not
demand a single privilege which was not necessary for the good
of the nation as well as for their own dignity.
The Apology thus prepared was never presented to the King,
though there can be little doubt that a copy of it reached his
June 19. hands. The feeling of dissatisfaction which the
finTndai Commons, in spite of the alacrity with which they had
difficulties, passed the Union Bill, could not but have felt, they
expressed in another way, which must have been more annoying
to James than the presentation of the Apology could possibly
have been.
Even with the strictest economy James would have found
much difficulty in bringing his expenditure within the compass
of his revenue. With his habits of profusion, all hope of this
passed rapidly away. He had already incurred debts which
The c ne nac^ no means °f Pa>7'ng- His ministers therefore
Dions asked urged upon the Commons that it would be well to
express their loyalty in a tangible form. They stated,
with perfect truth, that the King was under the necessity of
providing for many extraordinary expenses connected with the
commencement of a reign, and that it was impossible in a
moment to return to a peace expenditure. If the great ques-
tions of the session had received a satisfactory solution, it is
probable that these arguments would have carried their proper
weight. As it was, the Commons remembered opportunely
that a considerable part of the subsidies which had been granted
by the last Parliament of the late Queen had not yet been
No ™uidy levied, and that it was contrary to precedent to grant a
fresh subsidy before the last one had been fully paid.
They did not give a direct refusal, but the tone which the debate
assumed was not such as to promise a result favourable to the
Government. On hearing this, James, making a virtue of
necessity, wrote a letter to the Commons, in which he informed
them that he was unwilling that they should lay any burden
1604 COMMERCIAL PROGRESS. 187
on themselves in order to supply him with money.1 He
. took care to have this letter printed, so as to lay
The King's his conduct before the public in as honourable a
light as possible.
Doubtless this blow directed against the King had much to
do with the frustration of the hope which the Commons enter-
.. tained of passing a Bill on a subject of no slight im-
The trading portance. When James, soon after his arrival in
England, had summoned the monopolists to show
cause why their patents should not be annulled, he had ex-
pressly excepted the trading corporations. The Commons now
proposed to treat these corporations as monopolists. At this
time the French trade was the only one open to all Englishmen.
By its chartered rights the Russia Company claimed the trade
with Muscovy ; whilst the commerce of the Baltic was in the
hands of the Eastland Company.2 From the Cattegat to the
mouth of the Somme, the merchant adventurers held sway.3
From thence there was a line of free shore till the dominions of
the Spanish King presented what had lately been an enemy's
coast. Venice and the East were apportioned to the vessels
of the Levant Company. Western Africa had a company of its
own ; and beyond the Cape, the continents and islands over
the trade of which the great East India Company claimed a
monopoly, stretched away to the Straits of Magellan, through
three-quarters of the ( in umference of the globe. In the early
days of the late reign, such associations had served the purpose
of fostering the rising commerce of England. There was not
suffi icnt capital in the hands of individuals to enable them to
■ h distant enterprises, nor was the power of
the Government sufficient to guarantee them that protection
which alone could make their risks remunerative. The com
panics undertook some "i the responsibilities which at a later
period were imposed upon the State. They supported amb
sadors, and appointed consuls to represenl their inti
' C. J. i. 246. Then- i, a printed copy ill the .'.'. /'. Dom. viii. 7
1 Macpherson't Annals of Commerce, \\. 164. * IbU. 220.
' Suggestions for regulating the Levant Trade, Feb, 29, 1604, S. l\
Dom. vi. 70.
1 88 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. IV.
They were better able than private persons would have been
to discover new outlets for trade. The risk run in making
voyages for the first time to such countries as Russia or India
was so great, that it was only fair to compensate for it by the
monopoly of the trade — at least for a limited period. Nor were
the voyages even to friendly ports free from danger. In 1582
the Russia Company had to send out as many as eleven well-
armed ships, for fear of enemies and pirates.
Now, however, the time was favourable for reviewing the
commercial policy of the country. The Levant Company had
surrendered its charter shortly after the King's accession. Spain
was soon to be thrown open to English commerce. The in-
crease of wealth made many persons desirous of engaging in
trade who were not members of any company ; but, above all,
there was a growing feeling of jealousy against the London
merchants, on the part of the shipowners of the other ports. A
native of Plymouth or of Southampton might engage in the
coasting trade, or he might even send his vessel to the other
side of the Channel ; but if he wished to push his fortune
by engaging in commerce on a larger scale, he was at once
checked by learning that the charter of some great Com-
pany, whose members were sure to be Londoners, stood in
his way.
In consequence of the general dissatisfaction with the pri-
vileges of the Companies, appeals were made to the Privy
Council. These being without result, the whole case was re-
ferred to Parliament. A committee of the Lower
h,«^at"se House, with Sir Edwin Sandys at its head, took great
points"" Pains t0 arrive at the truth- It devoted five after-
^ainstthe noons to the investigation of the alleged grievances,
and to the discussion of a Bill for throwing open
trade.2 Clothiers and merchants from all parts of the realm
attended its sittings in crowds. They complained bitterly that
the existing system was a juggle, by which the whole commerce
of England was thrown into the hands of a few interested
persons. Arguments were heard on both sides. The free
1 C. J. i. 218.
1604 FREEDOM OF TRADE. 189
traders urged the natural right of all men to trade where they
would, and reminded the Committee that monopolies were
only of recent invention. They said that at most the members
of the Companies were only five or six thousand in number,
and that of these only four or five hundred were actually
engaged in commerce. They pointed to the success of other
commercial nations where trade was free. They said that in
their policy would be found a remedy for the evil which pro-
clamations and Acts of Parliament had striven in vain to cure.
The rapid growth of London in proportion to other towns was
astonishing to that generation. The money received in the
port of London in a single year for customs and impositions
amounted to t 10,000/., whilst the whole sum of the receipts from
the same sources in all the rest of the kingdom was nothing
more than a beggarly 17,000/. They trusted that freedom of
trade would be more favourable to the equal distribution of
wealth. Ships would be built in greater numbers, mariners
would obtain more constant employment, and the Crown
would reap the benefit by an increase of customs. They con-
cluded with a remark characteristic of a people amongst whom
no broad line of demarcation separated the different classes of
the community : the younger sons of the gentry, they said,
would be thrown out of employment by the cessation of the
war, and therefore an open career should In- provided lor them
in mercantile pursuits, where alone it could he found,
The force of these arguments was only equalled by the
shallowness of the oppo ition made to them. It was gravely
urged thai no monopoly was granted to any company, bei
a righl | ed by more than a single person could not pro
perl) !»• termed a monopoly. It was said that all England
could not produce more than tin- companies carried abroad;
thai the time of the appn would he thrown away 11 thi
1 ompani 1 ihort Tin- < ounsi I on
behalf of the monopolists inveighed against the injustice ol
putting an end to such useful and flourishing societies. He
was told that there tion ol abolishing a single
company. The Bill only provided for throwing trade open.
If it were true, as \ 1. that commerce on a large scale
190 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. ch. iv.
could not be carried on by private merchants, why this opposi-
tion to the Bill ? The permission to such merchants to engage
in trade would be void of itself, if it was really impossible for
them to enter into competition. Again, it was objected that
the King would never be able to collect the customs. In reply
to this, several merchants offered, incase the Bill passed, to pay
for the farm of the customs a higher sum than the average of
the receipts of the last five years.
When the Bill stood for a third reading, 'it was three
several days debated, and in the end passed with great consent
and applause of the House, as being for the exceeding benefit
of all the land, scarce forty voices dissenting from them.'
The Bill was sent up to the House of Lords, where counsel
was again heard on both sides. Coke, as Attorney-General,
spoke against it, acknowledging its purpose to be good, but ob-
jecting to certain defects in it. Upon this, on July 6,
Juy the Bill was dropped. The Commons expressed
their intention of taking the matter up again in the following
session.1
On the following day the King came down to prorogue
Parliament. After a few words of praise addressed to the
House of Lords, he turned to the Commons, pleased
The Rings to find an opportunity of venting upon them his long
pent-up ill-humour.
" I have more to say of you," he began, "my masters of the
Lower House, both in regard of former occasions, and now of
His intern- >'our Speaker's speech. It hath been the form of
perate ian- most kings to give thanks to their people, however
their deserts were. Of some, to use sharp admonish-
ment and reproof. Now, if you expect either great praises or
reproofs out of custom, I will deceive you in both. I will not
thank where I think no thanks due. You would think me base
if I should. It were not Christian ; it were not kingly. I do
not think you, as the body of the realm, undutiful. There
is an old rule, qui bene distinguit bene docet. This House
doth not so represent the whole Commons of the realm as the
1 C. J. i. 253.
1604 THE KINGS SPEECH TO THE COMMONS. 191
shadow doth the body, but only representatively. Impossible
it was for them to know all that would be propounded here,
much more all those answers that you would make to all pro-
positions. So as I account not all that to be done by the
Commons of the land which hath been done by you, I will not
thank them for that you have well done, nor blame them for
that you have done ill. I must say this for you, I never heard
nor read that there were so many wise and so many judicious
men in that House generally ; but where many are some must
needs be idle heads, some rash, some busy informers."
After scolding them for some time longer in the same
flippant strain, he proceeded to compare the reception which
his wishes had met with in England with the obedience which
he had always' found in Scotland. He must have counted
largely on the ignorance of his hearers with respect to Scottish
affairs, when he added : — " In my government by-past in Scot-
land (where I ruled upon men not of the best temper), I was
heard not only as a king, but as a counsellor. Contrary, here
nothing but curiosity, from morning to evening, to find fault
with my propositions. There all things warranted that came
from me. Here all things suspected." He then hurst out into
an invective against them for their delays in the matter of the
Union, and for their encoura lent of Puritanism. "You
.''he continued, "in how many things you did not well.
The best apology-maker of you all, for all his eloquent e, < annot
make all good. Forsooth, a goodly matter to make apologies,
when no man is by to answer. You have done many things
rashly. I J not you meant disloyally. I receive better
f omfort in you, and bi < ount better lo he king of such subjt
than of so many kingdoms. Only] wish you had kept a better
form. 1 like form as much as matter. It shows respect, and
I expect it, being a king, as w< II born (suppose I say it) as any
of my : [ wi h you would use your liberty with
more modesty in time to < ome. You must know now that, the
Parliament not sitting, the liberties are not sitting My justii e
shall always sit in the same seat. Justice 1 will give to all, and
favour to such as deserve it. In cases of justice, if I should
192 THE PARLIAMENTARY OPPOSITION. CH. IV.
do you wrong, I were no just king ; but in cases of equity, if I
should show favour, except there be obedience, I were no wise
man." »
^'ith this characteristic utterance James brought the first
session of his first Parliament to a close.
1 S. P. Dom. viii. 93.
*'93
CHAPTER V.
THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY.
The discontent which had made itself felt on both sides during
this unhappy session was the more ominous of future strife
Mutual di* '"-' ause it did not spring from a mere difference of
opinion on any single question. There was between
ie, the Kin" and the House of Commons the most
Commons, fruitful source of strife — a complete lack of sympathy.
The Commons could not enter into James's eagerness to bring
about a union with Scotland, or his desire to tolerate the
Cal lies, and James could not enter into their eagerness to
relieve themselves from ill-adjusted financial burdens, or to
relax the obligations of conformity. James, unhappily, lived
apart from his people. He had his chosen counsellors and
1 chosen companions, but he did not make himself familiar
with the average thought of the average Englishman. When
wiser, sometimes less wise, than his own,
were forced upon him, he had nothing but contempt to pour
upon them. In his public speeches as well as in his private
1 tters the thou often lost in a flow of words, and the
arrc with which he took it for granted that he was solely
in the righl d inquiry into the argument which hislenj
paragra] led.
first differ. :.' < between the King and the House— that
arising from Goodwin's election had been easily
ettled, had no personal interest in
the matter. When it < ame to the reform oi purveyan< e
and the abolition of wardship his own neci ide him
VOL. I. o
194 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, cil. v.
anxious not to be left in a worse case than that in which he had
been in before, whilst the Commons, who had hitherto been
kept in ignorance of the amount of the revenue and expenditure
of the Crown, were unaware how great those necessities were.
James, indeed, was ready enough to redress such grievances as
were brought home to him. Unfortunately more than that was
needed. If James was to rule as Elizabeth had ruled, it was
necessary that he should sympathise with his subjects as she
had done. He must not be content to let them work out
reforms, leaving to them the responsibility of directing their
energies so as not to interfere with his wants. He must
himself take the reforms in hand, and must so conduct them
as to guide his subjects patiently on the way in which they
wished to go. It was exactly what he was unable to do. Nor
was he likely to find in Cecil anything but a hindrance. For
Cecil, with all his practical capacity, was a man of the past
age, who had had no experience as an independent member
of the House of Commons, and who was more likely to throw
difficulties in the way of the demands of the reformers than to
consider how they could be carried into effect with the least
prejudice to the State. On the still more important question
raised by the Commons on the subject of Puritanism, he was
too deeply imbued with the principles of the late reign to
give good counsel.
The one man who could have guided James safely through
the quicksands was Bacon. He had all the qualities of a recon-
ciling statesman. He sympathized with the Commons
Me re- in their wish for reforms and in their desire for a more
tolerant dealing with the Puritans. He sympathized
with the King in his wish to carry out the Union. Above
all, whilst he was the most popular member of the House,
he had the highest ideas of the King's prerogative, because
he saw in it an instrument for good, if only James could
be persuaded to guide his people, and not to bargain with
them.
During his whole life Bacon continued to regard Cecil as
the man who stood in the way of that advancement which
he so ardently desired, both for the service of his country and
1604 BACON AXD CECIL. 195
for his own advancement. Yet it was not to be expected that
James should thrust away an old and tried counsellor like Cecil,
whom he had found on his arrival in England in possession of
1604. authority, to make way for an adviser whose superior
p.awn;sad- qualities he was unable to recognise. What he did
vancement. see jn Bacon was a supporter of the Union, who had
been chosen one of the commissioners to meet the delegates
of Scotland. As such he was worthy of a retaining fee. On
August 18 Bacon was established by patent in the position of
a King's Counsel, with which he received a pension of 60/. '
On the great ecclesiastical question on which he had written so
wisely, Bacon could but hope for the best. He knew that the
King had made up his mind, and he never again strove to
change it.
Whilst the House of Commons was engaged in stormy dis-
Con cation. cusslons> Convocation was more calmly at work in
drawing up a code of ecclesiastical law. The canons
to which this body gave its assent had been prepared by Bancroft,
TheCanons wn° acted as President of the Upper House, the See
of Canterbury being vacant. On the occasion of a
discussion upon the use of the cross in baptism, Rudd, Bishop
of St. David's, in a temperate speech, warned the I louse of the
evil consequences which would inevitably follow upon the course
which they were taking. The arguments of one man were not
likely to have mu< h weight in such an assembly. As far as in
them lay, they bound down the whole of the < lergy and laity o!
land to a perpetual uniformity. Every man was del lared to
be ev ommuni( ated who questioned the ( omplete accordant e
of the Prayer Book with the Word Of Cod. Nor were the
trrr nmunication felt only by those who shrank from
bearing spiritual 'ensures. The excommunicated person was
unable to enforce the paj mem of debt 1 whi< h mighl he dm
him, and was himself liable to imprisonment till he conies , d
his error.
On July if, a proclamation appeared, in which permii
1 Paeon's Letters and Life, iii. 217.
O 2
196 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
was given to the Puritan clergy to retain their livings until
July 1 6. November 30. As soon as the time thus allowed
The King's for consideration had come to an end, they must
proclama- t J
tion. either conform or submit to expulsion.
Shortly before the end of the term assigned to them, a
small number of Puritans presented a petition to the King at
The Royston his hunting seat at Royston. James, vexed at being
petition. tnus taken unawares, told them to send ten of the
wisest among them to the Council. The deputation did not
gain much by this step, as they were dismissed, and forced
to give bail to answer for their conduct whenever they might
be summoned.
On December 4, Bancroft was consecrated Archbishop of
Canterbury. If there had been any truth in the fond delusion
of his admirers in the next generation, who traced
Archbishop all the troubles of the Church to the inefficient way
in which his successor carried out his system, it would
have been impossible to make a better choice. He did not,
like Whitgift, persecute in the name of a state expediency. If
he was not the first to adopt the belief that the episcopal
system of the English Church was of Divine appointment, he
was at least the first who brought it prominently before the
world. With a full persuasion that he was engaged in repress-
ing the enemies of God, as well as the disturbers of the
Commonwealth, he felt no compunction in applying all his
energies to the extirpation of Nonconformity. There were
men in the Church of England, who, like Hutton, the Arch-
bishop of York, felt some sympathy with the Puritans, although
they did not themselves share their opinions. But Bancroft
was unable to understand how the Puritans could talk such
nonsense as they did, except from factious and discreditable
motives.1 In other respects he was well fitted for his office.
1 Compare Hutton 's letter (Strype's Whitgift, iv., App. No. 50) with
the following sentence from one of Bancroft's (Wilkins's Cone. iv. 409) : —
" I have hitherto not greatly liked any severe course, but perceiving by
certain instructions lately cast abroad, that the present opposition so lately
constituted doth rather proceed from a combination of sundry factions, who
1604 BANCROFT AND THE NONCONFORMISTS. 197
He was anxious to increase the efficiency of the clergy, as far
as was consistent with a due respect for uniformity, and, if it
had lain in his power, he would have provided an orthodox and
conforming preacher for every parish in England.
He had not been a week in his new office before he was
ordered by the Council to proceed against those amongst the
_. clergy who still held out.1 In a circular letter which
Dec. 10. aj
Proceedings he shortly afterwards addressed to the Bishops,2 he
directed that all curates and lecturers should be
required, upon pain of dismissal, to subscribe to
those articles which were imposed by the new canons. In the
first of these the King's supremacy was to be acknowledged ;
in the second a declaration was to be made that the Prayer
ik contained nothing contrary to the Word of God ; and in
the third the subscriber affirmed that the Thirty -nine Articles
were also agreeable to the Word of God. The beneficed
clergy were to be treated with rather more consideration. If
they refused to conform, they were to be at once deposed, but
those amongst them who were willing to conform, though they
refused to subscribe, might he allowed to remain at peace. By
this means, many would be able to retain their livings who,
though they had no objection to perform as a matter of
obedience the services enforced by the l'rayer Book, were by
no means ready to declare il to be their conscientious cjnnion
that everything contained in that book was in accordance with
1 livine truth.
ma) be supposed, this circular caused great consterna-
tion amongst the Puritan clergj and their favourers. It has
;i calculated that about three hundred aoi the clergy were
in the 1 ride of their mind are loath to I"' foiled, as they term it, than from
any reli- re or tt I
1 The Council to! Dec 10, 1604, Wilkins's Cone, iv. 408.
2 Bancroft to the Bishops, l></c. 22, 1604, Wilkins's Cone, iv. 409.
• The number ha timated as low as forty-nine j but 1
ments in Vaughan's Memorial* <»/ tin- Stuart i seem to me conclu iv< 1
favour of the larger number. To the authorities quoted there may l.o
added the petition of the Warwicl hip- mini t.-r-. (A'. /'. Dom. xi. 68), who
k of twenty-seven being suspended in thai county alone; though the
Bishop expressed ln> sorrow for that which he was forced to do.
193 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, ch. v.
ejected for refusing to comply with the demands made upon
them. The Bishops were frightened at the numbers who re-
fused subscription, but the King urged them on.1 To him the
refusal to conform was a presumption of the existence of a
Presbyterian temper. Such a temper, he held, must be rooted
out, as opposed to monarchical order. To individuals ready to
give way all tenderness was to be shown. " I am wonderfully
satisfied," he wrote to the Secretary, "with the Council's pro-
ceeding anent the Puritans. Since my departure, they have
used justice upon the obstinate, shown grace to the penitent,
and enlarged them that seem to be a little schooled by the
rod of affliction. In this action they have, according to the
ioist Psalm, sung of mercy and judgment both."2
On February 9, a petition in favour of the deprived
ministers was presented to the King by four knights from
Feb. 9, 1605. Northamptonshire. It bore the signatures of forty-
am^onTwre *0UT gentlemen 0I" tne county.3 The King was
petition. enraged. One sentence particularly exasperated
him : the petitioners intimated that, if he denied their suit,
many thousands of his subjects would be discontented ; an
assertion which he looked upon as a threat. On the following
day, he charged the Council to take steps against these daring
men. Three days afterwards, the Chancellor appeared in the
Star Chamber, and asked the judges if it was lawful to de-
prive nonconforming ministers, and whether it was an offence
against the law to collect signatures for such a petition as that
which had just been presented. To both these questions they
answered in the affirmative.4
1 Chamberlain to Win wood, Winw. ii. 46.
2 The King to Cranborne, 1604, Hatfield MSS. 134, fol. 48.
3 Petition in S. P. Dom. xi. 69. Among the signatures is that of
Erasmus Dryden, grandfather of the poet. A little later (xi. 95) he asked
pardon, and begged to be let out of the Fleet, to which he had been con-
fined in consequence.
4 to the Bishop of Norwich, Ellis, 2nd ser. iii. 215. A fuller
and more correct account is in a memorandum in the S. P. Dom. xi. 73,
and printed in Coke's Pep. at the end of the Reports of Trinity term,
2 Jac. I. This mistake has led some writers into the error of supposing
that the judges were consulted before the delivery of the petition.
l6os THE GOVERNMENT AND THE PURITANS. 199
It was discovered that the petition had been drawn up by
Sir Francis Hastings, the member for Somersetshire. He was
summoned before the Council, and required to confess that it
was seditious.1 This he refused to do ; but he was ready to
acknowledge that he had done wrong in meddling with such
matters out of his own county. He declared that in the
sentence to which the King objected, he had no intention of
saying anything disloyal. He was finally ordered to retire to
his own country house, and to desist from all dealings in
matters concerning the King's service. He was told that this
was a special favour, as anyone else would have been ' hud by
the heels.' Sir Edward Montague and Sir Valentine Knightly
met with similar treatment.
In all that was being done the Secretary steadily supported
the King. To him, unlike his cousin Bacon, the external uni-
Cccii's formity of worship was the source of the higher unity.
opinion. it Was necessary, he wrote, to correct the Puritans
for disobedience to the lawful ceremonies of the Church ;
' wherein although many religious men of moderate spirits
might be borne with, yet such are the turbulent humours of
some that dream of nothing but a new hierarchy directly
opposite to the state of a monarchy, as the dispensation with
such men were the highway to break, all the bonds of unity, to
nouri ih ' In in 111 the Church and commonwealth. It is well
said of a learned man that there are schisms in habit as well
as in opinion, and dial unity in belief can not be preserved
unless it is to be found in w( rship.' 2 Already in these words
may t> I the principles of baud. The conception
of a nation as .in artificial body to he coerced and trained
that which Cecil had cherished in the atmosphere
of the later Elizabethan officialism The conception of a
nation as a growing body instinct with hie was that which
I on was taught by his own genius to pen eive.
James could never learn this lesson. lie encouraged
1 F.jcim. of Sir F. Hastings, S. /'. Dom. xi. 74.
5 " Et nonitrvatur unitat in crtdendo, nisi adsitin coUndo." Cran.
borne to Hutton, Feb. 1605, Lodge, iii. 125.
2oo THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
Bancroft to urge on the unwilling Bishops to purify their
March i2. dioceses by the deprivation of all who were unwilling
deregydriv"n to conform,1 though they were allowed to abstain
out- from doing the work too roughly. The deprived
ministers were to be allowed to retain their parsonages for one
or two months, that they might have time to provide for them-
selves and their families, now left without any visible means of
subsistence.
Th-sse measures having been taken with the existing clergy,
James hoped to be equally successful in providing that the
April 8. Church should never again be troubled with similar
Jath forWthe difficulties. He commanded the Universities to
Universities, administer to their members a new oath, which no
Presbyterian would be willing to take. Even here, however,
Presbyterianism was condemned, not as unscriptural, but as
unsuitable to a monarchical constitution.2
There was at least one religious work not interrupted
by these stormy conflicts. Puritans and Churchmen were
able to sit down together to labour at that translation
The T1€W
translation of of the Bible which has for so many generations been
treasured by Englishmen of every creed, because in
its production all sectarian influences were banished, and all
hostilities were mute.
There can be little doubt that James seriously believed that
he had brought peace into the Church by imposing conformity.
The view taken by the Secretary was distinctly that the Church
of England was the stronger for the late proceedings of the
Government. " For the religion which they profess,"
viewofnon- he wrote of the expelled clergy, " I reverence them
and their calling ; but for their unconformity, I ac-
knowledge myself no way warranted to deal for them, because
1 Bancroft to the Bishops, March 12, 1605, Wilkins's Cone. iv. 410.
2 The King to Cranborne, April 8, 1605, S. P. Dom. xiii. 75. The
most p ominent clause was: — " Deinde me credere ac tenere formam
ecclesiastici regiminis, qua? apud nos est, per Archiepiscopos ac Episcopos
legitimam esse, et sacris Scripturis consentaneam, novamque illam ac
popularem quce presbyterii nomine usurpatur, utcunque alicubi non im-
probandam, Monarchies tamen certe institute minime convenientem.'
i6os PURITANS AND CATHOLICS. 201
the course they take is no way safe in such a monarchy as
this; where His Majesty aimeth at no other end than where
there is but one true faith and doctrine preached, there to
establish one form, so as a perpetual peace may be settled in
the Church of God ; where contrarywise these men, by this
singularity of theirs in things approved to be indifferent by so
many reverend fathers of the Church, by so great multitudes of
their own brethren, yea many that have been formerly touched
with the like weaknesses, do daily minister cause of scandal in
the Church of England, and give impediment to that great and
goodly work, towards which all honest men are bound to yield
their best means, according to their several callings, namely to
suppress idolatry and Romish superstition in all His Majesty's
dominions." '
The view thus taken was that of the man of business in all
ages and in all parts of the world. To such natures the strength
which freedom gives is entirely inconceivable.
The policy of repressing Puritanism was not likely to stand
alone. Partly from a desire to stand well with his Protestant
subjects, partly from a feeling of insecurity, the months in
which the nonconformist clergy were being driven from their
parishes were those in which the Catholics were again brought
under the lash of the penal laws.
During the early part of 1604, James had hesitated between
his desire to abstain from persecution, and his disinclination to
see such an increase in the numbers of the Catholics
as would enable them to dictate their own terms to
him ell and Ins Protestant subjects. On February 22
he had issued the proclamation for the banishment of the
priests.2 On March [9, in his speech at the opening of Par-
liament,3 he had expressed his resolution that no new converts
should be made, jrel a month later the order for banishing the
priests was still unexecuted, and a priest, arrested for saying
mass, was set at liberty by the order of the King. Good Pro
tenants complained bitterly that for many years the Catholit ^
' Cranbo ! gentlemen of Leicestershire, April 1605, lint-
field J/.V.S". no, foL 117.
P. .45. ' P- l06'
202 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, cm v.
had enjoyed no such liberty, and the Catholics themselves
doubted whether James would be able to bear up against the
pressure which was being brought against him.1
That the Catholics were on the increase was by this time an
undisputed fact. In May, they themselves boasted that their
May< ranks had been joined by 10,000 converts ,2 and the
increase sense of growing numbers gave them a confidence
of the 1
Catholics. which they had not before possessed.
James, not unnaturally, took alarm. His distraction of
mind showed itself in his language. On May 17, he complained
to the House of Commons of the increase of Papists,
Impression ... .
made on the and recommended the preparation of ' laws to hem
them in.' 3 In his communications with the Catholics
themselves he fell back on that dreary and impracticable
solution which has commended itself to so many generous
He wishes minds. Why, he asked, could not the Pope consent
b/sum-'1 to t0 tne meeting of a general council at which all the
moned. differences between the Churches would be freely
discussed, and the unity of the Church restored.4 At such a
council James would undoubtedly have expected to exercise a
predominant influence. A few months before a Catholic agent
had recommended that if anyone were sent from Rome to gain
any influence over James, he should take care not to attempt
openly to convince him of the error of his ways. He should
explain that the Pope wished to apply to James as to the
greatest and the most intelligent amongst the sovereigns who had
forsaken the Roman See, for his advice on the best means of
1 Relalio Domini Con., enclosed in a letter from Del Bufalo to Aldo-
brandino, May — Roman Transcripts, R. 0. The name is there given
as Com, but I believe him to have been the future agent at the court of
Henrietta Maria.
2 Account of a conversation, May 18, .S". P. Dom. viii. 30. From
Jan. to Aug. the number in the diocese of Chester alone increased from
2,400 to 3,433. State of the diocese of Chester, S. P. Dom. ix. 28. A
priest is reported to have talked about an insurrection and the seizure of
Chester, &c, Exam, of Hacking, May 20, S. P. Dom. viii. 34.
s C. J. i. 214.
4 Del Bufalo to Aldobrandino, June -' Roman Transcripts, R. 0.
1604 ACT AGAINST RECUSANTS. 203
uniting Christendom in one true religion.1 Clement VII. would
no doubt have had no objection to playing with James, as an
angler plays with a salmon, but he was not likely to agree to a
general council, in which the assembled Bishops were, in
mute admiration, to give their willing consent to the views of
the royal theologian, and James was accordingly vexed to find
that there was no likelihood that his suggestion would be
accepted.
Before long, James was recalled to the practical world. On
June 4, a Bill for the due execution of the statutes against
Jesuits, Seminary Priests, and Recusants was intro-
June 4. .
Act against duced into the House of Lords.2 In spite of the
opposition of the Catholic Lord Montague, who was
committed to the Tower for the strong language which he not
unnaturally used, it was sent down to the Commons,
and finally passed both Houses, though not without
undergoing considerable alterations. All the statutes of the
late reign were con firmed, and in some points they were made
more severe. The Catholics were, of course, anxious that the
King should refuse his assent to the Bill. A petition8 was
presented to him by the priests, in which they offered to take
an oath of allegiance. A much more important petition4 was
presented by a number of the laity, in which they expressed
their readiness to be< ome responsible for the conduct of such
priests as they might be permitted to have in their houses.
Jul -8 '' '""' °^et was rL'J1-'' ,''1' by James, and he gave his
it in assent to the Dill. He told the French Ambassador,
however, that he had no present intention of putting
the Act in force, hut that he wished to have the power of re-
pre I ion if any necessity should arise.'' As an assur.iiK <■ of the
sincerity of his intentions, he remitted to the sixteen gentlemen
who were liable to the 20/. fine the whole sum \\hi< h had fallen
instable (?) to Del Bufalo, - 160 '' Roman Transcripts, K- < \
Jan. -j, 4, ' '
* I Jac. I. cap. 4.
* Catholic Priests to the Kinp, July (?) .V. /'. Dom, viii. 125.
1 Petition Apologetical, p. 34.
* Pcaumont to the King of France, July - 1604, King's 3fSS. 126,
fol. 122.
=04 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, ch. v.
due since the Queen's death, as a guarantee that he would never
call upon them for arrears.1
The Catholics might well be content with the treatment
which they were receiving, if only they could be assured that
it would continue. They knew, however, that James stood
alone amongst the Protestant English people in his wish to
protect them, and that they were therefore at the mercy of-
any gust of feeling which might sweep over his mind. It was
therefore with considerable interest that they watched the nego-
tiations which seemed likely to afford them relief by bringing
their own King into close connection with the great Catholic
monarchy of Spain.
That monarchy had, indeed, of late years fallen from its
high estate. If Philip II. had been able to carry out his
8_ schemes, he would have re-established the old religion
The Spanish by the prowess of the Spanish armies, and by the
STdeath of intrigues of which he held the thread as he sat at his
p • desk at the Escurial. The Pope would once more
have been looked up to as the head of an undivided Church.
By his side would have stood, in all the prominence of con-
scious superiority, the King of Spain, realising in his person all,
and more than all that, in the Middle Ages, had been ascribed
by jurists and statesmen to the chief of the Holy Roman
Empire, the lay pillar of the edifice of Catholic unity. Kings
would have existed only by his sufferance. Political inde-
pendence and religious independence would have been stifled
on every side. At last, perhaps, the symbol would have
followed the reality, and the Imperial Crown would have rested
on the brows of the true heir of the House of Austria, the
champion of the Church, the master of the treasures of the
West, the captain of armies whose serried ranks and unbroken
discipline would have driven in headlong rout the feudal
chivalry which in bygone centuries had followed the Ottos and
the Fredericks through the passes of the Alps.
This magnificent scheme had broken down completely.
The long struggle of the sixteeeth century had only served to
1 July 30, Pat. 2 Jac. I. part 22.
1598 POLICY OF SPAIN. 205
consolidate the power of the national dynasties. The signa-
Faiiureof ture of trie Peace of Vervins was the last act of
his schemes. Philip II., and in accepting the treaty of London,
Philip III. was only setting his seal to his father's acknowledg-
ment of failure.
It was impossible that the memory of such a conflict could
be blotted out in a day. That Spain had never really with-
Spain still drawn her pretensions to universal monarchy, and
that she had merely allowed herself a breathing
with sus- J °
picion. time in ordei to recruit her strength for the renewal
of the struggle, was the creed of thousands even in Catholic
France, and was held with peculiar tenacity by the populations
of the Protestant Netherlands and of Protestant England. For
many years every petty aggression on the part of Spain would
be regarded as forming part of a preconcerted plan for a general
attack upon the independence of Europe.
It was only by the most scrupulous respect for the rights of
other nations, and by a complete abstinence from all meddling
with their domestic affairs, that the Spanish Govern-
Renuncia- .
■ mi nl could hope to allay the suspicion ot which it
was the obje< t. Unhappily there was but little pro-
bability of such a thorough change of policy. It is
true that, under the guidance of I.crma, Philip III., a prince
whose bigotry was only equalled by his listlessness and in-
effii had definitely renounced all intention of extending
his own dominions or of establishing puppet sovereigns at
I :, don or at Paris. It is also true, that now that there was no
longer to be found in Europe any considerable body ol Catholics
who were the subjei t . of a Protestant sov< r< ign, the poli< y of
stirring up 1 won in the Protestant states was of necessity
relinquished. Bui the old thi nexe still dear to the heart
;.-rd. Philip III. was still the Catholic King, the
pillar of the Church, the pi of the faithful. Even Lerma,
irous as he was of maintaininj ce which alone made it
1 him to stave oil a national bankruptcy, and to fill
his own pockets with the plunder of the State, could nol wholly
abandon the traditional principles of his nation. If the doc-
trines of the advocates of tyrannic ide were suffered gradually to
2o6 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, ch. v.
drop out of sight, it was only because it seemed likely that the
triumph of the Church might be secured more easily in another
„ way. The Spanish statesmen — if statesmen they can
The govern- 3 r . . J .
memstobe be called — saw that the opposition to the aggressions
of Spain had everywhere given rise to strong national
governments, and they fell into the mistake of supposing that
the national governments were everything, and that the national
spirit by which they were supported was nothing. Of the
strength of Protestantism they were utterly and hopelessly
ignorant. They supposed it to be a mere congeries of erroneous
and absurd opinions, which had been introduced by the princes
for the gratification of their own selfish passions, and they never
doubted that it would fall to pieces from its own inherent weak-
ness as soon as the support of the princes was withdrawn.
The Spanish Government, therefore, was no longer to irri-
tate the neighbouring sovereigns by cultivating relations with
their discontented subjects. It would gain their ear by acts of
courtesy, and would offer to support them against domestic
opposition. Above all, in Protestant countries, no stone should
be left unturned to induce the heretic king to seek repose in
the bosom of the Church of Rome. It was by such means as
these that sober men seriously hoped to undo the work of
Luther and of Elizabeth, and, accomplishing in peace what
Philip II. had failed to bring to pass by force of arms, to lay
the hitherto reluctant populations of Northern Europe as an
offering at the feet of the successor of St. Peter.
Before anything could be done by the Spanish Government
to give effect to so far-reaching a scheme, it was necessary to
convert into a formal peace the cessation of hostilities which
had followed on the accession of James to the throne of Eng-
land. Before that could be done there must be some under-
standing on the relation between England and the Dutch
Republic.
Towards the end of July 1603, Aremberg requested James
to mediate between his master and the States.1 A week or two
1 Eeaumont to the King of France, July *7' 1603, King's 3/SS. 124, fol.
Aug, Of
14.
i6o.3 A SPAX1SH AMBASSADOR SENT. 207
later the King wrote to the States, telling them that he had
given no answer to Aremberg till he heard from them whether
they would join the treaty.1 This letter was accom-
Negotiations panied by another from the Privy Council to Sir Ralph
with Spain, yvinwood, the English member of the Dutch Council
assuring him that, though the King was desirous of treating, he
would conclude nothing to their disadvantage. If the Spaniards
declined to admit the States to the negotiations, the English
would refuse the peace altogether. If the States refused his
offer of including them in the treaty, James would even then
insist upon a clause being inserted, assigning a time within which
they might be admitted.2 At the same time permission was
granted to Caron, the Ambassador of the States in London, to
levy a regiment in Scotland. The States, however, were not to
he won by these advances. They firmly refused to treat on any
conditions whatever.3 England must therefore negotiate for
itself, if it was not to be dragged into an interminable war.
In the autumn of 1603 James seems to have been less in-
clined to peace than he had hitherto been. Towards the end
of September Don Juan de Taxis, Count of Villa Mediann,
arrived with letters from the King of Spain ; but
September. . ~ '
there was some informality in the address, and, above
all, he brought no commission to treat. The Duke of Frias,
the Constable of Castile, was expected to bring the necessary
powers after Christmas. Meanwhile, James heard that Villa
Medlana was employing his time in opening communications
with the principal Catholics, and in giving presents to the
In the middle Of January 1604 the Constable arrived at
Bru . He bej ed that the English Commissioners might
be enl it with him there, as he was labouring under an
ind »n.8 This was of course inadmissible. Spain had
1 James to the States, Aug. to, 1603, Winw, \\. 1.
- Lords of Council toWinwood, Aug. i", [6031 Wiitw, ii. 2.
1 Winwood . Aug. 21, .'•'. P. Holland.
1 Beaumont to the King <>f France. ,s"'"' '"' Oct, r' Oct. ,7' 1603,
10, 16, 27, J
King's MSS. 124, fol. 125, 151, 168.
uimont to the King of France, Jan. ~ 1604, King's MSS, 124,
ful. 374 b.
208 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, ch. v.
refused at Boulogne to allow the ambassadors of the Queen of
England to occupy an equal position with her own:
Arrival of she must now acknowledge her defeat by coming to
stable at London to beg for peace. After a delay of nearly
four months the conferences commenced, the Con-
stable ' having sent his powers over to those whom he appointed
to treat in his name.
On May 20 the Commissioners met for the first time. On
the English side were the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Buckhurst
May 20. °f Elizabeth's reign, who had recently been created
Meeting of £ari 0f Dorset ; the Lord High Admiral, the Earl of
the Com- °
missioners. Nottingham, who, as Lord Howard of Effingham,
had seen the Armada fly before him ; the Earl of Devonshire,
fresh from the conquest of Ireland, where he had been known
as Lord Mountjoy : Lord Henry Howard, now raised to the
peerage by the title of Earl of Northampton ; and last, but not
least, the indefatigable Secretary, Lord Cecil.
On the part of Spain appeared the Count of Villa Mediana,
who had been appointed Ordinary Ambassador to England,
and Alessandro Rovida, Senator of Milan, upon whom was laid
the chief burden of sustaining the interests of the King of
Spain. The Archduke had sent as his representatives the
Count of Aremberg, the President Richardot, and the Audiencer
Yerrtyken.
As soon as some merely formal difficulties had been set
aside, Rovida opened the discussion by proposing that England
The con- should enter into an offensive and defensive alliance
ferences. ^j, Spajn>2 This proposition having been instantly
rejected, he then asked for a merely defensive league, or at
least for a mutual promise not to assist those who were in
rebellion against the authority of either Sovereign. This, of
course, brought forward the real question at issue. Richardot
asked Cecil in plain language what he intended to do about the
1 Beaumont to the King of France, May ■ --' 1604, King's MSS. 125,
20,
fol. 233.
2 There is a most full and interesting report of these discussions, of
which the original copy, in Sir T. Edmondes' hand, is among the S. P.
Sp. There is a copy in Add. MSS. 14,033.
'l6o4 THE TREATY WITH SPAIN. 209
States. Fortunately, Cecil had now gained the full support of
his master. James had already told Aremberg that he refused
to consider the Dutch as rebels. Cecil begged the Commis-
sioners not to press him to dispute whether they were rebels or
no. However that might be, ' he would boldly affirm that the
contracts which were made by the deceased virtuous and pious
Princess (whose memory he was ever bound to honour) with
those that call themselves by the name of the United Provinces
were done upon very just and good cause.' He demanded
whether Spain would regard the interruption of trade between
England and Holland as essential to the peace ; and Rovida
was obliged to give way.
In fact, Cecil knew that he was playing a winning game.
It was not his fault that the States refused to be included in
the negotiations, but as they had, he was determined that they
should suffer no loss which could possibly be avoided. He
knew how necessary peace was for Spain. The Spaniards knew
it too, and step by step they gave way before him.
By the treaty which, after six weeks of negotiation, was
eventually drawn up, James vaguely promised that he would
enter into negotiations with the States on the subject
nti of the 'cautionary towns,' wherein he would assign a
£fith?eg£rd competent time 'to accept and receive conditions
nd' agreeable to justice and equity for a pacification to
I,.- had with the most renowned princes, his dear brethren,
which, if the States shall refuse to accept, His Majesty from
thenceforth, as being freed from tlie former conventions, will
determine o\ those towns according as he shall judge it to
I i • ind honourable, wherein the said princes, his lo>.
'liren, shall find that there shall \»- no want in him of those
id offices which can be expected from a friendly prince. '
With su< li unmeaning verbiage, whit h, aa ( '<■< ii a few daj . latei
told Winwood to ''-plain to the States,'2 meant nothing, the
nish Comn I i were for< I d to be < ontent. T!
1 The treaty is in Rynur% nvi, 617, in Latin. The quotations an
taken from an English translation in Harl. J/.s.v. 351.
> il to Winwood, Jurm 1 {, Winw. ii. 23. He pointed oul that
James was to judge what con : greeable to justice and equity.
VI IL. I. P
2io THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. V.
sons of the towns were to be considered neutral. No English
ships were to be allowed to carry Dutch goods between Spain
and the United Netherlands,1 but no diplomatic arts could
gain from the English a promise that their vessels would abstain
from carrying Dutch merchandise elsewhere. It was no less
in vain that the Spaniards urged that James should prohibit
Englishmen from serving in the armies either of the enemies
or of the rebellious subjects of his new ally. All that they
could obtain was a promise that the King would not consent
to the levy of troops for such purposes in his dominions. " His
Majesty," said Cecil in writing to Winwood,2 " promised neither
to punish nor to stay, but only that he will not consent — a word
of which you know the latitude as well as I." Nor was this a
mere equivocation, kept in secret for future use. The Spaniards
knew perfectly well what the clause was worth. They had asked
that the volunteers which were now serving the States should
be persuaded to return, ' which was thought reasonable by their
lordships to be promised to be done, so far forth as the parties
serving there would be induced thereunto ; and thereupon
the articles were so reformed as should neither import any
such public revocation, nor to restrain the going of voluntaries
thither.' At most, they were obliged to be contented with the
promise that James would himself be neutral, and would throw
no hindrances in the way of enlistment for the Archduke's
service.
In estimating the effect of this treaty upon the States, it
must be remembered that by none of its articles were they de-
prived of any assistance from England, which they had enjoyed
since the last agreement in 1598.' At that time, Elizabeth,
considering that the States were able to defend themselves,
stipulated that they should pay the English soldiers in their
service. This state of affairs was not affected by the tieaty
1 This point was not yielded till the Dutch merchants were consulietl,
Wirvw. ii. 23 ; and the Merchants' Statement, S. P. Hoi. (undated).
■ Cecil to Winwood, Sept. 4, Winw. ii. 27.
3 Nor did they lose anything which they gained by the treaty between
France and England in 1603, as the King of France continued to furnish
money.
l6o4 THE TREATY WITH SPAIN. 211
with Spain. The only possible injury which they could receive
would arise from the loss of the co-operation of the English
ships ; but, with their own flourishing navy, it was certain that
this loss would not be severely felt. Dissatisfied as they un-
doubtedly were with what was, in their eyes, a desertion of the
common cause, they could only lay their fingers upon two
clauses of which it was possible to complain. The first was one
by which a certain small number of Spanish ships of Avar were
allowed to take refuge in an English port when driven by stress
of weather, or by want of provisions or repairs ; the other —
inst which Cecil had long stood out, and which was only
conceded at the last moment, probably on account of the mer-
cantile intercuts of the English traders — bound each of the
contra* ting parties to take measures to throw open any ports
belonging to the other which might be blockaded. It led, as
might have been expected, to embarrassing negotiations with
the States. Cecil, however, always maintained that the clause
bound him to nothing. "Howsoever we may dare operant" '
he wrote to Tarry, "by persuasion or treat}-, we mean not to
keep a fleet at sea to make war upon" the Dutch "to maintain
a petty trade of merchandi Finally, it was agreed that if
ever the States should be inclined to make any proposal to the
Archduke, James should be at liberty to present it on their
behalf, and to support it in any negotiations which might
follow.
If the Spaniards were obliged to contenl themselves, in the
clauses which related to the States, with ambiguities which
.. would certainly not be interpreted in their favour,
Trade ■ th they fared little better in their attempt to obtain, from
the Engli Co ioners, even the most indireel
1 the illegality of the English trade with the
Indies. The English negotiatoi 1 proposed that a proclamation
should be i u< d forbidding English subjects from trading with
places actually in tl pation of the Spanish Government,
on condition that Spain would withdraw all pretensions to -
elude them from trading with the in< entnatives. They
1 The parties were bound ' ram' that the porta should ho
opened.
V 2
212 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, ch. v.
refused, however, to bind themselves to obtain a written promise
from the King that he would prohibit his subjects from engaging
in the contraband trade, and the proposition was rejected.
They contented themselves, as Elizabeth would have done if
she had been alive,1 with ignoring the whole subject in the
treaty, though they expressed their opinion strongly enough in
the conference.2 To leave English traders to provide for their
own defence would, in our own days, be sheer insanity. It is
now understood that it is the duty of the Royal Navy to pro-
tect unarmed merchant ships in every quarter of the globe.
In the beginning of the seventeenth century it was not likely
that a single man-of-war would be found even a hundred leagues
from the coasts of the British Islands. The vessels, half-mer-
chantman, half-privateer, which were the terror of the Spanish
authorities in the American seas, never thought of asking for
the protection of the navy. They were perfectly well able to
take care of themselves. The only question, therefore, which
the English Government had to consider was, whether they
should continue the war in Europe in order to force the King
of Spain to recognise the right of these adventurers to trade
within certain limits, or whether the war was from henceforth
to be carried on in one hemisphere alone. If Spain insisted
that there should be no peace beyond the line,3 it would be
better to leave her to reap the fruits of a policy which before-
long would give birth to the buccaneers.
One other question remained to be solved. Cecil had taken
an early opportunity of proposing that English merchants trading
The fn- w*th Spain should be free from the jurisdiction of the
quiMtion. Inquisition. The Spanish Commissioners answered
that where no public scandal was given, the King ' would be
1 In her instructions to the Commissioners at Boulogne, the following
passage occurs : — "If you cannot possibly draw them to consent to any
toleration of trade, that at least you would yield to no prejudice of restric-
tion on that behalf, but to pass that point over." — Winw. i. 212.
- Thus Northampton said : "Our people was a warlike nation, and
having been accustomed to make purchases (i.e. prizes) on the seas, would
not better be reduced than by allowing them free liberty of trade."
* i.e. the line beyond which all lands had been given by the Pope to
the King of Spain.
1604 THE TREATY WITH SPAIX. 213
careful to recommend ' that the Inquisition should leave the
belief of English merchants unquestioned ; but they thought
that those who openly insulted the religion of the country in
which they were, would be justly amenable to its laws. Cecil,
who was fully alive to the propriety of this distinction, but who
knew the iniquitous character of the laws of Spain, protested
that there was no reason that Englishmen ' should be subject
to the passionate censure of the Inquisition, and be so strangely
dealt withal as ordinarily they had been.' If these practices
were to continue, the Spaniards who from time to time visited
England should undergo similar ill-treatment. The subject
then dropped. When it was again taken up, it was agreed,
after a long discussion, that an article should be framed to the
effect that ' His Majesty's subjects should not be molested by
land or sea for matter of conscience, within the King of Spain's
or the Archduke's dominions, if they gave not occasion of public
scandal.' The nature of public scandal was defined by three
secret articles which were appended to the treaty.1 It was
ed that no one should be molested for any act which he
had committed before his arrival in the country ; that no One
should he compelled to enter a church, but that, if he entered
one of his own accord, he should 'perform those duties and
reverences which are used towards the holy sacrament of the
altar;' that if any person should 'see the holy sacrament
coming towards ' him 'in any street,' he should 'do reverence
by bowing ' his ' knees, or else to pass aside by some other
street, or turn into JOme house.' It was also stipulated thai if
the oflft era "t any ships lying in a Spanish harbour did 'exceed
in any matter herein, the Inquisition proceeding against them
by office, IS only tO sequester their own proper goods, and are
to leave free the ships, and all oth tot belonging to the
ofl'eiidei .
These arti<les, which were copied from a similar agrei ment
which had been made between Queen Elizabeth and the Duke
of Alva, contained all that the English < rovernmenl was justified
in demanding. Every man who avoided giving public scani l
would be treed from all molestation.
1 ll'nruf. ii. 29.
214 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. V.
At last, after the work had been done, the Constable of
Castile arrived, and on August 19 James solemnly swore to
Aug. 19. observe the treaty. The proclamation of the peace,
TwonTtoby m tne City, was for the most part received in sullen
James. silence, only broken here and there by exclama-
tions of " God preserve our good neighbours in Holland and
Zealand ! " These good neighbours had just succeeded, by a
masterly stroke of war, in capturing Sluys, to counterbalance
their impending loss of Ostend. On the day on which James
swore to the peace with Spain, there was scarcely a pulpit in
London where thanksgivings were not offered for the success
of the Dutch.1 Nevertheless, those who had negotiated the
treaty had the satisfaction of knowing that they had ended an
arduous struggle by a just and honourable peace. In a few
years the Dutch, left to themselves, would begin to think that
it was not impossible for them to follow the example of
England. No cause arising from the general position of Con-
tinental politics made it advisable to continue the war. The
onward flow of Spanish power, which had threatened in the six-
teenth century to swallow up the Protestant States, had slackened.
The onward flow of Austrian power, which was destined to
inundate Germany in the seventeenth century, was still in the
future. For the present there was a lull, of which England would
do well to take advantage. After the great war with Spain, as in
later times after the great war with France, peace, retrenchment,
and reform were the objects which every true statesman should
have kept in view, if he wished to prepare the vessel of State to
meet the coming storm. It was with this work that
Aug. 20. °
Cecil Cecil hoped to connect his name. He was still in full
vise™" possession of the King's confidence. On August 20,
Cranbome. ^ ^. a^QT ^Q soiemn acceptance of the treaty, he was
raised a step in the peerage, by the title of Viscount Cranbome.
The new resident Spanish Ambassador, the Count of Villa
Mediana, had other things to do besides fulfilling the ordinary
The Spanish functions of his office. He came provided with gold,
,:,ers. to wjn over tne ministers of James to his master's
service. That Northampton made no difficulty in accepting a
1 Caron to the States General, Aug. 21., Add. Jl/SS. 17, 677 G. fol. 173.
l6o4 THE PENSIONERS OF SPA IX. 215
pension of 1,000/. will astound no one. It is as little a mattet-
Northamp- f°r surprise that Suffolk, the old sea captain who had
ton- fought at the side of Raleigh and Essex, refused to
contaminate his fingers with Spanish gold. Lady Suffolk, how-
ever, fell an easy victim, and it is probable that, through her,
L^y Lerma knew as much of her husband's secrets as if
:':'.in(1 the Earl himself had been drawn into the net. She,
4.irc. wjth Dorset and Devonshire, had 1,000/. a year a-
piece. Sir William Monson, the Admiral who commanded in
the Narrow Seas, not only received a pension of 350/. himself,
sir William but assisted the Ambassador in gaining others over,
whilst another pension, of a similar amount, was
assigned to Mrs. Drummond, the first Lady of the
Queen's Bed-Chamber.
But that which is, in every way, most difficult of explanation
is that Cranborne himself condescend d to accept a pension of
1,000/., which was raised to 1,500/. in the following
year.1 Unluckily we know scarcely more than the
bare fact. One of the Spanish ambassadors, indeed, who sub-
sequently had dealings with him, pronounced him to be a venal
traitor, who was ready to sell his soul for money. On the Other
hand we know that, up to the day of his death, his policy when-
ever he had free play, was decidedly and increasingly anti-
Spanish. In the negotiations which were just over, he had been
the steady opponent of the Spanish < laims, and, almost, at the
very moment when lie was bargaining for a pension, he
interpreting die treaty, as far as it was possible,
in favour of tin- enemies of Spaia We know also, from the evi-
dence <>f Sir Walter Cope, who, shortly after his death, wrote a
(jci, • his 1 hanu ter, al a time when every sentence would l><-
scanned by unfriendly eyes, thai he \\a, m.! ible t<> ordi
nary corruption i and thisstatem< nt is 1 onfirmed by the negative
I the silence of the letter-writers of the day on tin.
1 Memoir left by Villa Mediana, July -•- 1605, Sim WSS.,
2544. The name- '.f the Earl of Dunbar, Lord Kinloss, Sir T. I
Sir I. Ramsay, >nd Sir J. Lindsay, are given for pen :
led <>r not pai<l at all. Comp i Digby to the King, Sept 9, 1613,
Dec. 16, 1615, April 3, 1616, S. /: Spain,
216 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, CH. v.
score, though their letters teem with stories of the bribery
which prevailed at Court as soon as power had passed into
other hands
There can, however, be no doubt that though he was gener-
ally looked upon as a man who was inaccessible to ordinary
„ . bribery, he was never regarded as indifferent to
Conjecture ■" °
as to his money. He had heaped up a considerable fortune
intention. .. . /-io 11 iiij
in the service of the State, although he had not con-
descended to use any improper means to obtain wealth. It is
possible that, as soon as the peace was concluded, — thinking
as he did that it was likely to be permanent, — he offered to do
those services for the Spanish Government which, as long as
it was a friendly power, he could render without in any way
betraying the interests of his own country ; whilst, with his very
moderate standard of morality, he did not shrink from accepting
a pecuniary reward for what he did. This is probably the ac-
count of his relations with the French Government, from which
also, according to a by no means unlikely story, he accepted a
pension.1
But it is plain that, even if this is the explanation of his
original intentions, such a comparatively innocent connection
with Spain soon extended itself to something worse, and that
he consented to furnish the ambassadors, from time to time,
with information on the policy and intentions of the English
Government. Vet the despatches of those ambassadors are
filled with complaints of the spirit in which he performed his
bargain. Of the persistence with which he exacted payment
there can be no doubt whatever. Five years later, when the
opposition between the two Governments became more decided,
he asked for an increase of his payments, and demanded that
they should be made in large sums as each piece of informa-
tion was given. When afterwards England took up a position
of almost direct hostility to Spain, the information sent home
by the ambassadors became more and more confused.
Whatever the truth may have been, it is certain that Cran-
1 At least Northampton told Sir R. Cotton that he believed that this
was the case.— Examination of Sir Robert Cotton, Cott. MSS, Til. B. viii.
fol. 489.
1604 TREATY WITH FRANCE. 217
borne was at no time an advocate of a purely Spanish policy.
England and He knew well that, in order to preserve the indepen-
France. dence of Europe, it was necessary that England should
remain on friendly terms with France, which was now recovering,
under Henry IV., the vigour which it had lost during the civil
wars, and was standing in steady, though undeclared, opposition
to Spain. Vet, necessary as this French alliance was to England,
it was not unaccompanied by difficulties. Cranborne was not
anxious to see another kingdom step into the place which had
lately been occupied by Spain. Above all things, he did not wish
to see the Spanish Netherlands in the hands of the power which
already possessed such a large extent of coast so near to the
shore.-, of England. The prospect of danger which might pos-
sibly arise from such an increase of the dominions of the King
of France, imparted a certain reticence, and even vacillation,
to his dealings with the French ambassador, which increased
tlie uncertainty of the policy of the English Government.
Happily, whatever might occur in future times, there were,
at tlie ao ession of James, no points of difference between France
and England, excepting a few difficulties which had
been thrown in the way of the English merchants
who were engaged in the French trade. These were,
however, removed by the signature of a commercial treaty,
which dire ted the appointment of a permanent commission,
aposed of two English and two French merchants, who were
to it at Rouen tor the settlement ofdisputes. Henry also gave
Up the iniquitous droit Jdithainc, by \vhi< li the King of fiance
laid claim to the goods of all foreigners dying within his
dominion -.'
There was more diffii ulty in coming to an agreement upon
the meaning of the treaty which had been signed at Hampton
. Court m 1603. According to its stipulations, France
had furnished tin- Dutch with a considerable sum o(
money, deducting a third part from the debt owed
by Henry to the King of England. As soon as the
Spanish treaty was signed, Cranborne, who knew that Jami had
no money to spare, declared that the agreement with France
was no longer in force— an opinion wln< h appears to have
1 Kymcr, xvi. 645.
2i8 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, ch. v.
derived some colour from the somewhat ambiguous terms in
which the treaty was couched. The French Government was
of a contrary opinion, and continued to furnish the sums re-
quired by Holland in yearly payments, and to deduct a third
of these payments from its debt to England.1
The relations with the States-General required far more
careful consideration. It was certain that they would feel ag-
grieved at the treaty with Spain, and it was equally certain that
the Spaniards would urge the English Government to break off
Th u -k a'^ intercourse with the Republic. The first difficulty
adeofthe was presented by the expectation of the Spaniards
pons by the that the English merchant vessels would be supported
by their Government in forcing the blockade of the
ports of Flanders. The merchants themselves were eager to
open a new trade, and a large number of vessels made the
attempt to get through the Dutch squadron. The Dutch were
not likely to consent to see the fruit of their efforts to starve
out their enemies thus thrown away in a day. The English
vessels were stopped, and their crews were subjected to no
gentle treatment.2 Nor were the Dutch content with blockading
the ports of Flanders. They pretended to be authorized to
stop all trade with Spain, and captured upon the high seas some
English vessels which were employed in carrying corn to that
country.3 This latter pretension was, of course, inadmissible ;
but Salisbury had no intention of supporting the merchants in
forcing an actually existing blockade. In order, however, to
fulfil the stipulation by which England was bound to take
measures for opening the trade, a despatch was sent to Sir
Ralph Winwood, who represented the English Government
in Holland, directing him to request the States to be more
moderate in their proceedings, ' and to beg them to agree to
some regulations under which trade might, to a certain extent,
be still carried on.' 4 A little later, a direct proposition was
1 An account of the money paid is among the S. P. Holland, 1609.
- Winwood to Cecil, Sept. 12, 1604; IVinw. ii. 31 ; and Sept. 28,
1604, S. P. Holland.
3 Edmondes to Winwood, Sept. 30, 1604 ; Winw. ii. 33.
4 Nottingham, &c, to Winwood, Oct. 25, 1604, S. P. Holland.
1604 THE DIFFICULTIES OF NEUTRALITY. 219
made, that the States should allow English vessels to go up to
Antwerp, on payment of a toll.1 The States refused to accept
any proposition of the kind, and the ports remained blockaded
till the end of the war. The English merchants who com-
plained to their Government of the loss of their vessels received
but cold answers, and were given to understand that there was
no intention of rendering them any assistance. The pretension
of the States to cut off all trade from Spain itself, without en-
forcing an actual blockade, was quietly dropped.
Although James had refused to advance any further sums of
money to the States, he still allowed the levy of troops for their
service in his dominions. A similar permission could
1 for not be refused to the Archduke ; but every difficulty
tfrie Si 111 ■ 1 • 1 ,
seems to have been thrown in his way by the
Government3
It was not easy to preserve the neutrality of the English
ports. Questions were sure to arise as to the exact limits of
. the sovereignty of England. The crews of the fleet
which guarded the Straits, under the command of
neutrality. ,,. ....... ,, .....
Sir \\ imam Monson, were roused to indignation at
the treatment which the sailors Oil hoard the hum hant vessels
endeavouring to break the blockade had received at the hands
of the Dutch. Whilst, therefore, on land scarcely an English-
was to he found who did not favour the cause of the States,
the sailors on hoard the fleet were animated by very different
feelings.1 They even went so far as to capture a Dutch ship
whi< h was coming up the Straits with the hooty which had
1 taken out of a Spanish prize.4 The excuse probably was
that it had come too 111 ai the English < oast. The capture was,
• ever, annulled hy the Courl I >l Admiralty."'
h Government, in the hands of Lerma, was dis-
1 Winwood to Cranborne, Feb. 10, 1605, .v. /'. Holland,
- Beaumont to the Kins -1 France, Mm,!, '• April '''' £*2Z-22i 1605,
K 19, * a6i June 1, J
MSS. 127, fol. 2yi ; 12S, foL 17/', 103.
* Chamherlain to Winwood, Feb. 2f>, [605, Win-.', ii. 48.
' Beaumont to the King of France, 1605, Xing' i MSS, 127,
fol. 157.
5 Beaumont to Villcroi, April — 1605, King's MSS, 12$, fol. ibid.
220 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, ch. v.
tracted in its English policy between two tendencies which it
was difficult to reconcile. As a temporal potentate the King
of Spain needed a good understanding with England to enable
him to overpower the Dutch. As a spiritual potentate — no
other name befits the position which he claimed — he was bound,
by the tradition of his house, to claim a right of interference
with the religious condition of every Protestant country, which
made a real understanding with England impossible. During
i6o his short visit to England the Constable of Castile
Proposed had been informed by the Queen of her wish that
between* her eldest son Henry should marry the Infanta Anne,
Hei!ry ami the eldest daughter of Philip III., who, as the future
the infanta. Philip IV. was yet unborn, was at that time the
heiress of the Spanish throne. James, it would seem, did not
raise any objection, and Northampton, whether truly or not,
assured the Constable that Cranborne was favourable to the
project. The Constable,1 who was, no doubt, prepared for the
overture, declared that his master would gladly give his consent,
if he could obtain satisfaction as regarded education and re-
ligion. When he left London on August 25, he left with Villa
Poposai to Mediana, who remained as resident ambassador, in-
Princeashe structions to inform James that if the negotiation was
a Catholic. t0 bg carried on, his son must be sent to Spain to be
educated as a Catholic.
Such, according to the two ambassadors, was the only
human means of reducing England to the Catholic religion
and to the bosom of the Roman Church.2 It is no wonder
that the immediate effect of the proposal was to open James's
eyes to the real views of Spain, and to make him yield to the
pressure under which he was constantly placed to hold a
stricter hand with the English Catholics.
If James had been hitherto tolerant, his tolerance had been,
in great part, owin^ to his failure to recognise that
James's talk ° * ° , ° .
about union the Papal system was unchangeable. Not very long
before the Constable's departure, he had been chat-
tering, with an agent of the 1 Hike of Lorraine, of his readiness to
1 Notes left with Villa Mediana, Simancas MSS, 841, 134.
2 Villa Mediana to Philip III. ^^2 ibid. 841, i?o.
1 bept. t,
1604 PERSECUTION OF THE CATHOLICS. 221
acknowledge the Roman Church as his mother, and the Pope
as Universal Bishop with general spiritual jurisdiction. If the
Church of Rome would make one step in the direction of union,
he was ready to make three. It could not be said that he was
obstinate. He was quite ready to believe all that was in the
Scriptures, and in the teaching of the Fathers of the first three
centuries. He took more account of the works of St. Augus-
tine and St. Bernard than of those of Luther and Calvin. He
was sorry that he had been obliged, against his will, to consent
to the new Recusancy Act, but it was in his power to put it in
execution or not, as he thought best, and he would never punish
the Catholics for religion only.1
It was a rude awakening from James's dream of a union in
which Rome was to abandon its distinctive principles, when he
was confronted with a demand that his son should be educated
in a foreign land, in order — it was impossible to doubt the in-
tention of the demand — that he might some day bring England
under that yoke which James himself refused to bear.
Unluckily for the English Catholics, their case was again
under the consideration of the Government when this demand
was made. Without instructions from the King,
1 .,,11
Act some of the judges had taken upon themselves t<>
< arry the Recusancy Act into effect. At Salisbury a
seminary priest named Sagar was condemned and
Uted. A layman suffered a similar fate on the charge Of
abetting him in tin- exer< 1 ;e of his functions.2 At Manchester
several \« rSOnS suffered death.3 It is probable that these liar
barities were the work of the judges themselves. It was quite
in accordance with Jai ligence of details that he
1 Del Bufalo to Aldobrandino, Sept. " (implying an earlier date for the
con-.' . Roman Transcripts, R. <>. The embassy from I.
mentioned in ( rl< ton' " 1 "( hambcrlain, Aug. 27, S. /'. Dam. ix.25
1 ( halloner' Aft ionary Priests, ii. 44.
* Jardine, Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot, 45, from the Rusbton
11. a ert that the judges, before proceeding on thi uit,
1 ived fresh instructions to • nfor< e ihe 1 1 nal itatutes. Bui here, and in
many p . he has been misled, by following othei writers in the
clu il mistake of upposing that Feb. 14, 1604, in Winwood'ii, 49,
it I eb. 14, 1603-4 instead uf 1604 5.
222 THE EXFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
should have neglected to give positive orders to avoid blood-
shed ; and the fact that he did give such orders in the follow-
ing year, even when he was urging the judges to put in force the
penal laws, is a presumption against his having been the author
of these executions.1
It is by no means improbable that the judges brought back
with them a report of the increasing number of recusants.2
Sept. s- Either through alarm at this danger, or through
u>Tr™ide°n anno)'ance at the extraordinary demand which had
over the just been made to him by the Spanish Ambassador,
banishment l
of priests. James determined at first to fall back on his
original plan : to exile the clergy and to spare the laity. On
September 5, commissioners were appointed to preside over the
banishment of the priests.3 It was not a measure which was
likely to prove effectual. On September 21, such priests as
were then in prison were sent across the sea. From the other
side they addressed a dignified and respectful letter to the
Privy Council, complaining of the injustice of their treatment,
and declaring that they were in no wise bound to remain
abroad. Before the expulsion of the priests, the Council on
September 14 discussed the case of the lay Catholics, and by
a considerable majority recommended that the law
lie laity to should not be put in force against them. As Cran-
borne voted with this majority, it is to be presumed
that the resolution of the Council was in accordance with the
wishes of the King.4
It was hardly likely that persecution, once commenced,
1 The Nuncio at Paris, no doubt from information derived from the
English Catholics, says that the executions were 'senza la participatione
di quel Re. (Del Iiufalo to Aklobrandino, Aug. — Roman Transcripts,
A'. 0.) Bacon seems to imply that the judges in Elizabeth's reign some-
times acted as I have supposed their successors in the reign of James to
have done, infel. mem. Eliz. Lit. and Prof. Works, i. 301.
2 The reported increase of recusants in the diocese of Chester, referred
to at p. 202, is made up to August.
3 Commission to Ellesmere and others, Sept. 5, Rymer, xvi. 597.
* The Banished Priests to the Council, Sept. 24, Tierney's DodJ.
iv. xc.
1604 PERSECUTION OF THE CATHOLICS. 223
would stop here.1 Thomas Pound, an aged Lancashire Catholic,
who had suffered imprisonment in the late reign for his
Pounds' religion, took up the case of the unfortunate persons
who had suffered at the late assizes in the northern
circuit. Serjeant Phelips had condemned a man to death
simply ' for entertaining a Jesuit,' and it was said that he had
declared that, as the law stood, all who were present when
mass was celebrated were guilty of felony.2 Pound presented a
petition to the King, on account of which he was arrested, and,
by order of the Privy Council, was prosecuted in the Star
Chamber. According to one account, he merely complained
of the persecution which the Catholics were undergoing, and
of the statements made by Phelips at Manchester. There is,
however, reason to suppose that he charged Phelips with words
which did not in reality proceed from him.8 Whatever his
oflcnrc might have been, the sentence of the Star Chamber was
a cruel one. After browbeating and abusing him for some
time, the Court condemned him to a fine of a thousand pounds,
and to be pilloried at Westminster, and again at Lancaster. In
all probability he did not undergo his punishment at W
minster. He was taken to Lancaster at the spring assizes of
the following year, and having there made submission, he was
apparently allowed to return home. His fine was first reduced
to 100/., * and in the end was remitted altogether.1
1 Notes "fa debate in the Council Sept. ''' Simaucas M.S.S. 841, 184.
The majority wen Northampton, Cranbome, Dorset, Suffolk, Northum-
nd, Nottingham, and Lennox; the minority, Burghley, Kinloss, and
Ellesmere.
2 More to Winwood, Dec. 2, 1604, Witrw. ii. 36. Seejardine, 11.45.
* At lea 1 1 cannot 1 id in any other way the words in the
proceedings al Vork and Lancaster, ■'>". /'. Dom, v. 73. The true date is
in the spring <<( 1605. Ii is calendared among the undated papers <>f
Thep ' Mr. Pound there," i.e. al Lancaster, "being
t Ived both l>y tin: Attorney of the Wards, and Mr. Tilsley, to whom
he n in the Star Chamber for testimony, and by all others the
if the Peace at the formei and this assizes pre ent, of the untruth
of his infermation to His Majesty, he thei fault."
4 Compare I lasmon [oh ■ • , Col \g, 1610, p. 238, with Abl
Antilogia, f<>l. 132/'. Li-' , .S'. /'. Pom. xliii. 52.
• Al least I have been unable to find any trace of its payment in the
Ret ks of the Exchequer
224 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, ch. v.
About the time when Pound was before the Star Chamber,
it was resolved to take another downward step in the career of
Fines for persecution. In spite of the assurance given by the
again're* Council to the Catholic gentlemen, towards the end
quired. 0f 1603, it was now determined that the fines for re-
cusancy should be again exacted from the thirteen wealthy
gentlemen who were liable to pay 20/. a month. The un-
fortunate men had given no pretext for this harsh treatment.
It is quite possible that James's only motive was his extreme
want.1 Still there was much wanting to fill up the measure of
the Elizabethan persecution. Thirteen persons alone suffered,
whilst as yet no step was taken to trouble those who were not
possessed of sufficient wealth to expose them to the monthly
fine.
Such half-measures could not last long. Those who were
most concerned in watching the course taken by the Govern-
ment must have known that at any moment they might be
exposed to all the weight of the old system, the terrors of which
were still suspended over their heads. An event which occurred
in the beginning of 1605 brought the blow down upon them.
Towards the end of 1604 Sir James Lindsay was ready to
proceed to Rome. He had been well received by James, who
Nov.ag. had granted him a pension, and he was entrusted
Linlsaygoes w'1'1 genera^ messages of civility to the Pope, which
t Rome. were backed by the paper of instructions — a copy
of which must have found its way to Rome some months
previously.2 As he was on his journey, he gave out that he
was employed by James to carry a message to the Pope, though
he acknowledged that he was not travelling in any public
capacity.3 On his arrival, he saw Cardinal Aldobrandino, who
1 The date of the resumption of these payments is Nov. 28, 1604,
though the measure may have been resolved on some little time before.
The fact that the fines were renewed before the payments for lands were
demanded, is placed beyond doubt by the Receipt Books of the Ex-
chequer. They were paid by the same thirteen persons who had paid at
James's accession, and were reckoned from the 30th of July, the day of
the pardon ot arrears.
- Having been delivered by Parry to the Nuncio at Paris. See p. 141.
* This seems to be the best way of reconciling the statement of Parry
S. P. Ft. Jan. 9, 1605), who says that in Germany and Savoy Lindsay
1604 LINDSAY'S MISSION. 225
introduced him to the Pope.1 According to a report which
reached Paris, he gave out, not only that the Queen was already
a Catholic in heart, but that James was ready to follow her ex-
ample if only he could have enlightenment on some particular
points, such as that of the Pope's supremacy over kings. Ac-
cording to his own account, he did not say a word beyond his
instructions.2 But James's language varied from time to time,
and he had often used phrases bearing a meaning much stronger
than he would have been ready deliberately to assent to. At
all events, the Pope gathered from Lindsay that something
might be done with James. With his fervent hope
1 Pope of winning back England to the See of Rome, and
his ignorance of the real feelings of Englishmen,
he was ready to catch at the slightest symptom of a
change. There was a passage in the instructions which may
have been sufficient for a sanguine mind, especially when it
had received the assistance of Lindsay's comments. James had
'arcd that he would never reject reason when he heard it,
and that he would never be deterred by his own 'pre occupied
self-Opinion' from receiving anything which might lie proved
to be 'lawful, reasonable, and without corruption.' Clement
I heard something very like this before. In the mouth of
Henry IV. su< h word-, had been the precursors of conversion ;
why should not the same thing take place again? The Pope
was overjoyed : lie immediately appointed a committee of
twelve cardinals for the purpose of taking into consideration the
dition of England,' Cardinal Camerino talked of sendin
tothe I. opyoi Baronius's huge ' Church History,' which
uncritical as il w, -I'd at Rome as establishing
bad qualified himself ' with the title of Hi Majesty's Ami-. r, with
Lindsay's own declaration at Venice, that he had no commit ion From
King. Villeroi to Beaumont, I ''1604. Kin . 1.7,1.1.77.
1 Aldobrandino t<> the King, Jan. '3' 1605, .S'. /'. Italy.
3 Lindsay to og, Jan. 1 ti 15, S. /'. Italy. Compare Villeroi
t Beaumont 1 1 127, fol. 77.
' With 1 letter, compare Parry to Cranborne, 1 b. 7 (true
. Jan. 7), 1605, S. /'. France.
Vol, I. (j
r>
226 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. v.
the claims of the Popes upon a thoroughly historical basis.1 The
Pope ordered that prayers, in which he himself joined with great
earnestness, should be offered up for the welfare of the King and
for the conversion of England.2 Lindsay was informed that
the Cardinals had recommended that some one should be sent
to England, but that they had not been able to decide whether
they should send 'a legate, a nuncio, or some secular gentleman.'
James was greatly annoyed.3 Eor a week or two all Europe
believed that he was about to renounce his faith. He im-
February. mediately directed his ambassador at Paris to declare
?e^uponhe tnat ne nac^ no intention of changing his religion. If
james. the Nuncio brought him Cardinal Camerino's present
he was to take it rather than give offence by refusing ; but he
believed that it was all a trick to make men suppose that he was
engaged in secret negotiations with Rome.
These rumours reached England at an unfortunate time.
During the winter James had been employing his energies in
his attempt to suppress Puritanism, and was therefore already
labouring under a suspicion of a leaning towards Popery.4 All
in whom he reposed confidence, and who were not either
openly or secretly Catholic, wished for the re-imposition of the
fines. "I love not," wrote Cranborne, a little after this time, " to
yield to any toleration ; a matter which I well know no creature
living dare propound to our religious sovereign. I will be much
less than I am or rather nothing at all, before I shall ever
become an instrument of such a miserable change."5 James's
1 See Pattison's Casanbon, 362.
2 Lindsay to the King, J;™' ?6', 1605, S. P. Italy. For Lindsay's account
of himself, see also Lindsay to Semple, Sept. 18, 1605,3". P.Spain.
1 Henry IV. told the Nuncio Karbcrini that James had spoken to his
ambassador as if the affair of Lindsay was his principal grievance. Barbe-
rini to Valenti, May — Roman Transcripts, P.O.
* " I wish, with all my heart, that the like order were taken, and given
not only to all bishops, but to a magistrates and justices, to proceed
against Papists and recusants, who, of late, partly by this round dealing
against Puritans, and partly by reason of some extraordinary favour, have
prown mightily in number, courage, and influence." — Archbp. Hutton to
Cranborne, Dec. 18, 1604, Winw. ii. 40.
3 Cranborne to Hutton, Feb., Lodge, iii. 125.
l6os THE RECUSANCY ACTS EXFORCED. 227
principles were once more tried, and they gave way beneath
the test He would prove the purity of the motives which led
him to persecute the Puritans by adding to his offence the per-
secution of the Catholics also.
He made his determination known on February 10. On
that day he was to address the Council on the subject of the
He deter- Northamptonshire petition. " From the Puritans,"
bfmxtSe1 we are told by one who was probably an eye-witness
penal laws. 0f tne scene> « he proceeded to the Papists, pro-
tecting his utter detestation of their superstitious religion, and
that he was so far from favouring it as, if he thought that his
son and heir after him would give any toleration thereunto,
he would wish him fairly buried before his eyes. Besides, he
charged the Lords of the Council and the Bishops present that
they should take care themselves, and give order to the judges
of the land, to the justices and other inferior officers, to see
the laws speedily executed with all rigour against both the said
extremes." ' Three days later, the Chancellor charged the judges
to put the laws into execution at the ensuing assizes, only tal.
care to shed no Mood. A similar intimation was conveyed, by
the Recorder of London, to the Lord Mayor and Aldermen.
The effect of these admonitions was not long in showing
itself. On the day after the Lord Mayor had been informed
Of the King's wishes, forty-nine persons were indicted at the
ions which were then being held for London and Middlesex.
Indifferent parts of England five thousand five hundred !
sixty persons were convi< ted Oi re< nam y.'2
It must not, however, he supposed that anything like this
number were actually called upon to surrender the two th
Finp<! of their lands required by the law. Large numb
|iy I""1 off by giving a small bribe to
orothei oi the King's Scottish favourites who '
mostly favourable to the Catholics, or even by offering to the
1 to th.- Bishop of Norwich, Feb. 1 :. [605. Ellis, 21
215. Chamberlain to Win wood, Feb. r.6, 1605, fVinw. ii. 48. In the
printed copy the date is incorrectly ^iven as Feb. 26.
2 See the papers prime. 1 in Tien,-)', Dodd. iv. App. x < i i . The originals
arc in the S. /'. Dom. xii. So and liv. 65. Mr. Tierney has ante-dated the
Q 2
228 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORM/TV. CH. v.
King himself a payment less than that which the law allowed
him to take.1 The number of those who paid the full two-
thirds, in consequence of these indictments, was one hundred
and twelve. There were also sixty-five persons whose lands
had been previously sequestered. The rents of the lessees of
these lands had been allowed to fall into arrear, and these
arrears were now demanded. In the year 1606, when these
arrangements had come into full operation, many of those
whose lands had paid in the previous years were exempted
from payment. The total number of persons whose lands were
charged in that year was one hundred and sixty-two. Of this
number, twenty-eight had paid even in the exceptional year
1604, forty-two had been liable to pay, but had been excused,
and the remaining ninety-two had been fresh additions to
the list since the spring of 1605.2 The amount received
from this source, which in 1604 had been 1,132/., rose in 1606
to 4,397^-
first of these papers by a year. The latter, which is placed in the calendar
among the undated papers of 1606, may be restored to its true place by
comparing it with v. 73 ; the date of which is fixed, by the mention of
Pound, to the spring of 1605.
1 News from London, Sept. °' Roman Transcripts, R 0.
20,
■ These calculations are based upon the Receipt Books of the Ex-
chequer. The difficulty of collecting so many names and figures from a
series of accounts extending over six thick folio volumes, is so great that
it is quite possible that a few names may have escaped me. I am, how-
ever, sure that any errors of this kind are not of sufficient consequence to
affect the substantial accuracy of the results. The subsequent calculations
have been made in the following manner : — In 1604, 37 persons were
charged, and arrears were afterwards paid by the lessees of the lands of
65 persons. Two names appear in both lists, being charged for different
• ■-, of lands. Accounting for these, we have a total of IOO, as the
number of those liable previously to February 1605. Of these, 70 only
reappear in 1606, and there are 92 new names. In 1605, there were 38
new names, of which 18 reappear in 1606, and 20 do not reappear. Add-
ing this 20 to 92, we have 112 as the highest possible number of persons
losing their lands in consequence of indictments in 1605. Persons indicted
after Easter 1606 would not be liable to payment till after Easter 1607.
On the other hand, it is not impossible that some of these 112 may have
been possessed of lands which had been leased out in the Queen's times,
1605 THE RECUSANCY ACTS ENFORCED. 229
Besides these additions to the list of those who were liable
to payments for land, one name had been added to those who
were called upon for the statutary fine of 20/. a month. The
number of those who made this high payment was now fourteen,
till the death of Sir Thomas Tresham, in September 1605, again
reduced it to thirteen.1
A smaller amount was obtained by the seizure of the goods
and chattels of recusants. This in 1605 reached 36S/., in
1606 472/. It must have been a particularly annoying mode
of obtaining money ; and it is plain, from the smallness of the
sums which were levied from each person, that it was regarded
as a means of rendering the poor Catholics as uncomfortable as
ible.
The arrears which were called for in 1605 2 reached the sum
of 3,39V- J but as the yearly or half-yearly rent due in that
year was reckoned togi ther with the payments which had lapsed
in former years, a sum of 2,000/. will be more than enough to
cover all that can properly be called arrears.
thoo ime reason they had not paid in 1604, and had not been called
upon for arrears. These arrears were, of course, paid l>y the l< ■ ,
though ihey probably fell eventually on the owners. Mr. Jardine's figures,
(Narrative, p. 19) are <|uite erroneous. He must have been led astray by
inefficient copyist; as the figures in the MS. from which they are
taken are quite plainly written ; see Notes ami Queries, 2nd series, ix. 317.
' Though sixteen were liable, only thirteen had actually [laid at any
time
•' In this statement, the years mentii ned an- financial years, co ien
I er-day. I have no wish t" say anything which may diminish the
ibation with which the whole system mu 1 I"- n 1 led, but it i
tainly rather cur'n 1 real facts of the case with the 1
1 ' \ rd, who n mon 1 1 ely followed by sui c< eding
writers, lb ayi that the 20/. fii nanded, 'no! only foi the
the whole period "l tin iu pen ion ; ' thai ' the l' 1
default in th< re of all his
two-lhii Is.' Whal bappeni d
enough, but the 20/. men were oevei idled upon for arrears, and, as
far as I have been able to trace tie . He- fori and
chattels were only demanded from those from whom no lands had 1
I. Mr. Jar line, amongst Others, adopted these erroneous statements,
Narrative <<J the Giuifowa'cr /'lot, 23.
230 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY. CH. V.
The Catholic gentry must have been especially aggrieved
by the knowledge that much of the money thus raised went
into the pockets of courtiers. For instance, the profits of the
lands of two recusants were granted to a footman,1 and this was
by no means an isolated case.
If the victims were dissatisfied, zealous Protestants, on the
other hand, doubted whether enough had been done. When
the iudees were leaving London for the summer
Protestant . ° ...... , ,
vi^wofthe assizes, James again laid his commands upon them
not to spare the Papists. Upon this, Sir Henry
Neville2 wrote to a friend, telling him that it was 'generally
feared that there ' would ' be none of the priests executed, with-
out which,' he doubted, 'all the other provision ' would 'be
fruitless ; for they are the root and fountain of all the mischief.'
. . . "For my part," he proceeded to write, " I am persuaded
they are irrecoverable, and will never be satisfied nor made
sure to the State unless they have their whole desire at the
full. And, however they pretend now to seek only impunity, yet,
that obtained, assuredly they will not rest there, till they have
obtained a further liberty. Therefore, if we mean not to grant
all, we were as good deny all, and put them to an issue betimes,
either to obey or not, lest it break out alieniore tempore, when
they be more prepared, and we peradventure entangled in some
other business."
The equal repression of Puritans and Catholics, the old
policy of Elizabeth, which James now adopted, was the policy
favoured by Cranborne. That statesman, so energetic and
diligent, but with so little power of forecasting the future, stood
higher than ever in his master's favour. On May 4, 1605, he was
created Earl of Salisbury, in reward for his many services.
Thus ended this attempt at toleration, the first made
1 Worcester to the Council, June 17, 1605 ; .S'. P. Dom. xiv. 43. The
money was not given to the grantee till after it had been paid into the
Exchequer, so that the owner of the land possibly knew nothing of his own
particular case ; but he must have had a general knowledge of these pro-
ceedings.
2 Neville to Winwood, Winw. ii. 77.
1605 PROSPECTS OF TOLERATION. 231
by any English Government. James I. had given way, partly
no doubt through lack of firmness. But, in the
in'theUwaeyS main he had succumbed to the real difficulties of the
of toleration.
situation.
The Catholics were no petty sect to which a contemptuous
toleration might be accorded. They were still a very consider-
able portion of the community, even if the calculation frequently
made at that time, that they amounted to one-third of the
population, be discarded as a gross exaggeration. No doubt,
to the majority of the Catholic laity, smarting under recent per-
secution, the calm upon which they had entered soon after the
King's accession, was sufficient gain. But to the clergy it could
1. The priests were men who had hazarded their lives to
disseminate that which they believed to be divine truth, pure
and undefiled. They could not be content now with the mere
edification of their existing congregations. They would feel
themselves to be base indeed if they did not fulfil the mission
on which they had come. Yet, as the number of Catholics in-
sed — when the fear of persecution was removed it was cer-
tain to increase itwould not he the mere growth of an obnoxious
religion with which a Protestant Government would find itself
fronted The Church which these men joined was pledged
to change the moral and intellectual atmosphere in which
I glishmen moved and breathed. Neither freedom of thought
nor political liberty had as yet readied their perfect develop-
ment in England, but it was beyond doubt that the victory of
the Papacy would extingui h both. Even the received maxim,
of the nineteenth century would hardly be proof against a
.and for toleration put forward by a community which
.<■<] toleration to all those principles on which
our society i 1 ba >ed, if" it had any < han< e oi a< quiring suffii ient
strength to emploj I others thai pei ie< ution which in its
own case it deprecated. The one condition which renders
toleration possible 1- a sei f se< urity ; 1 ither from the over
whelming Strength of those who have the power to pel it 1 lite,
or from the existenc e of a general opinion adverse to the em-
ployment of force in the suppression of opinion. It is certain
that in the England of the opening of the seventeenth century
232 THE ENFORCEMENT OF CONFORMITY, ch. v.
no such condition was present. No general feeling in favour
of toleration existed. Whether English Protestantism were
strong enough to defy the Papacy and all its works may be a
question to which different answers may be given, but there
can be no doubt that those who were intrusted with its guar-
dianship did not feel confident of the results if it were left un-
supported by the State. For a quarter of a century the tide of
the Catholic reaction had been flowing steadily on upon the
Continent. In Germany and in France the Jesuits had been
gaining ground persistently, and those who governed England
were determined that, as far as in them lay, it should not be so
here.
If we may fairly regret that the National Church had not
been able to enlarge its borders in accordance with the advice
given by Bacon and the House of Commons, it was well that
the favoured portion of it should be that which was unhampered
by the petty susceptibilities of the lower Puritanism. A great
intellectual struggle with Rome was impending, a struggle
which must be conducted on other lines than those which had
sufficed for the reasoners of the preceding century. It would
not now suffice to meet dogmatism with dogmatism. The
learning of Baroniusand Bellarmine must be met with a deeper,
wider learning than theirs ; by a more accurate knowledge of
the history of the past, by a firmer grasp on the connection of
truth, and on the realities of human nature. It was perhaps
inevitable that those who were preparing themselves for this
work, should be repelled by the narrowness of contemporary
Puritanism, and should not perceive that they too represented
a phase of religion which the Church could ill afford to be
without.
As yet the evil was not great. The Calvinistic doctrines
were not proscribed There was no very strict inquisition into
the absolute conformity of a minister with every minute require-
ment of the rubrics, provided that he conformed on those points
which had recently attracted attention. The Church under
James was still in the main a national one. But the danger of its
becoming a sectional Church was there, partly because after
the cessation of danger from without men's minds were inclined
1604 THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 233
to follow divergent courses, partly because the Church had
attached itself to the State, and in James's hands the State
was already becoming less broadly national than it had been in
the days of Elizabeth.
It was this danger which was the main result of the Hamp-
ton Court Conference. The teaching of an age will always
reflect its sentiments as well as its knowledge. James had
now ruled that those who shared in those sentiments should
be excluded from teaching. The Church of England was not
to be quite as comprehensive as Bacon wished it to be. If it
should come to pass that a Sovereign arose who wished it to
be less comprehensive still, it might go hard with that Sover-
eign. It may be that the course taken would ultimately have
been inevitable, that it would have been impossible to provide
any organization in which such a man as Whitgift could have
worked harmoniously with such a man as Cartwright. But if
this wer ase, some place must be found for the proscribed
elements. If the Church was to cease to be comprehensive it
must heroine tolerant. Men must agree to worship separately
in peace if they cannot agree to worship peacefully together.
A system in whi< h an established Church is surrounded by
independent tolerated churches may not be ideally perfect, and
even in England it is not likely to hold its own forever. Hut it
was the only solution of the problem fitted for the seventeenth
tury when once Bacon's solution had been rejected. It
■ the national religion in a new way that combination of
nization with individual liberty which Bacon had seen to
lie indi le. In tin- development of this religious liberty
the Catholics, little .1 , they knew it, were even more deeply
interested than tin- Puritans. Only when the two parties whi< h
divided Pri I nd were pacified, either by peaceful
union or peaceful , would the) feel themselves strong
Ugh to tolerate an enemy so formidable as the Church of
Rome.
234
CHAPTER VI.
GUNPOWDER PLOT.
The renewal of the persecution of the Catholics may appeal
to the historian to be the inevitable result of the claim of the
. ,. . Pope to universal authority, under the conditions of
Indignation . . ,
of the the times. It was not likely to appear in that light
to the Catholics themselves. They would see no
more than the intolerable wrongs under which they suffered ;
and it would be strange if there were not some amongst them
who would be driven to meet wrong with violence, and to
count even the perpetration of a great crime as a meritorious
deed.
Robert Catesby, who was possibly a convert from Protes-
tantism, was a man capable of becoming the leader in any
action requiring clearness of head and strength of
will. He was a born leader of men, and had the rare
gift of a mind which drew after it all wills in voluntary submission.
At the end of Elizabeth's reign he had despatched to Spain
Thomas Winter, in company with the Jesuit Green-
.1 to way, to urge Philip to send an invading force to
England. He was to assure the Spaniards that they
would not want allies amongst the warlike companions of Essex,
who had now lost hope of employment after the Earl's death.
Philip and Lerma adopted the proposal, and promised Winter
to send a force to Milford Haven in the spring of 1605. Then
came the death of the Queen. Catesby sent another of his
friends, named Christopher Wright, to Spain, to know
be expected if there was still any hope of Spanish intervention.
Wright was at once able to report that there was
none. The Spaniards were all bent on peace with James.1
1 T. Winter's declaration, Nov. 26, 1605, Hatfield MSS, 112, fol. 91.
1603 THE ORIGINATION OF THE PLOT. 235
By the time that this news reached Catesby, James had
arrived in England, and under pressure of the Privy Council
had given orders for the first temporary collection of
Catesby ' the Recusancy fines. As Catesby brooded over the
fde^of thehe wrongs of his Church — wrongs which were made the
pIot- more palpable to him by the fact that so many of his
kinsmen and friends were suffering by those evil laws — the idea
arose within him, though we cannot tell how far it was as yet de-
fined in his mind, of righting the grievous wrong by destroying
both the King and Parliament by means of gunpowder, and of
establishing a Catholic Government in their place. Perhaps the
design had not completely taken shape when, one day, a Catholic
Percy friend, Thomas Percy, rushed into his room. Percy was
a relative of the Earl of Northumberland, and, at this
r the
King. time, was acting as his steward. Through him James,
whilst yet in S< otland, had conveyed assurances of relief to the
I ■ glish Catholics. He now believed himself to have been a
dupe whose easy credulity had held back his co-religionists from
active measures. I le angrily told Catesby that he had resolved
to kill the King. " No, Tom," was the reply, " thou shalt not
adventure to small purpose ; but, if thou wilt be a traitor, thou
shalt be to some great advantage." Catesby added that ' he
was thinking of a most sure way,' and would soon let him know
what it wa
A few weeks later matters looked brighter for theCatholii s.
In July their fines were suspended, and during the remainder
1 G '■■ let' declaration, March 8, 1606, Hatfield MSS., no, foL 30.
This valuable paper throws back the original conception of the plot nine
urliei than baa hitherto been supposed. It is true that
. in a sui equenl 1 namination of March 10 [Hatfield
A/s. . 1 1 ■, • 61. ;5) : " I never was told, nor can imagine, when or where
1 the in. lit. i in 1, foi .ill my knowledge 1 ame by a sudden and
short relation by Mi 'II," i.e. Greenway; but the reference to
Percy, ai the time of his vi>it to Catesby, as one ' who, having been
into Scotland t<> bis M by the Catholics to sue foi toleration, and
affirming here that the t. inj^ had given his princely word to th and
seeing the same here doI performed', wa very much discontented,' can
only apply to the time of the first imposition <>f the lines by James in May,
1603.
236 GUNPOWDER PLOT. ch. vi.
of the year a more tolerant system was established. So far
as we know, Catesby said no more about his plan,
The plot and may possibly have intended to let it sleep, unless
some changes for the worse took place in the policy
1604.^ 0f the King. That change came in February 1604.
Effect of the The proclamation for the banishment of the priests
proclamation ... ... . ,
against the was not indeed carried into execution at the time,
but it must have seemed, to a mind so sensitive as
that of Catesby to the warnings of impending danger, to be
ominous of evil days in store.
A few days after the issue of the proclamation,1 Thomas
Winter, who was on a visit to his brother Robert, at Hudding-
winter ton, in the neighbourhood of Worcester, received a
toLondon letter from his cousin, Catesby, entreating him to
by Catesby. meet him in London on business of importance.
After some hesitation, he consented. He found Catesby at
H fin , Lambeth, in company with John Wright, who had
Wright for many years been one of his most intimate asso-
with him. . J ' .
ciates. On Winters arrival, Catesby begged him to
join in striking one more blow for the Catholic cause. He
told him that he had formed a design which could scarcely fail
of success. He proposed to blow up the Parliament
propo^s to House with gunpowder. God would surely favour
blow up the . . , . . ,
1 liament them in taking vengeance upon that accursed den
from whence had issued all the evils under which the
country and the Church were suffering. Winter acknowledged
that such a course would strike at the root of the evil, but re-
minded him that in case of failure 'the scandal would be so
great which the Catholic religion might hereby sustain, that not
only our enemies, but our friends also, would with good reason
condemn us.' It does not seem to have occurred to him that
the scandal would be at least as great if they succeeded.
Catesby, with that strange power of fascination which he exer-
cised over all with whom he came in contact, soon put an end
1 It was in the beginning of Lent. Conf. of T. Winter, Nov. 23, Gun-
powder Plot Book. This collection, kept apart amongst the State Papers,
will hereafter be designated as G. /'. /A In 1604 Ash Wednesday fell on
the 22nd of February, the day of the issue of the proclamation.
1604 THE OATH OF SECRECY 237
to his hesitation. Winter did not leave him until he had given
him a promise to risk his life in this or in any other design
upon which his cousin might determine.
It was probably in deference to Winter's scruples that
Catesby consented to his going over to Flanders, in order to
obtain an interview with the Constable of Castile,
Winter sent
into who then was on his way to England to take part in
Flanders. , r TT
the negotiations for peace. He was to attempt to
secure his intervention with the King on behalf of the English
I tholics. If he was unsuccessful — and it is plain that Catesby
had no great hopes from that quarter — Winter was to engage
the services of an Englishman who was then in Flanders, and
whose known character for courage and skill were such as to
make him a desirable acquisition to the plotters. This English-
man was Guido l'awkes.
Winter left England early in April.1 lie obtained nothing
but vague promises from the Constable ; and from all that he
„ heard, he fame to the conclusion that but little re-
liance could be placed upon the Spanish Government.
Towards tin end Of the month he returned, bringing l'awkes
with him, who had agr< 1 d to < ome, on the general information
fcr that some design had bei n formed of which he was
', . hereafter to learn the particulars. Soon after Winter's
1 return, Percy, who not to have been acquainted
.re with the particulars ol Catesby's scheme, appeared
the four conspirators. His fust words as he
entered the room in which they were sitting were,
"Shall we alwa) . gi ntli men, talk, .-mil never do any-
thii 1 00k him a id< and proposi d that they
should nil join in taking .in oath of set ret y before he disi losi d
it. particulars, lor this purpose, th ■■ men met shortly
afterwards in a hou ie behind St. ( Jlemi nl i, where they
,'hof SW(" P :inv '■'•1|" 1' mighl be confided
*="' to them. They then went into another room in the
same house, where they found Gerard, ;i J< mil prii 1 ;2 from
1 About Easter, which fell on the 8th ■ .f April Exam, 'if l'awkes,
Nov. S, 1605, G. /'. B.
■ Fawkcs's Exam. Nov. 9, 1G05, (V. /'. /.'.
23S GUNPOWDER PLOT. ch. vi
whose hands, having first heard mass, they received the Sacra-
ment as an additional confirmation of their oath. He was,
however, as there can be little doubt, left in ignorance l of the
plot. As soon as they were again alone, Percy and Fawkes
were made acquainted with the proposed scheme. It was
M 2 agreed that a building abutting upon the Parliament
A house House should be hired by Percy. Fawkes who, from
his long absence from England was not in danger of
being recognised, assumed the character of Percy's servant, and
took the name of John Johnson. The agreement for the lease
of the house was signed on May 24.
Shortly after the prorogation, the five plotters separated and
went into the country, having first agreed to meet in London at
Michaelmas. It was then understood that Parliament would
assemble in February 1605, and the conspirators calculated that
Deterioration this would give them ample time for their preparations.
spectsofthe During these months of waiting the position of the
Catholics. Catholics was rapidly deteriorating. In July the
King had given his consent to the new Recusancy Act. In
August it was put in force by some of the judges. In the be-
ginning of September the commission was issued for the banish-
ment of the priests. When, therefore, the conspirators returned
to London in the autumn, their zeal was not likely to be blunted,
and the imposition of the fines on the wealthy Catholics in
November must have seemed to them to fill up the measure of
James's guilt. In order to have a second place in which to
collect the necessary materials, they hired the house at Lambeth
in which Catesby usually lodged. They gave it into the charge
of Robert Keyes,2 a gentleman who had been living at the house
1 Those who distrust the evidence of Fawkes, of Winter, and of Gerard
himself in his autobiography, may give weight to Gerard's statement, that
he never knew of the plot till it was publicly known, as this statement was
made to the Rector of the English College at Rome in consequence of an
order from the General of the Society upon his obedience. — Fitzherbert to
Smith, March 15, 1631 ; Morris, Condition of Catholics, ccxlv.
2 Keyes's examination, Nov. 30, G. P. B. He there says that he was
informed a little before Midsummer.
1604 THE MINE COMMENCED. 239
of Lord Mordaunt, at Turvey in Bedfordshire, where his wife
had the charge of the education of the children. He, too, was
informed of the plot, and sworn to secrecy. When the time
for commencing operations arrived, Fawkes was sent to London
to examine the ground. He found that the house which Percy
had taken had been selected by the Commissioners for the
Union as the place in which their meetings should be held.
This unexpected obstacle delayed the progress of the scheme
till December 11. As soon as the conspirators obtained access
Dec. 11. to the house they commenced their labours, and by
irfth"ers Christmas Eve they succeeded in removing the ob-
stacles whirh separated them from the lower part of
the wall of the Parliament House.
As was natural, they often talked over their plans during
the intervals of work. They sincerely hoped that Prince Henry,
r.,.: the King's eldest son, might be with his father at the
Opening of the session, in whi< h case he would be in-
volved in a common destruction with him. Percy, who was now
a gentleman pensioner, and, as such, had access to the Court,
promised to secure the person of Prince Charles, who had re-
ly been created Duke of York. The Princess Elizabeth —
with the exception of an infant princess, the only other child of
the King— was being brought up in the family of Lord Haring-
ton, at Combe Abbey, in the neighbourhood of Coventry, and
she was consequently within reach of the residence of Catesby's
mother, at Ashby Si 1 ;ers, in Northamptonshire. This would
make it comparatively easy to obtain possession of the child.
With this a< ■-, and with a little money and a few horses,
these sanguine dreamers fan< ied that they would have the
: 1 igland at their feet
Whilst they were still working at the wall, news was brought
to them that Parliament was pro d till October. Upon
this they determined to give themselves a little rest.
terand During this interval ('atcshy went to Oxford, and
Inhn Grant «. fir-
med of sent for \\ inters elder brother, Robert, and for John
Grant, who had married a sister of the Winters,'
1 Examination of K. Winter, Nov. 30, 1605, G. /'. B, Examination
:40
GUNPOWDER PLOT.
CH. VI.
Robert Winter's house at Huddington, and Grant's house at
Norbrook, in Warwickshire, were admirably suited for the
carrying out of their future operations. After swearing them to
secrecy, Catesby told them what he was doing. Winter made
several objections, but Catesby's irresistible powers of persuasion
were again brought into exercise, and Winter left him saying
that it was a dangerous matter, but for his oath's sake, and for
the love that he bore to his cousin, he would not reveal it.
Bates joins Bates Catesby's servant, had been already admitted
the plotters. t0 ^e secret. His master, seeing that he was evi-
dently suspicious of what he heard and saw, thought it prudent
to confide the whole matter to him ; ! but he was never allowed
to take any prominent part in the conspiracy.
In the beginning of February, by which time the whole
system of recusancy fines was once more in full swing, the plotters
Feb. 1605. again commenced operations. Finding the work as
wrthtpl":r hard as ever» tney sent for Wright's brother Chris-
admitted, topher, to share it with them. His devotion to the
cause was well known, and they were certain to find in him a
of J. Grant, Jan. 17, 1606, G.P.B. R. Winter to the Lords Commis-
sioners, Jan. 21, 1606, G.P.B.
1 In his Examination (Dec. 4, 1605, G. P. B.) he said that he was
told about a fortnight less than a twelvemonth ago.
l6os A CELLAR HIRED. 241
faithful confederate. They sent for the gunpowder which was
stored at Lambeth, and were thereby enabled to release Keyes
from his duty of watching it, and to employ him in digging at
the wall. In spite of all difficulties, they worked on for another
fortnight. It was not an easy task, getting through nine feet of
wall. Besides their other difficulties, the water flowed in and
hindered them in their work. About the middle of the month
they again desisted from their labour.
Two or three weeks later they prepared for another effort.
One day as they were working, a rustling sound was heard.
Terrified lest their proceedings had been discovered,
The con- they sent Fawkes to find out the cause of the noise.
He returned with the intelligence that it proceeded
wiifsuu" fr°m a ^rs- ^r'yht.> who was selling off her stock
of coals in an adjoining cellar. This cellar, as they
found, ran under the Parliament House, so that it would be
exactly suited for their object. Mrs. Bright agreed to sell the
lease to them. This lease she held from a man named Whyn-
niard, who was also the landlord of Percy's house. Percy told
him that he required additional accommodation for his coals,
as he intended to bring his wife to London.
Their work being thus lightened, they proceeded to open a
door between the house and the cellar,1 through which Fawkes
carried the twenty barrels of powder which had been broughl
from Lambeth. He placed upon the barrels several bars of
iron, in order to in< rease the eff© I Ol the explosion. The whole-
was Covered Over with a thousand billets of wood and live
hundred faggOtS. As soon as this was done, they all dis-
til) < >< loher, when they expei ted that Parliament would
meet.
During the course of the summer, the growing discontent of
the Catholit S may I" im< I d by the renewal of the informations
June. which from time to time rea« hed the Governmi nt of
the suppressed dissatisfaction which here and there
[ the ' '
Catholia. faun- to the surface. Men went about with wild talk
of insurrections and revolutions, and predi< ted to their Protes-
I ruination of Fawkes, Nov. 5 and 6, 1605, C. /'. /'.
VOL I. R
242
G UNPO I VDER PL 0 T. ch. vi.
tant neighbours the near approach of the day when blood would
again flow for the cause of Holy Church.1 Amongst the Welsh
mountains Catholic priests preached to large congregations.2
In Herefordshire, the Sheriff came into actual collision with
a body of Catholics, who were especially numerous in that
county.3 In August and September, in spite of the King's
charge, three laymen were executed for attempting to convert
their neighbours.4
Meanwhile the conspirators had not been idle. When they
left London in the spring, Fawkes was sent over to Flanders,
Proceedings where he imparted the plot to the Jesuit Owen, who
of Fawkes, < seemed well pleased with the business.'5 He ad-
vised him not to acquaint Sir William Stanley with the con-
spiracy, but promised that as soon as it had taken effect, he
would inform him of all the particulars, and would engage his
assistance in the insurrection which was expected to break out
in England. Fawkes returned to London about the end of
August.
At this time, Lord Arundel of Wardour, a Catholic noble-
man, who had seen much service on the Continent, was levying
and a body of men in England for the service of the
Catesby. Archduke. In forwarding this object, Catesby was
particularly busy. He contrived that several of the officers
should be appointed from amongst his friends,6 and entered
into an understanding with them that they should be ready to
return to England whenever the Catholic cause required their
assistance. In September, he sent a certain Sir Ed-
Septemb^r. mund Baynham on a mjssion to the Pope. It is
doubtful how far the particulars of the plot were revealed to
him. He was to be on the spot, in order that, as soon as the
1 Depositions as to seditious speeches uttered by John Parker, Aug 31,
1605, S, P. Dom. xv. 43.
2 Barberini to Valenti, Sept. ^' Roman Transcripts, R. 0.
* Bishop of Hereford to Salisbury, June 22, 1605, S. P. Dom. xiv. 52.
* Challoner's Missionary Priests.
* T. Winter's Confession, Nov. 23, G. P. R.
6 Jardine, 61, from Greenway's MS. Compare Birch's Historical
View, p. 251.
loos GARNET^ GERARD, AND GREENWAY. 243
news arrived at Rome of the destruction of the tyrants, he
might win the Pope over to second the further efforts of the
The three conspirators. Of the three priests who were after-
pncsts. wards inculpated, Gerard may perhaps have been
aware that some scheme of unusual importance was on hand,
though there is strong reason to believe that he was not made
acquainted with the particulars.1 Greenway both knew of the
plot and favoured its execution ; whilst Garnet, the Superior of
the Jesuits in England, had been acquainted with it at least
as early as in July by Greenway in confession. He always de-
nied that he looked upon the project otherwise than with the
utmost abhorrence ; but circumstantial evidence leaves but
little doubt that his feelings were not quite so strongly expressed
a< lie afterwards represented them, and perhaps imagined them
to have been.2
In September, Winter and Fawkes were busy bringing in
fresh barrels of powder, to replace any which might have been
Parliament spoiled by the damp.3 Towards the end of the
i^'c"0 month, they heard that Parliament was again pro
,,;,-r- rogued to November 5, upon which they both re
turned to the country for a icw weeks.
Whilst they were in London, circumstances occurred which
eventually ruined the whole undertaking. As long as the only
question had been the Bele< lion of men fit to take part in the
plot, Catesby's discretion hail been suffit i. nt to guide him to
W;iI . the right persons ; bul foi the 1 ice< ution of their further
rns money was requisite as well as men, and
money was now running short with the conspirators. To en
gage a wealthy man in the plot was as dangerous as it would
have been to ei poor man. From the existing
system of fines the poor suffered nothing, becausi tin', had
nothing to lose; the rich suffered little because tins could
afford to pay. Nevertheless il was a risk which must be run.
Without horses and arms and ready money no insurrection
- p- 238.
2 The question of Garnet's complicity will be discussed when bit trial
comes under review.
• Examination of I'awke . '■ ;, >,'. /'. /i.
i 2
244 GUNPOWDER PLOT. ch. vi.
had a chance of success, and for these requisites the pockets of
the conspirators were unable to supply the necessary funds.
In the course of September, Percy met Catesby at Bath, where
the two friends discussed the difficult question together.1 It
was at last decided that Catesby should be intrusted with the
selection of persons to whom he might confide the secret. His
choice fell upon three men, two of them, Sir Everard Digby and
Ambrose Rokewood, were very young ; it was perhaps hoped
that their youth would render them sufficiently enthusiastic to
set aside prudential considerations. The third, Francis Tresham,
was indeed older, but his wealth offered a powerful inducement
to men with whom money was an object ; and his participation
in previous intrigues gave some guarantee that he would not
be unwilling to engage in the present design.2
Ambrose Rokewood, of Coldham Hall, in Suffolk, had long
been an intimate friend and an ardent admirer of Catesby. At
Ambrose first ne expressed some reluctance to take part in the
Rokewood. piot) because he feared that it would be impossible
to save those Catholic Peers who would be present at the
opening of the session. Catesby told him that a trick would be
put upon them, so that he need have no fears on that score.3
Rokewood then said that ' it was a matter of conscience to take
away so much blood.' Catesby assured him that he had been
resolved by good authority that the deed was lawful, even if
some innocent men should lose their lives together with the
guilty. Upon this Rokewood gave up his scruples. In order
to be at hand when he was wanted in November, he took a
house at Clopton, in Warwickshire.4
Early in October,5 Catesby was residing with Digby in the
1 T. Winter's Confession, Nov. 23, 1605, G. P. B.
i According to Jardine, p. 62-66, Digby was twenty-four, and Roke-
. I twenty-seven. Wood makes Tresham about thirty-eight. Ath. Ox.
Bliss, i. 755-
3 Examination of Rokewood, Dec. 2, 1605, G. P. B.
* Examination of R. Wdson, Nov. 7, 1606. He says the lease was
asked for about ten days before Michaelmas.
4 About Michaelmas (Examination of Sir E. Digby, Nov. 19, S. P.
Dom. xvi. 94). About a week after Michaelmas (Examination of Sir E.
Dighy, Dec. 2, G. P. B.).
1605 PREPARATIONS FOR A RISING. 245
neighbourhood of Wellingborough. After raising some objec-
sir Ev«ard tions> Digby too yielded to the fascination, and threw
Digby. himself headlong into the plot.1 A suitable house
was procured for his temporary residence at Coughton, in
Warwickshire, a place lying on the borders of Worcestershire.
What was still more to the purpose, he offered 1,500/. for the
good of the cause.
The last person to whom the secret was revealed was
Tresham, who had, upon the death of his father in September,
Francis inherited the estate of Rushton, not far from Ketter-
ing. He was a cousin of Catesby and the Winters,
and had taken part with them in Essex's rebellion, as well
in the negotiations with Spain shortly before the Queen's
death.
There were now thirteen persons who were intrusted with
all the details of the scheme. But it was also necessary to take
some measures in order that a large number of mal-
* contents might be ready to join the insurrection on the
first news from London. Accordingly, it was
posed that Digby should hold a great hunting match at Dun-
church on iIp- day of the meeting of Parliament, to which a
large company of the Catholic gentry of the Midland ((.unties
were to he invited. If Prince Charles escaped the fate p re-
pared for his family, Percy was to snatch up the child, and to
rush with him in Ins arms to Worcestershire. As soon as the
news arrived that the explosion had succeeded, the gentlemen
who had come to the hunt were to be urged to seize the Princess
th, who was at Combe Abbey, within an easy ride of
iili 1. Either she or Prince Charles was to be proclaimed
the nation was t<> he won over by the an-
nouncement of popular n rid the Protestant Church
would be at the feet of the conspirators.
In tlie midst of all th. nine anticipations one difficulty
presented itself, how were the Catholi< Lords to l»- prevented
from attending the opening of Parliament? This difficulty
had long been felt by Catesby and his companions, hut it pre-
1 See bis letters in the Appendix to the Bishop of Lincoln's Gunpowder
Hot, iGj'j.
246 GUNPOWDER PLOT. ch. vi.
sented itself with increased force as the moment for action
approached. There were those among the conspirators who
The Catho- were connected by special ties with some of the Peers :
mu!'t°beS Percy was in the service of his kinsman, the Earl of
warned. Northumberland ; Lord Mordaunt had intrusted his
children to the charge of Keyes's wife ; Lord Stourton and Lord
Monteagle had both married sisters of Tresham. It would be
impossible for any Catholic to regard with complacency any act
which would involve in ruin Lord Montague, who had dared to
stand forth as the champion of his religion in the House of
Lords, or the young Earl of Arundel, the son of that Earl who
was honoured above all the Catholic martyrs of the reign of
Elizabeth, and who had by James's favour been lately restored
to his father's honours. Many were the appeals which
had been made to Catesby, who was the guiding spirit
of the plot. Sometimes he answered that the nobility were but
' atheists, fools, and cowards ' ; at other moments he assured his
friends that means should be taken to warn them. He had a
scheme for sending some one to inflict a slight wound on Lord
Arundel, so as to incapacitate him from leaving his house. It is
probable that many of the Catholic Peers received hints to absent
themselves from the opening of the session. But such warn-
ings could not safely be given to all. Catesby was warmly
attached to the Earl of Rutland, ' but it seemed then he was
contented to let him go.' Even Catholic peeresses who came
merely to enjoy the spectacle must be sacrificed, though not with-
out compunction. Mr. Catesby, accordingto Garnet's statement,
' could not find in his heart to go to see the Lady Derby or the
Lady Strange at their houses, though he loved them above all
others ; because it pitied him to think that they must all die.' '
Among the plotters was one who had never entered heart
and soul into the matter. Tresham had, by his father's death,
Tresham lately succeeded to a large family property, and the
wavers temper of a man who has just entered into the en-
joyment of considerable wealth is by no means likely to fit him
for a conspirator. Catesby's sagacity had here deserted him,
1 Garnet's Examination, March 10, 1606, Hatfield MSS, no, fol. 35.
i6o5 TRESHAM TURNS IX FORMER. 247
or had perhaps been overpowered by his eagerness to share in
Tresham's ready money. If we are to believe Tresham him-
self,1 heat once remonstrated with his cousin, and reminded
him that even if they succeeded they would be exposed to the
fury of the enraged nation. He pointed out to him that when
the organization of the Government was destroyed, the country
would fall into the hands of the Protestant clergy, who would
form the only organized body remaining in existence. He ap-
pears to have given way at last, and to have promised to give
2,000/. to the cause.
Tresham pleaded strongly for his brother-in-law, Lord Mon-
teagle, and when he found that the other conspirators were
unwilling tu risk their lives by giving him warning, he
determines probably formed the determination to take the matter
Mont- into his own hands. He told them that it would be
net essary for him to go down into Northamptonshire,
in order to collect the money which they required, ami he made
an appointment with Winter to meet him as he passed through
Barnet on his return, on October 28 or 29.
On the 25th, and perhaps on the 26th, he was still in
London. On one of those days, Winter came to him at his
lodgings in Clerkenwell, and obtained 100/. from him.'- Shortly
afterwards he was on his way to Rushton.
On the 26th, Lord Monteagle ordered a supper to be pre-
pared at his house at Hoxton, although he had not been there
for more than twelve months. :) He was a man who had been
1 Declaration of Tresham, Nov. 13, 16051 S, P> Dotn. xvi. 63.
2 Thi« fact, which is di tinctly itated by Winter (Exam. Nov. 25,
1605, G, /'. /''■), leemi to b 1 overlooks! by Mr. |.u. line. It
the eviden I Tn ham, as it shows that he must have
l.ecn in London within twenty-four houn of the delivery of the letter, il
he was nut there on the very day. [< i> suspicious that while Tresham
rather a minute account of his proa md mentioned a latei
occasion on which Winter came to him lor money, he m I this
vi^it in his examination. , a, if h>- had been unwilling to have it ki
that he was in London at the time.
1 Green way's MS. inTierney'i Dodd. iv. 50. The King's 11 tory of
the Gunpowder Plot, Stale Trials, ii. 195. Account of the plot drawn up
by Munck, and corrected by Salisbury, G. /'. B., Nov. 7, 1605.
24S GUNPOWDER PLOT. CH. VI.
closely connected with some of the principal conspirators. He
was himself a Catholic. He had been engaged in Essex's rebel-
lion, and he had shared in promoting Winter's journey
Oct. 26. ' . . _ , , r ° , J , }
to Spain.1 It has been suspected that even at that
time he furnished information to the Government. However
this may have been, on the accession of James he gave his
whole support to the new King. His advances were accepted,
and he was admitted to high favour at Court.2
As he was sitting down to supper, one of his footmen came
in, bringing with him a letter which he had been requested to
a letter give to his master by a man whose features he had
Lo°rdgMont- been unable to distinguish in the dark winter night,
eagle. Lord Monteagle took the letter, and as soon as he
had glanced over it, handed it to Ward, one of the gentlemen
in his service, requesting him to read it. The letter was anony-
mous, and ran as follows : —
" My lord, out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I
have a care of your preservation. Therefore I would advise
you, as you tender your life, to devise some excuse to shift of
your attendance at this Parliament ; for God and man hath
concurred to punish the wickedness of this time. And think
not slightly of this advertisement, but retire yourself into your
country, where you may expect the event in safety, for though
there be no appearance of any stir, yet I say they shall receive
a terrible blow this Parliament, and yet they shall not see who
hurts them. This counsel is not to be contemned, because it
may do you good, and can do you no harm, for the danger is
1 Examination of Tresham, Nov. 29, 1605, G. P. B. Note by T.
Winter, Nov. 25, 1605, G. P. B. In the calendar, this note is said to
refer to a message 'relative to the plot,' and it is appended to an exami-
nation of Winter of the same date, relating to the Gunpowder Plot. This
must be a mistake, though both papers are endorsed in the same hand-
writing, '25 9br 1605. The Examination of Winter.' The two papers
themselves are not in the same handwriting, and the note evidently
relates to the Spanish plot of 1602. It must refer, not to anything in the
examination which is extant, but to a message in another which has been
lost, and which was mentioned by Tresham in his examination of Nov. 29.
■ jfardine, p. 80.
1605 THE PLOT BETRA YED. 249
past as soon as you have burnt the letter : and I hope God will
give you the grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protec-
tion I commend you." l
Monteagle at once set out for Whitehall, to communicate
the letter to the Government. On his arrival he found
H . . Salisbury, just ready to sit down to supper in com-
pany with Nottingham, Suffolk, Worcester, and
Northampton. Monteagle immediately drew him
aside into another room, and put the letter into his hands.
Although vague rumours had already reached Salisbury's ears
that some danger was in agitation amongst the Catholics, he
was at first inclined to think lightly of the matter;2 but being
well aware of their discontented state, he determined to
make further inquiries. Accordingly, he called Suffolk from
the next room and put the letter before him. As they re-pe-
rused the paper, it occurred to them that it might probably refer
to some attempt at mischief by means of gunpowder. Upon
this Suffolk, to whom, as Lord Chamberlain, all the buildings
in and around the Parliament House were well known, remem-
bered that the Cellar under the house would be a suitable place
for the execution of a design of this kind. As soon as Mont-
1 le had left them, they imparted the discovery to the other
three lords, who agreed that it would be proper to search the
cellar before the beginning of the session, but advised that the
sean h should be delayed as long as possible, in order that the
conspirators might not be scared before their plot was fully
ripe.
On the 31st, the King, who had been absent at Royston,
■ 3,. returned to London, but it was not till Sunday,
The King November -5, that the letter was shown to him. He
return* From *"
1 at once, if we are to believe the narrative drawn up
under Salisbury's inspection, came to the same conclusion
as that which had been come to by his ministers.3 By
1 The original is in the (7. /'. B. There is a copy with all the
peculiariii<> of spelling in Jardint% p. 82.
• Salisbury to Cornwallix, Nov. 9, 1005, Win;.: ii. 1 7 1 , compared
with Munck'a account, which agrees with it in all important particulars.
' James, a.-, is well known, took a pleasure in allowing it to lie believed
250 GUNPOWDER PLOT. ch. vi.
his direction, Suffolk, in execution of his office as Lord
Chamberlain, proceeded about three o'clock on
and °iVJerL the afternoon of the following day to go round the
i^de.1 10 Parliament House and the adjoining buildings. In
this search he was accompanied by Monteagle, who
had joined him at his own request. Suffolk, like
the rest of the Councillors, had no very strong belief in
the reality of the plot, and was under great apprehensions lest
he should become an object of general ridicule, if the gun-
powder for which he was looking proved to be without any
real existence. He therefore gave out that he was come to
look for some stuff of the King's which was in Whynniard's
keeping, and, finding that Whynniard had let his cellar to
a stranger, he contented himself with looking into it without
entering. Seeing the piles of coals and faggots, he asked
to whom they belonged. Fawkes, who had opened the
door to him, said that they belonged to Mr. Thomas Percy,
one of His Majesty's Gentlemen Pensioners. Upon hearing
Percy's name, Suffolk suspected that there was more truth in
the story than he had previously supposed. Monteagle, pro-
bably wishing to shield Tresham, and hoping to put the
Government on a wrong scent, suggested that Percy might have
sent the letter. Upon receiving Suffolk's report of what he had
seen, the King ordered that further search should be made,
still under the pretence of looking for the stuff which was
missing.
There was no time to be lost, as the session was to com-
mence on the following morning. About eleven at night, Sir
Discovery Thomas Knyvett went down to the cellar. At the
powdef by d°or nc was met ky Fawkes. He stopped him, and
Knyvett. carefully removing the coals and wood, he came to
the barrels of gunpowder. Fawkes saw at once that the game
was up. He made no attempt to excuse himself, but confessed
that he had made the discovery himself. It was not a very difficult one to
make, and the courtiers probably were discreet enough to hold their
tongues as to the fact that they had anticipated his conclusions. On the
other hand, it was certainly absurd to found the inference on the words
' the danger is past as soon as you have burnt the letter.'
1605 FAWKES CAPTURED. 251
that he had intended to blow up the King and the two Houses
on the following morning. Upon this he was bound hand and
foot, and taken to Salisbury's lodgings. Such of the Council as
could be reached at that late hour were summoned to the King's
bedchamber. James's first thought on hearing of the discovery
was to offer thanks to God for his deliverance. He then
directed that the Lord Mayor should be ordered to set a watch
for the prevention of any outbreak, and that the prisoner should
be carefully guarded, in order to hinder any attempt at self-
destruction.
A question has often been raised, whether the letter received
by Monteagle was, in reality, the first intimation given to him.
That the writer of the letter was Tresham there can
the writer of be no reasonable doubt. ' The character of Tresham,
the suspicions of his confederates, his own account
of his proceedings, all point to him as the betrayer of the secret.
If any doubt still remained, there is the additional evidence in
the confidence which was after his death expressed by his
friends, that if he had survived the disease of which he died,
he would have been safe from all fear of the consequences of
the crime with which he was charged.2 This confidence they
could only have derived from himself, and it could only have
been founded upon one ground.
'I 0 say the least of it, it is highly probable that Monteagle
expected the letter on the evening of the 26th. lie came out
unexpectedly to sup at lloxton, where he had not
nrrar i been tor upwards of a twelvemonth. If there had
between dim . ... . .
been no communication between him and the writer
of the ll tter, how could the bearer of it know that he
would find one of Monte.' I Otmen at so unlikely a spot ?
1 Tin.- whole argnmenl Is clearly given in Jardku% pp. 83-90. The
evidence seer rrant a stronger conclusion than that t" which Mi.
Jardine arrived. It i^ plain, b that no doubt remained in his own
mind.
5 Waad to Salisbury, Dec. 23, 1605, S. /'. Dom. xvii. 56. " His
friends were marvellous confident if he had escaped thi> and
have delivered out words in this place, that they feared not the course of
justice."
2:2 GUNPOWDER PLOT. ch. vi.
Why, too, should Monteagle, instead of reading the letter him-
self, have given it to Ward to read aloud ? Besides, if Tresham
had calculated upon the letter alone to deter his brother-in-law
from going down to the House, he would surely have written it
in plainer terms.1
The probability is that Tresham, finding that he could not
persuade Catesby to give a sufficiently distinct warning to
Monteagle, sought an interview with him himself. If the object
which they both had before them was to frustrate the whole
scheme in such a manner as to allow the conspirators themselves
to escape, it is impossible to imagine a more satisfactory con-
trivance. The information given was just enough to set the
Government upon preventive measures, but not enough to
enable them to seize the culprits. By giving the letter to
Ward, Monteagle conveyed the intelligence to a man who was
likely to warn the conspirators of the discovery of their schemes;
Ward being Winter's friend, would be certain to inform him of
what had happened.2 There could be little doubt that, upon
receipt of this intelligence, they would take to flight.
1 The greater part of this argument is abridged from Mr. Jardine's, to
which there is scarcely anything to be added, pp. 90-93.
* The excited feelings under which the letter was written, and the
desire to keep the middle ground between telling too little and telling too
much, may account for the obscurity of its style. Besides holding that
Monteagle was acquainted with Tresham's intention of writing the letter,
Mr. Jardine adopts Greenway's opinion that the Government, or at least
Salisbury, was acquainted with the manoeuvre. " Many considerations,"
he says, " tend to confirm the opinion expressed by Green way in his nar-
rative, that the particulars of the plot had been fully revealed to Lord
Salisbury by Monteagle, who was supposed by Greenway and the con-
spirators to have received a direct communication from Tresham, and
that the letter was a mere contrivance of the Government to conceal the
means by which their information had really been obtained " {Arch&ol.
xxix. 101).
In this theory I am unable to concur. The arguments by which it is
supported seem to me to be weak, and there are difficulties in the way of
its reception which appear to be insuperable.
Mr. Jardine's first argument is that Monteagle ' received 500/. per
annum for his life and 200/. in fee farm rents,' which he considers to be
extravagant over-payment, ' upon the supposition th.U the only service he
1605 THE CONSPIRATORS WARNED. 253
Part of this scheme was successful. Either by arrangement,
or in consequence of his own friendship for Winter, Ward only
Oct 27. waited till the next day to slip round to his lodgings
o«. 28. and to tell him all that he knew. On the following
forms morning Winter went out to White Webbs, a house
what "ad in Enfield Chase, where Catesby was to be found,
and entreated him to give up the enterprise, and to
leave the country. Catesby received the news with astonishing
rendered was delivering to the Council an obscure anonymous letter,
which he did not understand. ' {Ibid. p. 100.)
Surely, if the letter really was the means of discovering the plot, we
can understand that the Government would not have scanned very closely
the nature of the means by which they had been saved, besides, there
were additional reasons for valuing Monteagle's services highly. It soon
became probable that several other Catholics had received similar warnings,
more or less obscure, and of all these not one, except Monteagle, had
mentioned the matter to the Council.
Another argument used by Mr. Jardine, though he acknowledges that
it is not entitled to much weight, is, that Monteagle was one of the Com-
missioners for proroguing Parliament on October 3, though he had not
previously been employed on similar occasions. He thinks it probable
that James and his Council wished to secure the Commissioners from
being blown up on that occasion, by exposing a relative of some of the
conspirators to danger.
In the first place the conspirators wanted to blowup the King and
the Parliament, and were not likely to stoop to such small game as half a
I',,.. I ouncillon ; in the second place it is admitted that whatever
teagle knew, he learned from Tre ham. Bui Tresbam himself knew
nothing of the plot till eleven days after the prorogation.
The only really important argument i-. drawn from the conduct of the
eminent towards Tresham. <>n N 1 7 questions were put to
a v. in. li the name, ol 1 erl un persons were proposed to him, and
he was asked whether they shared in the plot. Among these Tresham's
name occurs. 'Yet, though 1 pr< I on that very day
against the others, Treshai is n •> mentioned in it' (Jardine, Nar-
y. 120). On the 9th, Fav expn ily mi ntioned him as an
accomplice ; yet, although he could have I" ted al any moment, he
was not brought before the ' !oun< il nination till the 12th.
This certainly would give some weigh) to Mr. Jardine's theory, that
the Government wanted to span- him, il
which make us seek for an explanation in 1 tion. In il..- first
place, Suffolk's behaviour on the 4th looks like that of a man who knew
254 GUNPOWDER PLOT. ch. vi.
coolness. He decided to wait till the 30th, when Fawkcs, who
was in the country, was expected to join them. They would
then send him to examine the cellar, and they would be guided
nothing more of the plot than what was on the face of the letter. But if it
is said that Salisbury alone was behind the scenes, it remains to be shown
what conceivable motives he can have had for the part which he is sup-
posed to have acted. Can it be supposed that Tresham brought him in-
formation which was so scanty that he was unable to seize the conspirators
before their flight from London ? This information, too, must have been
of such a character that, although Salisbury was able to issue a proclama-
tion for the apprehension of Percy on the 5th, he was unable to name any
of the other conspirators till the 7th. If Tresham had really come with
such a lame story as it is necessary to suppose — if he really saw Salisbury
before the 26th of October — he would immediately have been sent to the
Tower, and probably tortured till he consented to reveal the names of
his accomplices. It is plain that, with the exception of the names of Percy
and Fawkes, not a single name was known to the Government till the
7th. And yet, it is for this that Tresham was to be so highly favoured.
It is obvious that whoever invented the scheme of the letter did so with a
view to the escape of the conspirators. Salisbury was accused by his con-
temporaries of inventing the whole plot, with a view to gain favour by his
supposed cleverness in detecting it. Absurd as this charge was, it is
hardly more absurd than a theory which makes him to be the inventor of a
scheme which was admirably adapted to enable the conspirators to escape,
and by which he did not even succeed in discovering their names.
On the other hand, the suspicious circumstances are capable of an ex-
planation. The information of the names must have reached the Govern-
ment on the 7th, or late on the 6th. Perhaps Montcagle gave them up
when the whole plot had broken down. Perhaps they were learned from
some other source.
At first, the Government would be unwilling to arrest Tresham, as being
Monteagle's brother-in-law. He had not taken flight, and they knew that
they could have him when they wanted him. When the news came that so
many of the plotters had been killed, Tresham's evidence became important,
and he was accordingly sent for on the 1 2th. When he was dead, the
Government may have thought it better to allow him to be attainted with
the others. They must have suspected that Monteagle knew more of the
plot than he had avowed, and they may have thought that to except his
brother-in-law from the attainder would expose him to suspicion.
There is in Add. MSS. 19,402, fol. 143, a curious letter of Monteagle's,
written to assure the King of his desire to become a Protestant. It is
undated, but it would hardly have been without reference to the plot, if it
had been written subsequently to 1605.
i6o5 TRESHAM' S PROCEEDINGS. 255
by his report. Meanwhile, their suspicions naturally turned
upon Tresham as the traitor. They expected him to pass
through Barnet at two in the afternoon of the 29th, and it had
been arranged that Winter should meet him there. Tresham,
however, shrank from seeing any of his fellow-conspirators, and
caught eagerly at any plan which would save him from their
presence even for four-and-twenty hours. He accordingly sent
to Winter to inform him that he had postponed his journey, and
_ that he should not pass through Barnet till the 30th.
He said nothing of the hour at which he was to pass,
and pushing on got through at eight in the morning, long before
he was expected. He had not secured immunity for any long
0ct t time ; the next day the unhappy man was doomed
to see the detested face of Winter at his lodgings
in London. He had come to request his presence at Barnet
on the following day. Tresham did not dare to refuse. At
Nov t the appointed time he went to Barnet, where he
found Catesby and Winter waiting for him. They at
once charged him with having written the letter. They in-
tended, as it was said, to poniard him at once if he gave room
for the slightest suspicion.1 He showed, however, so bold a
face, and swore so positively that he knew nothing of the matter,
1 Declaration of Tresham, Nov. 13, S. P. Dom. xvi. 33. Confei ion
ofT. Winter, Nor. 23, G. /'. />'. Jardine, Narrative, p. 96, from Green
way's Ms.
A ' lalendai of the proceedings of these days may be useful : —
Sat. Oct. 26 Monteagle receives the letter.
Ward informs Winter.
Winter infonni I !atesby.
Tre ham returns. Fawkcs examines tli« cellar.
Winter rammoi Tre ham.
Meeting of Tresham with ( and Winter.
Winter mi • ' 'I !• bam al I. in' '.In's Inn.
Meeting behind St. Clement's.
Percy goes t'> Sion. Fawkes taken.
Flight <>f the conspirators.
Arrival at Haddington at 2 p.m.
Arrival at Holbeche at 10 p.m.
Capture at Holbeche.
Sun.
n
27
M'.n.
11
28
Tu.
11
29
Wed
1 1
jo
Th.
11
3'
1 rl :
. 1
Sat.
» »
2
Sun.
»>
3
Mon.
>>
4
Tu.
M
5
Wed.
M
6
Th.
H
7
Fri.
11
8
256 GUNPOWDER PLOT. ch. vr.
that they let him go. He again pressed them to let the matter
drop, at least for the present, and to take refuge in Flanders.
He found that his entreaties were all in vain. In
1 he con-
spirators fact, Fawkes had been sent up to London to examine
give up their the cellar, and upon his report that he had found
everything in the state in which he had left it, they
came to the conclusion that the Government had attached no
weight to Monteagle's representations, and that the conspirators
would incur no real danger by persisting in their original plan.
On the next day, Winter was again despatched to Tresham
for money, and was quieted with ioo/. Tresham again pressed
him to fly, and assured him that Salisbury was ac-
quainted with all their secrets, and that he had laid
everything before the King. Upon hearing this, Winter carried
the news to Catesby, who was at last shaken by this new intel-
ligence, and made up his mind to fly. Before taking this last
step, however, he would confer with Percy, who was expected
to arrive shortly from the North, where he had been engaged
in collecting the Earl of Northumberland's rents.
Accordingly, on the evening of November 3, a meeting was
held at the same house behind St. Clement's in which the
Nov. 3. original conspirators had taken their oath of secrecy
behind st eighteen months before. Those five men now met
Clements, again in the same place. Christopher Wright was
the only other person present. Upon hearing all that had
passed, Percy insisted upon their continuing steadfast. The
conspirators could not tear away from their breasts a hope which
had, by long cherishing, become a part of themselves, and they
allowed themselves to be persuaded by his earnest entreaties.
Fawkes, with a rare self-devotion, which, even in such a cause
as this, commands our admiration, went down to the cellar and
occupied his post as usual. Rokewood and Keyes were also in
London, but it does not appear whether they were told that the
plot had been discovered.
Nov On Monday afternoon Fawkes was still at his post.
Fawkes After Suffolk and Monteagle had left him, he may
remains at ° ' *
his post. possibly have thought that the danger was over.
About ten o'clock he received a visit from Keyes, who brought
1605 FLIGHT OF THE PLOTTERS. 257
a watch which Percy had bought for him, in order that he
might know how the hours were passing during that anxious
night.1 Within an hour after the time when Keyes left him,
he was a hopeless prisoner, and all his schemes were blown for
ever to the winds.
Early on Tuesday morning the chief conspirators were flying
at full gallop along the road to Lady Catesby's house at Ashby
St. Legers. Utterly disheartened by the conscious-
•Vof5'the ness of failure, they yet instinctively followed out the
plan which they had determined upon whilst success
seemed still within their grasp. Catesby and John Wright were
the first to get away. At five on the morning of the 5th, Chris-
topher Wright burst into Winter's lodgings with the tidings that
all was at an end. He then went out to reconnoitre, and re-
turned with the assurance that the news was only too true. He
again went out to find Percy, whose name was now known to
the Government as that of the tenant of the cellar. These two
galloped off together. Some hours later they were followed by
Keyes and Rokewood, the latter of whom did not leave London
before ten oclock.2
Thomas Winter was the last to fly He determined to see
for himself how matters stood. He coolly made his way to the
gates of the palace, which he found strictly guarded. He then
attempted to reai h the Parliament House, but was i toppi -1 by
the guard in the middle of King Street. As he returned, he
heard men in the crowd talking of the treason which had been
red Finding that all was known, he took horse and
followed hi, companions in their flight He seems to have
been the only on-- of them who did not hurry himself j for
thoueh he could not have left London at a much
later hour than i' d, he did not overtake the
rest of the party till Wednesday evening, when he found them
at Huddington.
About three miles beyond Highgate, Keyes was ovi
by Rokewood. Further on he contrived to slip away from
1 Declaration of Fawkes", Nov. 16, 1605, C. /'. B.
2 Rokewood's Examination, Dec. 2, 1605, G. /'. B, Examinatii '
R. Rooks and Elizabeth M 1605, S. P. Dotit. xvi. II, 13.
VOL. I. S
258 GUNPOWDER PLOT. CH. vi.
him, and to conceal himself till he was captured, a few days
later. The speed at which Rokewood was riding
Nov. 5. .
enabled him to come up with Percy and Christopher
Wright, about forty miles down the road. A little beyond
Brickhill they overtook John Wright and Catesby. In hot
haste all five pressed on, as men press on who are flying for
their lives. So excited were they, that Percy and John Wright
tore off their cloaks and threw them into the hedge, in order
that thev might ride the faster.
Whilst these men were thus riding their desperate race,
Digby was calmly carrying out his instructions, in complete
ignorance of the failure of his associates. He came
"llie hunting ° . ,
at Dun- to the hunting at Dunchurch, accompanied by his
uncle, Sir Robert Digby, of Coleshill. Grant brought
with him three of his own brothers, a neighbour named Morgan,
and a third brother of the Winters. Late in the evening Robert
Winter rode in, followed by Robert Acton, a neighbour, whom
he had persuaded to join him, and by Stephen and Humphrey
Littleton, of Holbeche, in Staffordshire. These two had been
induced to come in the hope that one of them might obtain a
commission in the force which Catesby had been ostensibly
levying for the Archduke. All the gentlemen who arrived were
accompanied by their servants. The number of persons present
was about eighty.1 Winter left the Littletons at Dunchurch,
and rode on to Ashby with some others of his companions. He
expected that he would thus be the first to hear the good news
lrom Catesby, who was sure to bring the tidings to his mother's
house.2
About six in the evening Catesby arrived at Ashby. He
called for Winter to come out to him, and there he poured out
1 Examination of J. Fowes. Enclosed in a letter of the Sheriff and
Justices of Warwickshire to those of Worcestershire, Nov. 6, G. P. B.
2 Examination of Francis Grant. Enclosed in a letter of the Sheriff of
Warwickshire to Salisbury, Nov. 7, G. P. B. Examination of R. Iliggins,
enclosed in a letter of the Justices of Warwickshire to Salisbury, Nov. 12,
G. P. B. Examination of R. Jackson, enclosed in a letter of the Sheriff
of Northamptonshire to Salisbury, Nov. 8, S. P. Don:, xvi. 28. R. Winter
to the Lords Commissioners, Jan. 21, 1606, G. P. B.
1605 THE ATTEMPTED INSURRECTION. 259
to him the whole wretched story of failure and despair. Winter
Catesby's saw at once tnat a^ hope was at an end, and
A^tf- St advised instant surrender. Catesby, who had waded
Legers. far deeper into treason than his adviser, refused to
hear of it, and decided upon riding off to Dunchurch, for the
purpose of consulting with his friends. Bates, who lived at a
little distance from the house, was sent to Rugby to act as
guide to some of Catesby's party, who had been left there.
On his arrival at Dunchurch, Catesby called Digby aside,
and told him ' that now was the time to stir for the Catholic
cause.' He had, indeed, failed to blow up the Parliament
House, but both the King and Salisbury were dead, so that if
they were only steadfast in asserting their claims, he ' doubted
not but they might procure themselves good conditions.' He
assured him that the Littletons would be able to assist them
with a thousand men, and that Robert Winter's father-in-law,
John Talbot of Grafton, would undoubtedly join them with a
large force as soon as he heard that they were in arms.1
These falsehoods imposed upon the weak mind of Digby
With most of the others they failed entirely. Sir Robert Digby
rode off indignantly, and tendered his services to the Govern
ment. Humphrey Littleton refused to follow them, and several
more, especially Of the servants, took every Opportunity win. li
ed itself of slipping away unobserved. The remainder de
termined to make the best of their way to Huddington, in hopes
of raising the Catholics of the neighbourhood. They would
then pass on into Wales, where they expected to be joined by
largi- numbers of insurgi n
A . they rode along they remembered that at Warwick there
was a stable, in whi< h they would be able to find fresh horses,
Sdniraof wh" '' ,; "' ' arr>' (,ff in exchange for the tired
ones on win' h ome of the company were mounted.
Warwii k. . , , ,
1 ierl u inter, who, as he had never |oim d in the
actual operations, had nol llffi< iently realised his position .
conspirator, n mon linsl this breai h of the law. "Some
of us," was Catesby's answer, " may not lookback." " but,''
' Examination of Sir E. Digby, Nov. 19, 1605, S. /'. Dom. xvi. 94.
: Examinatii I met, March 12, iC'jG, S, P. Dom. xix. 40.
s 2
26o GUNPOWDER PLOT. CH. vi.
said Winter, " others, I hope, may, and therefore, I pray you,
let this alone." " What ! hast thou any hope, Robin ? " was
the reply ; " I assure thee there is none that knoweth of this
action but shall perish." Rokewood, too, felt indisposed to
join in horse-stealing, especially as he was himself well-mounted,
and rode on before them towards Grant's house at Norbrook.
At three in the morning the rest of the party rejoined him there
upon their fresh horses, but they only remained long enough
to take away about fifty muskets and a fresh supply of powder
and ball. They then rode on, tired as they were, to Hudding-
ton, where they arrived, weary and desponding, at two o'clock
in the afternoon of the 6th ; l having despatched
Bates, as they left Norbrook, to Cough ton, with a
letter for Father Garnet, in which their condition was described,
and his advice was asked.
Bates found Garnet at Coughton, and gave him the letter.
While he was reading it, Father Greenway came in, and, upon
hearing the news, offered to accompany Bates to Huddington.
Upon their arrival, Catesby, catching sight of the priest's face,
exclaimed, that ' here at least was a gentleman who would live
and die with them.'2 After a conference with Catesby and
Unsuccessful Percy, Greenway rode away to Hindlip, a house about
to'eain' ^0UT mi^QS from Huddington, belonging to a Catholic
Abmgton gentleman of the name of Abington, who had often
offered a refuge to priests flying from persecution. It was in
vain that he tried to gain him to the cause.3 Abington would
willingly have sheltered him if he had been seeking a refuge for
himself, but he immediately refused to take any part in treason.
The main hope of the conspirators was now to obtain
and Talbot tne assistance of John Talbot, whose daughter was
of Grafton, married to Robert Winter. He was one of the
wealthiest of the Catholic laity,4 and was a man of considerable
1 Examination of Gertrude Winter, Nov. 7, G. P. B.
- Examination of Bates, Jan. 13, 1606, G. P. B. Declaration of II.
Morgan, Jan. 10, G. P. B.
3 Examination of Oldcorne, March 6, G. P. B.
4 He was one of those who paid the 20/. fine, as was Throckmorton,
the owner of Coughton.
i6o5 FAILURE AND FLIGHT. 261
influence, as the representative of the younger branch of the
family of the Earl of Shrewsbury.1 Soon after their arrival at
Huddington, Catesby and John Wright pressed Winter to
write to his father-in-law. Winter, who knew him well,
positively refused, telling them ' that they did not know him,
for the world would not draw him from his allegiance.'2 Even
if his loyalty had not been steadfast, so wealthy a man was the
last person likely to take part in a hopeless insurrection.
In the evening the fugitives were joined by Thomas Winter.
On the following morning the whole company, now reduced by
desertion to about thirty-six persons, were present
■ to at mass.3 After its conclusion, they all confessed
• to the priest, who was a Father Hammond. He
was aware of their late proceedings, but does not seem to have
considered that there was anything in them which needed
absolution. At least Bates naively stated that when he con-
fessed on this occasion it was only for his sins, and not for any
other particular cause.
After they had thus cleared their consciences, they rode off
to Stephen Littleton's house, at Holberhe, in Staffordshire,
The < taking with them ten of Winter's servants. As they
lUwtii l,assc<1 by Hewell Grange, the house of Lord
*«• Windsor,1 they broke into it by force, and took all
the armour which they could find, supplying those of the
ipany who needed it, and putting that lor which they had
no immediate use into a cart, whi( h followed them.
It was all to no purpose. Not a soul was willing to share
their fate. Whilst tiny were at I.onl Windsor's a number of
Countrymen 'am.- to them and asked them what they meant to
1 by, in return, asked them to go with him Tins was
no answer, and tin a iked what he intended to do. He
1 His son succeeded to the earldom on the extinction "f the eldei branch
in 161 7.
* K. Winter to the Lords Commi ■ > 11 1 , Jan. 21, 1606, G. /'■ B.
* Examination of T. Flower and Stephen Kirk, en by Sir E.
Leigh to the Council, Nov. 0, (,'. /'. A. I \amination of Bat< , Dec. 4,
<;. /•. B.
* Examination of W. Elli-, Nov. 21, G. P. B.
262 GUNPOWDER PLOT. ch. VI.
saw that nothing could be done with them, and contented
nimself with saying that he was for ' God and the country.'
1 And we,' said his questioner, 'are for God and the King, and
the country,' and turned his back upon him.
About ten o'clock at night they arrived at Holbeche, which
was situated just over the borders of Staffordshire, about two
They arrive miles from Stourbridge. Many of their followers
at Holbeche. had, in spite of all their precautions, dropped away
from their ranks. The Sheriff of Worcestershire was following
them, with all the forces of the county ; and the Sheriff of
Staffordshire might soon be expected to bar their further
progress. Flight had now become impossible, and hope of
gathering fresh strength there was none. Early on the follow-
ing morning they were deserted by Sir Everard
Digby. Desperate as their case was, they determined
to make one more effort to get help from Talbot. Accordingly,
Thomas Winter and Stephen Littleton were despatched to
Grafton.1 They found the old man at home, who at once
drove them out of his presence. On their return, they were
met by one of Winter's servants, who told them that a terrible
The accident accident had occurred, and that some of their
ai Holbeche. numDer had been killed.2 Upon this Littleton
lost heart and rode away, inviting Winter to accompany him.
Winter, like a brave man as he was, answered that he would
first find Catesby's body and bury it before he thought of
himself. On entering the house, he found that his friends
were more frightened than hurt. The gunpowder which they
had brought with them had been wetted in crossing the Stour,
and they were engaged in drying some of it when a hot coal
fell into it. Catesby and Rokewood were slightly injured by
the explosion. Grant suffered more severely, his face and
hands being much burnt. Their terror was extreme ; they fan-
cied they saw in the accident the finger of God's Providence,
bringing vengeance upon them by the same means as that by
1 Examination of J. Talbot, Dec. 4, G. P. B. Examination of T.
Winter, Dec. 5, G. P. B.
2 Confession of T. Winter, Nov. 23, G. P. B. Examination of B-tcs,
Dec. 4, G. P. B. Greenway's MS. in Tierney's Dodd. iv. 53.
i6o5 THE ATTACK ON HOLBECHE. 263
which they had planned to take away the lives of so many of
their fellow-creatures. John Wright, who was himself unhurt,
stepped up to Catesby and cried out, " Woe worth the time that
we have seen this day ! " and called for the rqst of the powder,
that they might blow themselves all up. Robert Winter left
the house and fled ; he was immediately followed by Bates.
As soon as Thomas Winter entered the house, he asked
what they meant to do. They all answered with one voice,
that they meant to die there. Winter assured them that he
would share their fete. The remainder of the time which was
left to them they spent in prayer before a picture of the Virgin,
acknowledging now, at last, that they had been guilty of a
great sin.
About eleven the Sheriff arrived. His men began firing
into the house. Winter, who went out into the court to meet
Nov. 8. them, was wounded by a shot in the shoulder. John
Arrival .>f Wright was the first who was shot dead, and im-
t i<:riff. " 1 • 1 , /-ni i • 1
,loflhe mediately afterwards, his brother fell by Ins side.
Rokewood dropped, wounded in four or five places.
Upon this, Catesby begged Winter to stand by him, that they
iit die together. "Sir," was the answer, " I have lost the
use of my right arm, and I fear that will cause me to be taken."
A . they stood near each other, Catesby and Percy
1 fell, the same bullet passing through the bodies of
both. Catesby was able to crawl on his knees to
the picture of th< Virgin, which he took in bis arms, and died
ing and embra< ing h. Percy lived for two or three days
longer. I he a 1 ailants ru h< d in, and found the two wounded
, men, Winter and Rokewood They carried them
arc taken. ()(f mere, with Grant and Morgan and the
servants who had remained faithful to their ma ters.1 The'
Othei picked up here and there in their
various hiding-places, most of them in the course of the next
few days.
It is impossible not to feel some satisfaction thai so many
of the original conspirators es< api d the s< affold. Atroi iou
the whole undertaking was, great as must have been the moral
1 T. Lawley to Salisbury, Nov. 14, Add. MSS. 5495.
264 GUNPOWDER PLOT. ch. vi.
obliquity of their minds before they could have conceived
such a project, there was at least nothing mean
the con- or selfish about them. They had boldly risked their
lives for what they honestly believed to be the cause of
God and of their country. Theirs was a crime which it would
never have entered into the heart of any man to commit who
was not raised above the low aims of the ordinary criminal.
Yet, for all that, it was a crime born of ignorance. Catesby
and his associates saw the hard treatment to which the
Catholics were subjected. They saw in James and his Pro-
testant Parliament the oppressors of their Church. They did
not see the causes which made this oppression possible, causes
which no destruction of human life could reach, and which
weie only too certain to be intensified by the wanton destruc-
tion which they had resolved to spread around.
If the criminality of their design was hidden from the eyes
of the plotters, it was not from any ambitious thoughts of the
consequences of success to themselves. When Watson and his
associates formed their plans, visions floated before their eyes
in which they saw themselves installed in the highest offices of
the State. In the expressions of these conspirators not a single
word can be traced from which it can be inferred that they
cherished any such thoughts. As far as we can judge, they would
have been ready, as soon as the wrongs of which they com-
plained had been redressed, to sink back again into obscurity.
One thing was wanting, that they should see their atrocrious
design in the light in which we see it. Even this was vouch-
safed to some of them. In their time of trouble wisdom came
to them. When they saw themselves alone in the world, when
even their Catholic brethren spurned them from their houses,
their thoughts turned to reconsider their actions, and to doubt
whether they had been really, as they had imagined, fighting
in the cause of God. In such a frame of mind, the accident
with the gunpowder at Holbeche turned the scale, and placed
before them their acts as they really were. With such thoughts
on their minds, they passed away from the world which they
had wronged to the presence of Him who had seen their guilt
and their repentance alike.
:63
CHAPTER VII.
THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
On the morning of November 5, the news of the great de-
liverance ran like wildfire along the streets of London. The
suspicions of the people were naturally directed
against the Spaniards who happened to be in the
City, and especially against the Spanish Ambassador. If
measures had not been promptly taken, it might have gone ill
with the object of the popular dislike.1 In the evening all the
bells were ringing, and the sky was reddened with the bonfires
which were blazing in every street.2
On the following morning Fawkes was carried to the Tower,
The King, hearing that he refused to implicate any of his ac-
Nov c ' "'"I'n'( cs> scnt a string of questions to which he was
1 required to answer, and ordered that, if he refused,
he should be put to the torture,'1 though recourse was
not to \>r had to the rack unless he continued obstinate. These
questions were put to him on the same afternoon, but nothing
was obtained from him beyond a fictitious account of his own
origin and life. lb- still insisted that his name was Johnson,
first the Government had only received sufficient infor-
1 Waad to Salisbury, Nov. 5, G. /'. /•'.
7 Chaml>cr]ain t<> CarletOD, N"\\ 7, -V. /'. Dom, wi. 23.
* Torture, though unknown to the common law, had, fur upwards of s
century, been frequently used to 1 strati evidence. The infliction oi il was
considered to l»c part of the Royal prerogative, which enabled the King
to override the common law. It could, therefore, be employed only by
express command of the King, or of the Council acting in his name. (See
Jardine On the Use oj Torture in the Criminal Lam oj l-.ir.Jand.)
266 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. ch. VII.
mation to enable them to issue a proclamation for the arrest of
Percy. On the 7th they obtained, from some un-
known source, intelligence which put them in posses-
sion of the names of the other conspirators. A proclamation
was set forth, in which the names of all of them were mentioned,
excepting Tresham, who was still in London, and on whom the
Government could lay their hands whenever they pleased. On
the same day Fawkes was again examined, probably after one
of those gentler tortures which James had recommended. He
gave some further particulars of the plot, and acknowledged that
his name was Fawkes.1
On the 8th, the day of the final catastrophe at Holbeche,
much additional information was obtained from him. The
next day he was undoubtedly subjected to torture of no
common severity. The signature which he affixed to
his examination is written in a trembling broken hand, as by a
man who had lost all command over his limbs. The motive for
the employment of torture was the hope that it might be possible
to trace the connection which was suspected to exist between
the conspirators and the priests. Fawkes admitted that the
design had been communicated to Owen, who, as he knew, was
safe in Flanders, beyond the power of the English Government.
He acknowledged that the conspirators had, after taking the
oath of secrecy, received the sacrament from the hands of
Gerard ; but he expressly added that Gerard knew nothing of
their intentions. With respect to Garnet, he only stated that
they had used his house in Enfield Chase as a rendezvous.2
Nov. to. On Sunday a solemn thanksgiving was offered
The Bishop in all the churches. The news of the occurrences
of Roches- tt 11 t_
ters sermon, at Holbeche, which had been received that very
Nov. 12. morning, was given to the public by the Bishop of
1 The King's words were, ' The gentler tortures are to be first used unto
him, et sic per gradus ad ima tenditur, and so God speed your good work.'
The King to the Lords Commissioners, Nov. 6, G. P. B. Sir E. Hoby
wrote to Sir T. Edmondes, ' Since Johnson's being in the Tower, he be-j
ginneth to speak English, and yet he was never upon the rack, but only
by the arms upright' (Court and Times of James I. i. 53). The letter is
dated Nov. 19, but was evidently written piecemeal. This part was ap-
parently written on the evening of the 7th, or the morning of the 8th.
2 Examination of Fawkes, Nov. 9, G. P. B.
1603 TRESHAM'S DEATH. 267
Rochester. On the 12th Thomas Winter arrived, and by de-
grees the particulars, which were still unknown, were wormed
out of him and those of his fellow-conspirators who survived.
Tresham's Among those who were thus examined was Tre^s-
bpr,isfnn; ham. He was not sent for till the 12th. It is
mem and
death. possible that he was spared out of regard for Mont-
eagle, until, by the death of so many witnesses, his testimony
was rendered indispensable. If Salisbury still had any wish
to treat him favourably, this wish was not shared by others at
the Court. There were many who were already eager for the
division of the spoil. Within a day or two of his committal,
Sir Thomas Lake had obtained from the King a promise of one
of his manors in the event of his conviction.1
The great object of the Government now was to obtain evi-
dence against the priests. Of their connection with the great
conspiracy it soon became evident that Tresham knew nothing.
But he might be able to tell something of the share which they
had taken in the mission to Spain in 1602. He was examined
on this point, and after flatly denying that he knew anything
of the matter at all, was finally brought to confess, not only his
own share in the transaction, but that both ( iarnet and Greenway
had been made aware of what was being done.-
I Hiring these days he was seized by the disease under which
radually sank. He had no reason to complain of his treat"
It iHmn^ his illness his wife was allowed to remain with
him, and his servant Vavasour was also permitted to have
I I linn at all tin,
On December 5, < 'oke, in searching Tresham's chamber
at the Temple, came upon a manuscript hearing the
title ot ' .\ T 'in Equivocation,'4 in which
the Jesuit doctrini • rning the lawfulness of giving false
evidence ui rtain < in um tarn es was advocated. Tresham,
1 The Kin^ to D01 et, Nov. is. .v. /•. Dom. xvi. 86.
Examination of Tresham, Nov. 27, C. /'. /■'.
1 Would this have b •■! ii he had been, as Mr. Jardine sup-
poses, the depositary of an important St "t?
4 This copy, made by Vavasour, is in the Bodleian Library, and has
been published by Mr. Jardine.
268 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE, ch. VII.
who had already given proof how apt a scholar he had become
in that evil school in which he had been brought up, was soon
to give another proof of how completely he had mastered the
Dec principles of this book. On the 9th he was questioned
about the book, and made a statement professing an
ignorance of all circumstances connected with it, which he
could hardly have expected to be believed. As the days passed
on, and he felt more and more that he was a dying man, he
was haunted by remorse for his acknowledgment that Garnet
had been acquainted with the mission to Spain. He deter-
mined to crown his life with a deliberate falsehood. One or
two days before his death he dictated to Vavasour a declaration
in which he not only affirmed that Garnet had taken no part
in the negotiations, but, as if in mere recklessness of lying, he
added that he had neither seen him nor heard from him for
Dec ^ sixteen years.1 He died on the 22nd, leaving it as
his last charge to his wife to forward this declaration
to Salisbury. She did so and the ridiculous untruth of the
statement thus volunteered must have weighed much against
any reasons for treating his memory with leniency. Hence-
forward his name appears on the same footing as that of the
other conspirators. His body, according to the barbarous prac-
tice of those times, was beheaded, and his head was exposed to
the public gaze at Northampton.*
On January 27 the surviving conspirators, Fawkes, the two
Winters, Keyes, Bates, Rokewood, Grant, and Digby, were
1606. brought up for trial in Westminster Hall, in the
TrbTofL l,rL'st-'nce of an immense concourse of spectators.3
plotters. Digby alone pleaded Guilty. The others pleaded
Not Guilty, not with any hope of obtaining an acquittal, but in
order to have an opportunity of contradicting some statements
of minor importance contained in the indictment. The main
facts were too plain to be denied, and Coke had no difficulty
in obtaining a verdict against the prisoners. Digby having
stated that promises had been broken with the Catholics,
1 Coke to Salisbury, March 24, 1606, G. P. B.
2 Phelippes to Owen, Dec. 1605, S. P. Dom. xvii. 62.
s Slate Trials, ii. 193.
1606 THE CONSPIRATORS EXECUTED. 269
Northampton rose and denied that the King had ever made
them any promise at all before he came to England — an asser-
tion which was certainly untrue. Salisbury drew a distinction
between promises of toleration, or permission to enjoy the free
exercise of their religion, and promises of exemption from fines,
a distinction which has often been lost sight of. When, how-
ever, he proceeded to say that, in answer to the deputation
which had waited upon the Council in July 1603, nothing
more had been promised than that the arrears then accruing
should be remitted, he said what he must have known to be
untrue. The promise had been that, as long as the Catholics
remained loyal, no fines should be levied ; and this promise
had been broken.
On the 31st, Digby, Robert Winter, Grant, and Bates were
executed in St. Paul's Churchyard. On the following day
Fawkes, Thomas Winter, Rokcwood, and Keyes
suffered death at Westminster. As far as we know,
Feb. 1. »
Execution these men, unlike those who perished at Holbeche,
died in the firm persuasion that they were suffering
as martyrs in the cause of God. As they passed
along the streets, each of them, according to custom, draggi d
upon his separate hurdle, even these iron men must have
longed for some sympathy as they looked up at the long line
of hostile faces. Nor was this altogether withheld from them :
as the miserable procession passed along the Strand, they came
to the house in whi< h Rokewood's wife was lodging. She had
not shunned the spectacle, bul had placed herself at an open
window. Her husband, catching si^ht of her, begged her to
: tor him. Without faltering, she answered: "I will I I
will ! and do you offer yourself with a good lw art to God and
your Creator. I yuld you to Him with ns full an assurance
that you will h tedoi Him as when He gave you to me." '
The whole story of the plot, as far as h n lates to the lay
conspirators, rests upon indisputable evidence. Bui
■ut the as soon as we approach the question of the complicity
pr" of the pries;,, we find ourselves upon more um ertain
ground. Of those who were impli( ated by the evident e of the
1 Grccnway's MS. quoted by Mr. Jardinc, Narrative, p. 154.
270 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. CH. vii.
plotters, Owen the Jesuit and Baldwin were beyond the reach of
the Government, under the protection of the Archduke. Of the
three who had been in England, Gerard and Greenway had
contrived to make their escape, and Garnet alone was brought
to trial. Catesby, who knew better than any man what Garnet's
connection with the plot really was, was dead. So that the
whole case against Garnet rested upon circumstantial evidence.
It was not till December 4 that any one of the priests '
was actually implicated in the plot by any of the conspirators.2
Bates, on that day, acknowledged that he had
revealed the whole plot to Greenway in confession.
On January 13 he gave a further clue by narrating the history
of his visit to Coughton after the discovery of the plot.3 Upon
this a proclamation was issued for the arrest of Gerard, Green-
way, and Garnet. The first two succeeded in escaping. Garnet
was less fortunate. He had remained at Coughton till Decem-
Movements Der 4, but had then moved to Hindlip, in consequence
of Gamet. Qf t^e invitation of a priest named Oldcorne, who
had himself received shelter in Abington's house, and acted as
his chaplain. The house was amply provided with means for
secreting fugitives. There was scarcely a room which did not
contain some secret mode of egress to a hiding-place con-
structed in the thickness of the walls. Even the chimneys led
to rooms, the doors of which were covered with a lining of
bricks, which, blackened as it was with smoke, was usually
sufficient to prevent detection.4
On January 20 Sir Henry Bromley, a magistrate of the
county, proceeded, in consequence of directions
The search from Salisbury, to search the house.5 Several of the
ip' hiding-places were discovered, but nothing was found
1 That Salisbury was not anxious to take any steps against the priests,
unless upon clear evidence, appears from the fact that, though Lady Mark-
ham on Jan. 3 offered to act as a spy from Gerard, he took no notice of
her offer till the 15th. — S. P. Dom. xviii. 4, 19.
2 Examination of Bates, Dec. 4, 1605, G. P. B.
3 Examination of Bates, Jan. 13, 1606, G. P. B. (seep. 260).
* There is a description and an engraving of the house in Nash's Wor-
cestershire, i. 584. Compare Jardine, p. 182.
4 Harl. MSS. 360, fol. 92. Bromley to Salisbury, Jan. 23, printed in
Jardine, p. 185.
1606 SEIZURE OF GARNET. 271
in them excepting what Bromley described as ' a number of
Popish trash.' He was not satisfied with these results, and
determined to keep watch, in hopes of making further dis-
coveries. On the fourth day of his watch, he heard that two
men had crept out from behind the wainscot in one of the
rooms. They proved to be Garnet's servant, Owen, and Cham-
bers, who acted in the same capacity to Oldcorne. They declared
that they could hold out no longer, as they had had no more
than a single apple to eat during the time of their concealment.
Two or three days after this, Bromley, who did not relax in
his watchfulness, was encouraged by hearing that Humphrey
Camct and ^u'eton naci bought his life by confessing his know-
oidcome ledge that Oldcorne was at that moment in hiding at
surrender. . . , . _ . . . °
Hindhp.1 On the 30th his patience was rewarded.2
To the astonishment of the man who was set to keep watch,
the two priests, who could bear the confinement no longer,
suddenly stepped out from their hiding place. The sentinel
immediately ran away, expecting to be shot The priests had
been in no danger of starvation. There was a communication
between their place of concealment and one of the rooms of
the house by means of a quill, through which they had re< eived
constant supplies of broth. They had suffered principally from
want of air. The closet in \vhi< h they were had not been pre-
pared for their reception, and it was half filled with books and
furniture. Garnet afterwards stated his belief that, if these had
.1 removed, he could have held out easily for three months,
it was," he said, " we were well wearied, for we continually
sat, save that sometimes we could halfstreti h ourselves, the place
l rig not high enough ; and we had our legs so straitened that
< ould not, sitting, find place for them, so that we both were
in i ontinual pain Oi our legs ; and both our legs, espec lallv mine,
were much swollen. . . . When we ( ame forth we appeared like
twogho ■ I the stronger, though my weakness last. .1 lonj er.M
The two priests were sent up to London. They were
' II. I. in: relation, Add. MSS. 6178, fol. 693.
- Bromley to Salisbury, Jan. 30, .S". /'. Dam. xviii. 52. (larnct to
Mrs. Vaux, printed in Jardine, App, i. He ipeaka of having been in the
hole seven days am niphts. If this is correct, lie must have been
removed to a safer place on the 23rd.
272 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. CH. VH.
allowed to travel by easy stages ; and by Salisbury's express
orders they were well treated during the whole journey. Owen
and Chambers, as well as Abington and two of his servants,
were sent with them.
On February 13, Garnet was examined by the Council.
As he was conducted to Whitehall, the streets were crowded
Feb with multitudes, who were eager to catch a sight of
Garnet the head of the Jesuits in England. He heard one
by the"* man say, ' that he was a provincial,' whilst another
shouted out, " There goes a young Pope." It was
found impossible to extract from him any confession of his
complicity in the plot. During the following days, he was re-
peatedly examined with equal want of success. At one time
he was threatened with torture. It was all alike. Nothing
could be gained from him, either by fear or by persuasion. It
was a mere threat, as the King had strictly forbidden the use
of torture in his case.
Torture was, however, used upon Owen, who exasperated
the Commissioners appointed to conduct the examinations by
declaring that he did not know either Oldcorne l or
Owen's
torture and his own master. An acknowledgment of his ac-
quaintance with Garnet was extracted from him 2 by
fastening his thumbs to a beam above his head. His fear lest
the torture should be repeated worked upon his mind to such
an extent, that on the following day he committed suicide.3
The Government having in vain tried all ordinary means
. . of shaking Garnet's constancy, determined to resort
Admission , ... ,
obtained to stratagem. He and Oldcorne were removed to
bystiata- two rooms adjoining one another, between which a
communication existed by means of a door. Two
persons were placed in a concealed position, from which they
1 This was his real name. Like the other priests, he had many aliases,
and at this time he was generally known as Hall.
- Examination of Owen, Feb. 26 and March 1, 1606, G. P. B.
8 Antilogia, p. 1 14. The Catholics accused the Government of tortur-
ing him to death. " There is, perhaps, no great difference," observes Mr.
Jardine, "between the guilt of homicide by actual torture, and that of
urging to suicide by the insupportable threat of its renewal " (p. 200).
1606 GARNETS NARRATIVE. 273
might be able to overhear all that passed.1 By these means
the Government was put in possession of information which
enabled it to frame its questions so as to obtain more satis-
factory answers.
Garnet at first denied that he had ever conversed with Old-
come through the door at all. At last, after he had been sub-
jected to much questioning, he discovered both that
Gamet's he could not hope to escape, and that there was no
one still in England who would be endangered by a
full confession. Accordingly, on March 8, he told the whole
story of his own connection with the plotters, and this story, as
far at least as the facts of the case are concerned, may pro-
bably, when taken together with subsequent additions, be re-
garded as substantially true. He now admitted that he had
been for some length of time in communication with the prin-
cipal conspirators. lie said that soon after James's accession
< esby told him that, 'there would be some stirring, seeing
the King kept not promise;'- that, about Midsummer 1604,
came to him again, and 'insinuated that he had some-
thing in hand,' but told him no particulars ; and that, soon after-
wards, Greenway informed him that there was some scheme on
which he expressed Ins disapproval both to <■'.<'•
by and to Gre< nway. About Easter, 1605, when Fawkes went
to I landers, Ik- gave him a letter of introdui tion to Baldwin ;
and on June H, in the same year/'1 Catesby asked him a
question whirl) was intended to draw out his opinion on the
1 The report! of the overheard conversations are printed in Jardine,
App. ii. II'- remarks on them (p. 203) : " It is impossible to peruse the
without being struck with the remarl able i." 1
eaking the whole ecrel of his heart unreservedly to his
•i in denial of hi, knowledge of the plot,
and his • ;i >ra word from which it can be implied thai
in hi thai he was untruly accused in this ri pect. On
ontrary, tin- wholi 1 1 iectof hi conversation i- the -mi h
ment of 1 by whit h he may baffle examination and elude detei tion
his only care being to 'contrive safe .11 and to use his own
language ' to wind himself out of thi - m itter."1
2 Declaration of G t, March 1 ;, S. /'. Dom. \\\. 41.
3 Examination "f Garnet, March 12, .V. /'. Dom. \i\. 40. He says
vol. 1. T
274 THE OA TH OF ALLEGIANCE. CH. VII.
lawfulness of the action in which he was engaged, without
letting him know what that action was. The question was,
whether it was lawful to enter upon any undertaking for the
good of the Catholic cause if it should be impossible to avoid
the destruction of some innocent persons together with the
guilty ; to which Garnet, understanding it to refer to military
operations in Flanders against some fortified town in which
innocent persons would share the fortunes of the garrison,
answered in the affirmative. After Catesby was gone, Garnet
began to doubt whether Catesby's question were as abstract as
it appeared at first. He took an early opportunity of warning
Catesby that to make the opinion which he had given about the
innocents worth anything, it was absolutely necessary that the
cause in which they were to be sacrificed should be in itself
lawful. Catesby broke off the conversation, and turned away to
join Monteagle and Tresham, who were in the room at the time.
Garnet gathered from his manner that some plan of insurrection
was in hand.1
Garnet took alarm. He was under orders from Rome
to discountenance any commotion amongst the Catholics ;
and those orders were repeated in the most stringent form
shortly after this meeting, in a letter from Aquaviva, the General
of the Society.
When Garnet next saw Catesby, he showed him the Pope's
letter. " Whatever I mean to do," said Catesby, " if the Pope
knew, he would not hinder for the general good of our country."
Garnet replied that those who did not keep quiet would fly in
the teeth of the direct prohibition of the Pope. " I am not
bound," replied Catesby, " to take knowledge by you of the
Pope's will." Would he not, pleaded Garnet, acquaint the
that this took place on the Saturday after the Octave of Corpus Christi.
In 1605 the Octave fell on June 6, and the Saturday after was June 8.
1 he 9th is the day mentioned in Garnet's indictment ; but the error of a
single day is not material.
1 So I interpret the words : " ' Oh, saith he, let me alone for that ; for
do you not see how I seek to enter into familiarity with this lord? — which
made me imagine that something he intended amongst the nobility."
Garnet's Dedai.-4k>n, March 8, Hatfield MSS. no, fol. 30.
1606 GARNET'S NARRATIVE. 275
Pope with the project. No, said Catesby, ' he would not for
all the world make his particular project known to him for fear
of discover)'.' Catesby, however, at last engaged to do nothing
till the Pope had been informed in general terms of the state
of matters in England, and it was then arranged that Sir Edward
Baynham, who was starting for Flanders, should convey the
information to the Nuncio at Brussels, if not to Rome itself.
To Catesby's offer to acquaint him with the plot which he
had in his mind, Garnet returned a distinct refusal, on the
ground of the prohibition which had come from Rome.
That Garnet was fully aware that violence of some kind
was contemplated it is impossible to doubt. It is equally clear
that he had no objection on principle to such a movement.
By his own account he armies against it on the ground of the
orders of the Pope, but he expresses no opinion on the wicked-
ness of righting wrongs with a strong hand, and he prefers to
know nothing of particulars, though to know particulars would
increase his facilities for arguing against the use of violence.
On the other hand, he may have thought, from the message sent
by Baynham, that the plot, whatever it was, was not to be executed
fur some time to come.
This last < onversation with Catesby took place early in July.
A few days later the Jesuit Greenway visited him and offered
■ quaint him with Catesby's design. After some hesitation,
nel consented to hear the story, provided that it was told him
in ' onfes lion. I Fpon this < Sreenway informed him of everythin] .
walking aboul the room a ike, and afterwards kneeling
down to place his statement under the formal safeguard of
< onfessionJ
According to G I tement, he was thrown into the
greatesl perplexity by this revelation. " l .< rj day," he says,
" I did offer up all my devotions and masses, that God of Hi.
' Garnet itates that Greenway said : ' Being not master of other men'
secrets, he would not tell it me bttt by way of confession, for to have my
direction; but because it was too tedious to relate so long a discourse in
confe^^ion kneeling, if I would take it as a confession walking, and afti 1
take his confession kneeling, then, Or at any Other lime, he would tell
me.' — Garnet's Declaration, March 8, Hatfield MS. no, fol. 30.
7 2
276 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. CH. VII.
mercy and infinite providence would dispose all for the best,
and find the best means which were pleasing unto Him to
prevent so great a mischief; and if it were His holy will and
pleasure to ordain some sweeter means for the good of Catholics."
He wrote, still in general terms to Rome, saying that he ' feared
some particular desperate courses,' and he obtained merely such
an answer as such vague information was likely to receive.
Garnet's horror and perplexity were natural enough, but they
were not of that overpowering nature which would have driven
him to sacrifice ease and life itself to make the villany impos-
sible. He still comforted himself with the reflection that
nothing might be done till Baynham's return, and that Catesby
would fulfil a promise which he had made of visiting him in
the beginning of November, and would so give him the oppor-
tunity of remonstrating with him ; but he did not put his own
neck in danger by leaving his hiding-place to seek him out, in
order to plead against the crime with all the authority of his
calling. Nor does the language which he used to Greenway,
when the first discovery was made, testify to any very strong
initial horror. "Good Lord!" he said, "if this matter go
forward, the Pope will send me to the galleys ; for he will
assuredly think I was privy to it."
Garnet no doubt had, as it were, an official conscience. He
might to a great extent succeed in bringing himself into that
frame of mind which his duty required him to be in. He may
even have shrunk with horror from the cruelties involved in the
execution of the plot. After all, however, he was a man whose
dearest friends were exposed to bitter persecution, and who was
himself liable at any moment to a cruel and ignominious death
by the sentence of a law which he thoroughly believed to be
the work of traitors to the divine government. In such a position
he might easily grow callous to the misery involved in the de-
struction of the enemies of the Church, and even when he
had awakened to some sense of the horrible nature of the crime,
would hardly throw himself with much energy into the work of
averting its execution.
Garnet's trial took place at Guildhall ' on March 28. The
1 State Trials, ii. 218. Ilarl. MSS. 360. fol. 109.
1606 GARNET'S TRIAL. 277
point which was selected as affording a proof of his complicity,
was the conversation with Catesby on June 9. No evidence
Garnet's which would have satisfied a modern jury was pro-
duced ; but it would be unfair to censure the Govern-
ment for disregarding the principles of evidence while as yet
those principles were unrecognised. In fact, the scene at Guild-
hall was a political rather than a judicial spectacle. Neither those
who were the principal actors, nor the multitude who thronged
every approach to the hall, regarded it as the sole or even as
the chief question, whether the old man who stood hopeless but
undaunted at the bar, and who, even by his own confession, had
been acquainted with the recent conspiracy, had looked upon
it with favour or with abhorrence. It was to them rather an
opportunity which had at last been gained, of striking a blow
nst that impalpable system which seemed to meet them at
every turn, and which was the more terrible to the imagination
ause it contained elements with which the sword and the
axe were found to be incapable of dealing. Any man who
e hinted that it was inexpedient that men should he
put to death unless their guilt could be proved by the clearest
evidence, would have been looked upon as a dreamer. The
Pope was still toe; mui li dreaded to make it possible that fair
play should be granted to the supporters of his influence, lie
not yet what he became in the days of Bunyan, the old
man sitting in his cave, hopelessly nursing his impotent wrath.
II power ■ Burghle) and Salisbury, a powerwhich was
only a little rid which might any day become greater, than
their own. They thought that if they < ould get the woli by the
est policy, a well as tlie strictest justice, to
hold it :
In h 1 li tor the prose< ution,1 ( !oke attempted to show
that the conspiracies which had from time to tune broken out
in late y< an had then 10, ,1 m 1 ctices of the
Jesuit So< iety. I I ted that all the plots whi< h
had disturbed the repose ot Elizabeth had originated with
the priests, lie told the JtOry of the breves which had been
1 State Trials, ii. 229.
278 THE OA TH OF ALLEGIANCE. ch. vil,
received by Garnet before the death of Elizabeth, in which all
Catholics were charged not to submit to any successor unless
he would not only give toleration, but also would ' with all his
might set forward the Catholic religion, and, according to the
custom of Catholic princes, submit himself to the See Apos-
tolical.' Garnet had kept these breves till after the death of
the Queen, and had only destroyed them when he found them
to be of no avail. Coke then mentioned the two interviews in
which Catesby had thrown out vague hints of his intentions,
and then passed to the conversation of June 9, which was the
act of treason with which Garnet was charged in the indictment.
The question was whether, in declaring it to be lawful to destroy
some innocent persons together with the guilty, Garnet had merely
given an answer to an abstract question, or whether he knew that
Catesby referred to a plot against the King. If the latter were
the case, he was both technically and morally guilty of treason.
Of this knowledge there was no legal proof whatever. Here,
therefore, in our days the case would at once have broken
Want of down. But there was strong corroborative evidence
proof of the derived from Garnet's apparent approval of the plot
rual nature l
of the con- at a subsequent period, of which Coke was not slow
with to avail himself. He showed that Garnet was ac-
quainted by Greenway with the conspiracy at least
as early as in July ; ' and he then proceeded to allege facts 2
which certainly went to show that he had never evinced any
disapproval of the plot When Baynham was sent by the
traitors into Flanders, it was Garnet who furnished him with a
recommendation. In September, Garnet went down to Goat-
hurst, the house of Sir Everard Digby, from whence he pro-
ceeded on a pilgrimage to St. Winifred's Well, together with a
large number of persons, most of whom were in some way
connected with the conspiracy. Was it possible that he would
have been allowed to accompany the party as a priest if he
1 'June,' in State Trials, ii. 229; but see Examination of Garnet,
March 12, S. P. Dom. xix. 40.
2 Coke merely states facts, without attempting any argument. The
arguments which are here given are extracted and abridged from Mr. Jar-
dine's admirable chapter on the question of Garnet's guilt.
1606 GARXET'S TRIAL. 279
had expressed his abhorrence, as he said that he had, of that
which was undoubtedly the subject of the prayers which many
of them offered on this occasion ? Even if this had been the
case, he would surely have left the party as soon as possible.
Instead of that, he remained at Goathurst, until the family
removed to Coughton, when he accompanied them to the very
e which had been selected as most appropriate for carrying
out the scheme of insurrection which was to follow upon the suc-
of the plot When there, he requested his little congrega-
tion, on All Saints' Day. to pray ' lor some good success for the
Catholic cause at the beginning of Parliament.' ' It was not likely
that the jury would think, that, knowing what he knew, he merely
a>>ked that they should pray for the mitigation of the penal laws.
It is worthy of notice, that while the indictment charged
net with an a< t of treason which it was impossible to prove,
it neglected to mention the conversation with Green-
[* way, to which Coke referred in his speech, and
'• about which no doubt whatever existed. In taking
With (>rccn- "
way. this course the members of Government were pro-
bably influenced by a not unnatural want of moral courage.
They knew that the jury would nol be particular in inquiring
into the proof of the charge which tiny brought, and they
probably considered the indictment to be a merely formal act.
On the other hand, they were aware that the knowledge which
< met derived from Grecnway was obtained under the seal of
confession, and they were certain that they would be assailed
with the most envenomed acrimony by the whole Catholic
world, if they I d a priest whose I rime was that he h.id
revealed a secrel entrusted to him in confession. They
shrank from taking their stand upon the moral principle that
1 II iiig the following verse of a hymn -.
"I Ml
1 redentium de finibu
t 1 < bri to 1 debitaa
1 iti 1."
Mr. fanlinc states that the hymn from which iln, verae Is taken wu au-
ised to t" ' ' iy< ' ;" " can, however, be no dcubt
that on 1I1 i^ occasion it was sung with peculiar fervour.
28o THE OA TH OF ALLEGIANCE. CH. vn.
no religious duty, real or supposed, can excuse a man who
allows a crime to be committed which he might have prevented
and they preferred to be exposed to the charge of having brought
an accusation which they were unable to prove1
Garnet's defence was, that he had never heard of the plot,
excepting in confession. To this he added the improbable
Garnet's statement, which was certainly not the whole of the
defence. truth, that when Catesby offered to give him full in-
formation, he refused to hear him, because ' his soul was so
troubled with the mislike of that particular, as he was loth to
hear any more of it.' 2 As a matter of course, the jury found a
verdict of Guilty.
The execution was deferred. Garnet was again examined
several times after his conviction, and there may possibly have
been some inclination on the part of the King to
His ideas on , . ... _ . .... . . .
truth and save his hie. Lut the Jesuitical doctrine on the sub-
ject of truth and falsehood which he openly pro-
fessed was enough to ruin any man. There was nothing to
make anyone believe in his innocence, except his own assertions,
and the weight of these was reduced to nothing by his known
theory and practice. His doctrine was that of the Treatise
of Equivocation which had been found in Tresham's room,
and which had been corrected by his own hand. He not only
justified the use of falsehood by a prisoner when defending
himself, on the ground that the magistrate had no right to
require him to accuse himself, but he held the far more immoral
doctrine of equivocation. According to this doctrine, the im-
morality of a lie did not consist in the deception practised upon
1 Both Andrcwes and Abbot urge the plea that whoever becomes ac-
quainted with an intended crime, and neglects to reveal it, becomes an ac-
complice ; but they do not give it the prominence that it deserves. — Tortura
Torti, Works of Bishop Andrewes, Oxford, 1851, p. 365, and Antilogia,
cap. 13.
1 Slate Trials, ii. 242. The very long statement by Garnet from the
Hatfield A1SS. 1 10, fol. 30, of which I have made so much use, is endorsed
by Salisbury : — " This was forbidden by the King to be given in evidence."
Was the reason because the Queen was spoken of in it as ' most regarded
of the Pope,' or simply that in it Garnet denied that he knew of the plot
out of confession.
1606 THE DOCTRINE OF EQUIVOCATION. 281
the person who was deceived, but in the difference between the
words uttered and the intended meaning of the speaker. If,
therefore, the speaker could put any sense, however extravagant,
upon the words of which he made use, he might lawfully deceive
the hearer, without taking any account of the fact that he
would be certain to attach some other and more probable
meaning to the words. The following example given in the
treatise, was adopted by Garnet : • " A man cometh unto
Coventry in time of a suspicion of plague. At the gates the
officers meet him, and upon his oath examine him whether he
come from London or no, where they think certainly the plague
to be. This man, knowing for certain the plague not to be in
I idon, or at least knowing that the air is not there infectious,
and that he only rid through some secure place of London, not
staying there, may safely swear that he came not from London,
answering to their final intention in their demand, that is,
whether he came so from London that he may endanger their
of the plague, although their immediate intention were to
know whether he came from London or no. This man the very
light of nature would clear from perjury."
If all liars had been subject to punishment, it would have
ie hard with those members of the Government, whoever
they were, who, in order to involve the Jesuits in the charge of
iplicity with the plot, deliberately suppressed the words in
which both Winter and Fawkes do laud that Gerard, when he
administered the Sacrament to the original conspirators, was
ignorant ol the Oath uhi< h they had previously taken. But the
popular feeling was ri^lu in fixing upon equivocation as more
downright lying] because a person who in
d< feni 1 1 falsi hood, knowing il to be such, is far less
likely to deceive habitually than one who deceives with words
so framed a. to enable him to imagine thai he is in reality
telling no falsehood at all. That popular feeling found a v
1 Treatist on Equivocation, p. So. See the quotation from « 'e aubon'a
letta • 1 1 1 to D In Jorditu, p. 334. Garnet held thai equivi
don was i.nly to b • .'. ieri il be omi 1 ua 1 iry to an individual for
defence, or (or avoiding any injustice or loss, without dang'-, .,t mi chief
to any other person.'
282 THE OA TH OF ALLEGIANCE. CH. vn.
in the words of the Porter in ' Macbeth ' : " 'Faith, here's an
equivocator, that could swear in both scales against either scale ;
who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not
equivocate to heaven." '
At last, on May 3, when it was evident that no further
confession could be extracted from him Garnet was executed,
A ri] the King having given orders that he should not be
cut down until he was dead, so that he might be
May 3. °
Execution spared the torture of the usual barbarities. On the
of Gamet. scaff0i^ }1C persisted in his denial that he had
Trobabi 'ia<^ any Positrve information of the plot except in
truth about confession, though he allowed, as he had acknow-
ledged before, that he had had a general and con-
fused knowledge from Catesby.2 In all probability, this is the
exact truth.
Soon after the execution, all Catholic Europe was listening
with eager credulity to the story of Garnet's straw. It was said
Gamet's that one of the straws used upon the scaffold had a
straw. minute likeness of the martyr's head on one of the
husks. The miracle was trumpeted abroad by those who
should have known better, and found its way from common
conversation into the pages of grave writers. An inquiry was
instituted by the Government, and it was found that some who
had seen the straw declared that there was nothing wonderful
in the matter at all, and that the drawing could have been
easily executed by any artist of moderate skill.
Oldcorne was taken to Worcester, where he was convicted
1 Professor Hales, in an article which appeared in Preiser's Magazine
for April 1878, in which he pointed out the fact that many of the places
connected with the plot lay round Stratford-on-Avon, drew attention to
the connection between this passage and Garnet's principles.
■ The following version of this part of his speech puts this clearly : —
"Decrimine quod objicitur tormentarii pulveris, . . . ita moriar in Domino,
ac non sum conscius nisi a confessione. . . . Mihi quidem narrabat R,
Catesbeius, universe- tantum ac confuse, pro sublevanda fide Catholica
afflictissima jamque prostrata, aliquid esse tentandum. Nihil vero certi
exploratique narrabat." Account of Garnet's death, May 3, Roman Traw
scripts, A\ 0.
1606 THE SEXTEXCES IX THE STAR CHAMBER. 283
of treason and executed. Abington also was sentenced to
Execution of death, but was finally pardoned. The priests and
Oldcome. others implicated in the plot, who were now in
Flanders, were beyond the reach of the Government, as the
Archduke steadily refused to give them up.
It only remained to deal with the lords who had given cause
of suspicion by absenting themselves from the meeting of Par-
liament. Montague escaped from the Star Chamber with a
fine of 4,000/., Stourton with one of 1,000/., whilst Mordaunt
was set free upon paying 200/. to the Lieutenant of the Tower.1
Northumberland was a prisoner of greater importance. His
Mr h connection 2 with Percy brought him under suspicion,
and the fact that Percy had come down to Sion House
,„„. to speak to him the day before the meeting of Parlia-
ment, was certain to strengthen whatever suspicions
were entertained.
The Earl was examined on the nature of his dealings with
Percy, but nothing was elicited to his disadvantage. At least
up to Man h 3, Salisbury expressed his belief in his innocence,
though he supposed that he had probably received some general
June 27. warning from Percy.8 On June 27, he was brought
1 ::i1'" before the Star Chamber, and was forced to listen
( to a long and passionate harangue from Coke, who,
r mentionin d done in Rail ! case, all manner
of plots with which he was unable to prove that the prisoner
'1 him « ith ha\ ing unitti d
.pis and misdemeanours against the King. I lis
employmenl of Pen y to carrj letters to James in Scotland was
I him, a it he had attempted to put himsell al
the head of the Catholic party. It wa al bjected that after
the the plol he had written letters to his tenant ?,
directing them to keep his rent, oul of Percy's hands, but
nothing about the appn h< n ion of the traitor. Amid t
e trivialities appeared a charge ot a graver nature. <>n
1 The original fines were, as U U than those ultin
manded. P. 235.
3 Salisbury t-> Edmonds, Dec 2. 1605. Birch., Vigotiations, 242.
Salisbury to Brouncker, March 3, iGuh, S. /'. Inland.
2S4 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. CH. VII.
June 9, 1604, at the very time when Percy had just signed the
lease for the house in Westminster, that traitor had been admitted
as one of the gentlemen pensioners, whose office it was to be in
daily attendance upon the King. Not only had Northumber-
land admitted him to this post, in virtue of his position as
Captain of the Pensioners, but he had admitted him without
requiring the Oath of Supremacy, and, if Coke is to be believed,
had afterwards denied the fact that the oath had not been
administered. Northumberland must have committed this
dereliction of duty with his eyes open, as shortly after the
King's accession he had received a letter from James, distinctly
ordering that no one was to be admitted as a pensioner who
refused to take the oath.1 By this weakness— for undoubtedly
it was no more than a weakness — he had disobeyed the orders
given him, and had placed about the person of the King a man
who was engaged in plotting his death. Indeed, it was by the
opportunities offered to him by his position as a pensioner that
Percy hoped to be able to carry out that part of the plot which
related to the seizure of Prince Charles.2
The sentence was, that the Earl should forfeit all the
offices which he held under the Crown, should be imprisoned
The sen- during the King's pleasure, and should pay a fine
tence. 0f -jo,ooo/., a sum which was afterwards reduced
to 11,000/.
It was supposed at the time,3 and it has since been generally
believed, that this harsh sentence was dictated by political
feeling, and by a desire to get rid of a spirited rival. It may
have been so, and it would have been strange if, with a court
composed as the Star Chamber was, such feelings had been
altogether excluded. Yet it must be remembered that the
admission of Percy without requiring the oath from him was
no light fault, and that it was one which was likely to make its
1 The King to Northumberland, May 18, 1603, S. P. Dom. i. 81.
2 Proceedings against Northumberland, Harl. MSS. 589, fob ill.
Compare Add. MSS. 5494, fob 61.
3 Boderie to Villeroi, 4^ : 1606. Ainbassadcs de M. De la Bodcrie,
July 6,
L. 180. This letter proves that the sentence was agreed upon at least the
day before the trial.
1606 BEGINNING OF A NEW SESSION. 285
full hnpression upon the timid mind of James. It is possible
that the nature of this fault had not come to light till a short
time before the trial, as Cecil, in a letter of March 3, does not
refer at all to the omission of the oath.1 Perhaps it may have
been the full discovery of the particulars of this transaction
which turned the scale against the Earl.
Undisturbed by the discovery of the danger which had been
so happily averted, the Parliament for which such a sudden
destruction had been prepared, had quietly met on
Nov. 5, 1605. ' L 1 j
Meeting of November 5. In the Upper House no business was
done, but the Commons with extraordinary self-com-
mand, applied themselves to the regular routine of business.
It is difficult to understand how these men, scarcely snatched
from death, betook themselves, without apparent emotion, to
such matters as the appointment of a committee to inquire
into the regulations of the Spanish trade, and the discussion of
the petition of a member who asked to be relieved from his
Parliamentary duties because he was suffering from a fit of the
gout.
On the 9th the King commanded an adjournment to
January 21, in order that time might be given for
im- further inquiry into the ramifications of the con-
mem.
spiracy.
1 This letter to Brouncker, before quoted, reads like the production of
n. man who meant what he aid. Bi ides, there was no conceivable reason
for a bypi 1 ii''- to mention tin- ubji cl -'i all in writing to the President of
Munster, Sal • "F01 the other great man, you know the
Kind's noble disposition to be alw •■ uch as, although In- may not in
such a case as tb r< ence ind for ghl neo >sary in cases
public, and then ti ined, upon many concurring circum-
gtarn train liberty where he had cause of jealousy, yet, considering
the gi ol hi I 1 the improbability thai he Bhould be ac-
quainted with such a barbarous plot, being a nun of honour and valour,
ty i. rath' r induced to believe thai whal iny of the trail
have spoken of him, hath been rather th'ir vaunts than upon any oth 1
ground; I think hi- liberty will, the next term, 1 e granted
upon honourable and gracious terms, which, foi my own part, though there
hath never been any extraordinary deamess between us, I wish, becau e
this state is very barren of men <>f great bio 'I and great sufficiency to-
gether."
286 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. ch. vn.
On their reassembling, the attention of the Houses was
necessarily directed to the danger from which they had escaped.
A Bill was eagerly passed, by which November 5 was
Jan. 21. ordered to be kept as a day of thanksgiving for ever.1
NOTemhber ^at ^ct continued in force for more than two cen-
set apart as turies and a half, and was only repealed when the
thanks- service which was originally the outpouring of thank-
ful hearts had long become an empty form.
A Bill of Attainder 2 was also passed, in which the names
of Owen, who was still bidding defiance to the law, and of
Bill of At- Tresham, who had died in prison, were included
tamder. vidtli those of the conspirators who had been killed
at Holbeche, or who had been executed in London. The
immediate effect of such an Act was that the lands and goods
of the whole number were at once forfeited to the Crown.
There had been, indeed, some who thought these proceed-
ings insufficient. A few days before the prisoners were brought
Tan 24 UP f°r tr^> a member of the House of Commons
Proposal to moved for a petition to the King, praying him to
inflict ex- . . l ., _ ,. ,,-,,.
traordinary stay judgment until Parliament should have time to
punishment • j r i • i r • 1
on the consider of some extraordinary mode of punishment,
offenders. which might surpass in horror even the scenes which
usually occurred at the execution of traitors.3 To the credit of
the House, this proposal met with little favour, and was rejected
without a division. A similar attempt in the House
of Lords met with the same fate.4 It is pleasant to
know that the times were already past in which men could be
sentenced by Act of Parliament to be boiled alive, and that, in
the seventeenth century, if London had some horrible sights
still to see, it was, at least, not disgraced by scenes such as
those which, a few years later, gathered the citizens of Paris
round the scaffold of Ravaillac.
It can hardly surprise us that, in spite of this
New taws
against the general feeling against the infliction of extraordinary
punishments, Parliament had no scruple in increas-
1 3 Jac. I. cap. I. 2 3 Jac. I. cap. 2.
3 C. J. Jan. 24, i. 259. * L. J. Jan. 30, ii. 365.
1606 NEW RECUSANCY LAWS. 287
ing the severity of the recusancy laws.1 For the first time, a
sacramental test was to be introduced into the service of per-
secution. It was not to be enough that a recusant had been
brought to conformity, and had begun once more to attend
the parish church ; unless he would consent to receive the
sacrament from the hands of the Protestant minister, he was to
be called upon to pay a heavy fine. It is impossible to con-
ceive a greater degradation of that rite which the whole Christian
Church agrees in venerating.
In order to stimulate the activity of the churchwardens
and the parish constables, it was enacted that a fine of twenty
shillings should be laid upon them whenever they neglected to
present persons who absented themselves from church ; and
that, on the other hand, they should receive a reward of double
the amount upon every conviction obtained through their means.
Up to tins time, the very rich had escaped the extreme
penalties of re< usancy, as, when once they had paid the monthly
fine, the law had no further (hum upon them, though the
amount of their fine might be of far less value than the two-
thirds of the profits of their estate which would have been taken
from them if they had been poorer men. The King was now
empowered to refuse the fine and to seize the land at once.
In order that the poorer Catholics might feel the sting of the
law, a penalty of 10/. was to be laid every month upon all
ping servants who absented themselves from church.
Jiy this in' an . it wra 1 thoughl thai the numerous servants in the
the Catholic gentry would be driven into conformity
or deprived of their employment
Tin ill : it was ordered that mi recusant should
appear al Court, 01 even remain within ten miles of London,
unless he were actually engaged in some recognised trade or
employment A statute ol the late reign was also confirmed,
which prohibited r< from leaving their houses for any
mce above five miles.9 It may be allowed that re« cut ex-
perience justified the exclusion of the Catholics from all public
offices in the State ; but it was hard to forbid them, as the new
1 3 Jac. I cip. 4 and 5. J 35 EHz. cap. 2.
2SS THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. ch. VII.
statute did, from practising at the bar, from acting as attorneys
or as physicians, or from executing trusts committed to them by
a relative as executors to his will, or as guardians to his children.
Further penalties awaited them if they were married, or suffered
their children to be baptized, with any other rites than those of
the Church of England. All books inculcating the principles of
their religion were to be destroyed, and permission was given
to the justices of the peace to visit their houses at any time, in
order to deprive them of all arms beyond the little stock which
might be considered necessary for the defence of their lives
and property.
These harsh measures were accompanied by the imposition
of a new oath of allegiance. This oath was framed for the
The new purpose of making a distinction between the Catholics
oath. wno stjji Upheid the Pope's deposing power and those
who were willing to denounce that tenet. Objectionable as
all political oaths are, and unjust as are the penalties which
are inflicted on those who refuse to take them, the introduc-
tion of a declaration of loyalty might, at this time, have been
a step in the right direction. If it was thought necessary
that Catholics should be punished at all, it was better that
they should suffer for refusing to acknowledge that their Sove-
reign possessed an independent authority than that they
should suffer for refusing to go to church. It was in some
degree creditable to James and his ministers that, at such a
time, they were able to remember the possibility of making a
distinction between the loyal and the disloyal amongst the
Catholics ; but that which might have been an instrument of
good, became in their hands an instrument of persecution. It
was enacted that the oath might be tendered to all recusants
not being noblemen or noble women, and that those who re-
fused to take it should incur the harsh penalties of a premunire,
whilst those who took it still remained subject to the ordinary
burdens of recusancy. The oath which might have been used
to lighten the severity of the laws which pressed so heavily even
upon the loyal Catholics, was only employed to increase the
burdens upon those who refused to declare their disbelief in a
tenet which was inculcated by the most venerated teachers of their
i6o6 THE CANONS OF IC06 2S9
Church, and which might be held innocuously by thousands
who would never dream of putting it in practice.
Parliament had thus acted, as it was only too likely to act,
under the influence of panic. It had replied to the miserable
crime of a few fanatics by the enactment of an unjust
drawn uo by and barbarous statute. Convocation determined to
seize the opportunity of enunciating those principles
of government which were considered by its members to be the
true antidote against such attempts. Under Bancroft's guidance,
a controversial work ' was produced, to which, as well as to the
canons which were interspersed amongst its pages, that body
its unanimous consent. These canons, as well as the
ments by which they were accompanied, have been, in
Liter times, justly condemned as advocating, at least indirectly,
an arbitrary form of government. It should, however, in
justice to the men by whom they were drawn up, be re-
nbered that, if the solution which they proposed for the
difficulties of the time was not a happy one, it was at least put
forward with the intention of meeting actual and recognised
evils. Their argument indeed struck at Papist and Presby-
terian alike, but it was evident that it was intended as a mani-
festo against the Church of Rome. That Church had based
its assaults on the national sovereignties of Europe upon two
tinct theories: at times the right of the Pope to depose
kings had been placed in the foreground; at other times re-
sistai encouraged against ((instituted authorities under
the guise of the democrats doctrine of popular sovereignty.
In the name of the one theory, England had been exposed to
invasion, and Elizabeth had been marked out for the knife of
the assassin ; in the name of the other theory, the fair plain, oi
nee had been deluged with blood, and her ancient monarchy
d to the base. All true-hearted Englishmen
were of one mind in condemning the false! d of the prin
(iples which had produced such results as these. Government,
they believed, was of Divine institution, and was of far too high
a nature to be allowed to depend upon the arbitrary will of the
1 Published in 1690, under the title of Bishop VioalPs Con cation
Book.
VOL. I. U
2cp THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. CH. vii.
Pope, or of any body of clergy whatever ; still less should it
depend upon the equally arbitrary will of the people ; it ought
not to be based upon will at all ; it was only upon right that it
could rest securely.
Such a theory had evidently a better side than those are
accustomed to perceive who malign the Church of England as
a mere handmaid of tyranny. It was a recognition, in the
only way which, in that age, was possible, of the truth that
society is a whole and that religious teachers cannot right-
fully claim a place apart from it, as if they were removed from
the errors and failings of human nature. Where those who held
this theory went astray was in the mistake which they made as to
the permanence of the special organization of the society in
which they lived. They fancied that the Elizabethan monarchy
ought to be perpetual. It was not unnatural that they should
fancy that James was even greater than Elizabeth had been ;
that he was indeed the rising sun, come to take the place
of a ' bright, occidental star.' Not a suspicion ever crossed
their minds that their ecclesiastical cause was not the cause
of God, and they knew that for the support of that cause
they could depend upon the King alone. It was one of the
first articles of their creed, that the people could be moulded
into piety by their system, and it was plain that, without
the King's help, their system would crumble into dust. Was
it wonderful, then, that they thought less of the law and more
of the Sovereign than their lay fellow-countrymen ? Was it
strange that they read history and Scripture with jaundiced
eyes, and that they saw nothing there but the doctrine that, in
each nation, the power of the Sovereign who for the time being
occupied the throne, was held by the special appointment of
God, and that this power was of such a nature that under
no imaginable circumstances was it lawful to resist it ? The
fact was, that the rule of James appeared to them as the rule
of right over lawlessness, and that they gladly elevated into a
principle that which, in their eyes, was true in the individual
case.
But whatever may have been the circumstances under
which the doctrine of non-resistance originated, it is certain
i6o6 NON-RESISTANCE. 291
that it was false in itself, and that it hung like a blight for
Conse- many years over the energies of England. If it had
quences of ever obtained general recognition, it would have cut
the doctrine . ,, , , ° .
..-re- at the root of all that has made the nation to be what
it is ; it would have eaten out that sense of right,
and that respect for the law, which is at the bottom of all the
progress of the country.
Strange as it may seem, the first blow directed against this
elaborately-constructed theory came from the King himself. A
. . doctrine which based his claim to the obedience of
James s
letter to his subjects merely upon the fact of his being in
possession of the crown, was not likely to find much
favour in his eyes. According to this reasoning, as he justly
observed, if the King of Spain should ever conquer England,
his own subjects would be precluded from attempting to shake
off the yoke of the invader. Nor was it only to that part of the
canons which struck at his own hereditary title that James
objected : he told the astonished clergy plainly that, whatever
they might think, it was not true that tyranny could ever be of
( rod's appointment. Me was himself desirous to maintain the in
dependence of the Dutch, and he did not believe that in so doin-
he was assisting them to throw off an authority ordained of
God.1 II' ao ordingly refused to give his consent to this un-
lu< ky produ< tiun of the Convocation.
If the theories of the Bishops gave offence to the King, they
were far more likely to provoke opposition on the part of th<
The< who were looking to the law of England as the one
• ' lard against arbitrary power of every de
scription. '1 I nons of 1604 had given umbrai
i" the ( ommoi 1 lally as, in ratifying them.
James had commanded tin in to ' be diligently ob
served, 1 d, and equally kept by all our lo^
' subji our kingdom.'8 The Common
cou: nted this claim oi th< clergy to legislate for the
whole people 0\ I ngl md, and 1 p< - ially their attempt to < r<
punishable offences, a right wlu< h they held to be inherent in
1 The King to Abbot. Wilkins'a Cone. iv. 405
2 Cardwell'a .tynoda.ia,
v 2
292 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. CH. VII.
Parliament alone. A Bill was accordingly brought in, in the
course of the following session, for the purpose of restraining
the execution of all canons which had not been confirmed by
Parliament. The Bishops, however, had sufficient influence to
procure its rejection by the House of Lords.
Whatever the Catholics may have thought of this produc-
tion of the Convocation, the oath of allegiance was to them a
The oath of for more serious matter. It had been, indeed, framed
allegiance. ^^ tne intention of making it acceptable to all loyal
persons. The Pope's claim to excommunicate Sovereigns was
left unquestioned. The oath was solely directed against his sup-
posed right of pronouncing their deposition, and of authorising
their subjects to take up arms against them. Those who took
it were to declare that no such right existed, to promise that
they would take no part in any traitorous conspiracies, and to
abjure the doctrine that excommunicated princes might be
deposed or murdered by their subjects.
To the oath itself it is impossible to find any reasonable
objection. If there had ever been a time when the infant
Thede- nations required the voice of the Pope to summon
posing them to resist tyranny, that time had long passed by.
power of j j >
the Popes. fhe deposing power in the hands of the Popes of the
sixteenth century had been an unmixed evil. The oath too may
fairly be regarded as a serious attempt to draw a line of separation
between the loyal and the disloyal Catholics, and if it had been
;k ( ompanied with a relaxation of the penal laws in favour of
those who were willing to take it, it would have been no incon-
siderable step in advance. Its framers, however, forgot that there
would be large numbers, even of the loyal Catholics, who would
refuse to take the oath. Men who would have been satisfied
to allow the deposing power to be buried in the folios of theo-
losians, and who would never have thought of allowing it to have
any practical influence upon their actions, were put upon their
mettle as soon as they were required to renounce a theory which
they had been taught from their childhood to believe in almost
as one of the articles of their faith. Nor would their tenacity be
hout a certain moral dignity. Unfounded and pernicious as
the Papal theory was, it certainly gains by comparison with that
1605 FINANCIAL DISORDER. 293
mere adoration of existing power which had just been put for-
ward by Convocation as the doctrine of the Church of England.
In the midst of its discussions on weightier matters, Parlia-
ment had found some time to devote to the consideration of
the Kind's necessities. Ever since James's accession,
Emptiness ° J
the state of the Exchequer had been such as to cause
no little trouble to those who were responsible for
the administration of the finances. The long war had consider-
ably affected, at least for a time, the resources of the Crown.
Parsimonious as she was, Elizabeth had been compelled, during
the last five years of her reign, to sell land to the value of
372,000/.,' and had besides contracted a debt of 400,000/.
There was indeed, when James came to the throne, a portion
still unpaid of the subsidies which had been voted in the time
of his predecessor, which was estimated as being about equal in
amount to the debt, yet if this money were applied to the extinc-
tion of the debt it was difficult to see how the expenses of the
Government were to be met. If the King had modelled his
expenditure upon that of Elizabeth, he could hardly succeed in
reducing it much below 330,000/., and during the past years of his
11 his income from other than Parliamentary sources fell short
of this by more than 3o,ooo/.2 It is probable, indeed, that some
e revenue whi< h should have supplied thewants of James had
n antH ipated by his predecessor. Eitherfrom this cause, or
from iomeothei reason connected with the returning prosperity
lent upon the cessation of the war, the receipts of 1604
were mm li larger than those of the preceding year. But whatever
hope might be entertained on this a< 1 ount, was < ounterbalani ed
by the < onfusion < aused by the extraordinary expenseswhich were
like' imetimeto] on the Exchequer. The funeral of
1 iew of the Ri 1 nditure, July 24, 1608,
/' ///. \\ 1% .
1 inpare the calculation* in T-an d, i/.vv. iG\, fols. 435, 436, 505,
with tho e in Parliamentary fk/>a/rs in 1610, Camd. Soc, In trod. •<.
The latter do not in< lude the ( ourt "f Wardi and the Duch; of] an* a U >,
and they commence the year at Eastei In tead of al Michaelmas. The
amount of tli a) James's acc< ion, which is variously stated in
different reports of speeches, is fixed by the official account in the .S'. /'.
Dom. xix. 45.
294 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. ch. vn.
the late Queen, the King's entry and coronation, the entertainment
of the Spanish ambassadors, and other necessary expenses, would
entail a charge of at least 100,000/., a sum which bore about
the same relation to the income of 1603 as a sudden demand
for 26,000,000/. would bear to the revenue of the present day.
The financial position of James, therefore, was beset with
difficulties. But it was not hopeless. If he had consented to
Prospects of regulate his expenditure, not indeed by the scale of the
a remedy. jate par.simonious reign, but in such a way as a man
of ordinary business habits would have been certain to ap-
prove of, he might, in the course of a few years, have found
himself independent of Parliament, excepting in times of
extraordinary emergency. There were many ways in which the
revenue was capable of improvement, and it would not be many
years before a balance might once more be struck between the
receipts and the outgoings of the Exchequer ; but there was
little hope that, even if James had been less extravagant than
he was, the needful economy would be practised. Elizabeth
had been her own minister of finance, and had kept in check
the natural tendency to extravagance which exists wherever
there is no control over the heads of the various departments
of the State and of the Household. With her death this salu-
tary control was at an end, and no official body similar to the
present Board of Treasury was at hand to step into the vacant
place. James, indeed, from time to time, was ready enough to
express his astonishment at what was going on. He never
failed to promise retrenchment whenever his attention was
called to the state of his finances, and to declare that he had at
last made up his mind to change his habits ; but no sooner had
some new fancy struck him, or some courtier approached him
with a tale of distress, than he was sure to fling his prudence to the
winds. The unlucky Treasurer was only called upon, when it
was too late to remonstrate, to find the money as he could.
Growth of Every year the expenditure was growing. In the
rpeodi- twelve months which came to an end at Michaelmas
lure arid
ofthedeu. 1605, it had reached what in those days was con-
sidered to be,1 for a year of peace, the enormous sum of
1 That is to say, the income from unparliamentary sources. The
1606 FINANCIAL DISORDER. 295
466,000/.' To meet this every nerve had been strained in
vain. The revenue had been improved, and the subsidies
voted in the time of Elizabeth had been diverted from the
repayment of the debt, in order to meet the current expendi-
ture. Large debts had been incurred in addition to the debt
which was already in existence. Money had been obtained by
a forced loan bearing no interest, which had been raised by
Privy Seals immediately after the close of the session of 1604,
and in addition to this easy mode of putting off the difficulty,
recourse had been had to the method of borrowing consider-
able sums at what was then the ordinary rate of 10 per cent.
After all this, it was still found to be necessary to leave many
bills unpaid. At the beginning of 1606, the whole debt
amounted to 735, ooo/.,2 and it was calculated that the annual
deficit would reach 51,000/., without allowing for those extra-
ordinary expenses to which, under James's management, it was
impossible to place any limit, but which seldom fell short of
100,000/. a year.
The King's extravagance had shown itself in various ways.
About 40,000/. were annually given away, either in presents or
in annuities paid to men who had done little or nothing to
merit the favour which they had received.3 Those into whose
subsidies were uncertain, and should have been applied to the redemption
of the debt.
1 Winn Parliament met in 1606 £
The ordinary issues were ..... 366,790
ordinary reed 314,959
Excess of issues ^"51 ,83 1
( . /'. Dom. xix. 46.) Besidi this, it WIS found that the actual receipts
hod fallen ihortof the estimates by 6,000/. The extraordinary expendi-
ture appears from the Ftth Declarations to have been about 100,000/.,
making a total expenditure of about 466,000/.
2 By Dorset's declaration £
The King's debt at his ace- lion WS . . 400,000
His extraordinary exp tring three yean . 104,000
The new debt 231,280
(S. P. Dom. xix. 45.) £735. 28°
3 Parliamentary debates in 16 IO. Camd. Soc. Introd. p. xiii.
296 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. ch. VII.
pockets the golden stream was flowing were not the statesmen
who were consulted by the King on every question of impor-
tance ; they were the men who, whether of Scottish or of
English birth, had raised themselves by their ability to tickle
their patron's ear with idle jests, and to minister to his amuse-
ments in his leisure hours. Under such conditions, the expenses
<4 the Court swelled every year. The pension list grew longer,
the jewels more costly, and the robes more gorgeous than those
with which Elizabeth had been content. In political life,
indeed, the Ramsays and the Herberts were as yet kept in the
background. As long as Salisbury lived, such as they were
not allowed to meddle with appointments to office, or to sway
the destinies of the State ; but their very presence at Coiir*
must have been highly obnoxious to the grave and sober men
who formed so large a part of the House of Commons.
\ et, unless the Commons could be persuaded to come
forward with liberal supplies, James would not only be com-
Oct 18 pclled to pause in his career of extravagance, but
1605. would be unable to meet the most justifiable
wSiS to be demands on the Exchequer. Salisbury, who knew
that it would be necessary to make application to
Parliament, had been urgent with James to retrench. Within
three weeks of the meeting of Parliament, James had done all
that words could do to show how completely he recognised the
danger of his situation. " I cannot," he wrote to Salisbury on
October 18, "but be sensible of that needless and unreasonable
profusion of expenses, whereof you wrote me in your last. My
only hope that upholds me is my good servants, that will sweat
and labour for my relief. Otherwise I could rather have
wished, with Job, never to have been, than that the glorious
sunshine of my first entry here should be so soon overcast
with the dark clouds of irreparable misery. I have promised,
and I will perform it, that there shall be no default in me ; my
only comfort will be to knowr it is mendable. For my appre-
hension of this state — however I disguise it outwardly— hath
done me more harm already than ye would be glad of."1
On February 10, whilst the feelings of the Commons were
1 Hatfield MSS. 134, foL 72.
1606 COMMITTEE OF SUPPLY. 297
still under the influence of their great deliverance, the sub-
Fcb. 10. ject of a supply was brought forward. The greater
Su '^°6' number of speakers proposed a grant of two subsidies
M-orosed in and four fifteenths, which would amount to about
Ihe Com- , , , , , ,
250,000/.' The whole matter was, however, referred
to a Committee, which was to meet on the following afternoon.
Of this Committee Bacon was a member. He was now
looking forward again to promotion. In October, 1604, the
Solicitor-Generalship had been vacant, but he had
a in once more been passed over in favour of Sir John
Doderidge. He can hardly have failed to gain
the King's favour, a few weeks later, by the zeal which he
ved in the consultations of the Commissioners on the
Union ; and it had become evident, by the course taken by
the Commons in the last session, that it was more than ever
necessary to secure the services of a man of ability ami talent,
who might take the lead in the debates. Such a part was
tly to his mind In October 1605, he had completed his
great work on ' The Advancement of Learning,' and he was now
eager t ote himself to polities. Anxious as lie was for
reform, he wished to see it proceed from the Crown, and he-
had not given up hope that the mistakes of James were a
1 A subsidy was an income-tax of 4_r. in the pound upon the annual
value of land worth 20*. a-year, and a property- tax of 2s. S</. in the pound
up >n the actual value of all personal property worth j/. and upwards.
I property was, therefore, much more heavily burdened than real
'III.- tenths and fifteenths were levied upon the counties and
boroughs at a i> 'I'd by a valuation made in the reign ol
III. Each county or borough was n ponsible for a certain um,
whi evied by person appointed by il repn 1 in the H
J were levied by Commi appointed by
lor from amongst the inhabitants of the county or
Apparently, from the laxity ol I tarn tei , the receipts had
Steadily ng. Thu
mbsidy of the laity, with two loths and £
1 5 ths, produced in 13 Elk. . . . 175,'"")
i liz 152,290
in 4 1 1 it/ 134.470
Ditto in 3 Jac. 133,897
Oct. 2S, 1608.— S. r. Dom. xxxvii. 38.
298 THE OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. CH. VII.
mere passing cloud, which would be removed as soon as he
was rendered accessible to good advice. To serve the King
in any capacity which would enable him to share in the councils
of the State had long been the object of his ambition. In this
session, however, there were few difficulties of a nature to call
for the exercise of superior powers. The effect of the discovery
of the Gunpowder plot had been to produce a strong feeling in
Feb. 10. the King's favour.1 On the first morning after the
thanuTife appointment of the Committee, the King thanked
House. the House for its offer to supply his wants, and
signified his readiness to allow the question of purveyance to
be again taken into consideration. A few days afterwards,
Feb. i4. however, at a conference held on this subject, the
news^itufs5 Lord Treasurer took the opportunity of expatiating
explained. on the King's necessities. A month passed before
the question was taken up by the House itself, and then, on
Subsidies March 14, a proposition was made to increase the
granted. supply to which they had already agreed.2 There
was some opposition, and the debate was adjourned till the
1 8th. When the House met on that day, a message was
brought from the King, begging them to come to a speedy
decision, one way or the other, upon the proposed supply, as
he was unwilling to see his necessities exposed to any further
discussion. Upon this, after some debate, an additional sub-
sidy with its accompanying two fifteenths was voted, and a
Committee was appointed to draw up the Bill. On the 25th,
Bacon reported the recommendations of the Committee. A
debate ensued upon the length of time which was to be allowed
for the payment of the six portions into which the
supply granted was to be divided ; and it was not
without difficulty that Bacon carried his proposal that the
whole grant should be levied before May, 16 10.
' C. J. i. 266.
2 C. J. i. 271. There is no mention of the report of the Committee,
but it must be supposed that they recommended a Bill for two subsidies
and four fifteenths, as Salisbury speaks, on March 9, of the grant as
already made, though nothing had been done formally (Salisbury to Mar,
March, 1606, S. P. Dom. ix. 27).
loo6 EXD OF THE SESSION. 299
His arguments were rendered more palatable by a circum-
stance which had occurred a few days previously. On the 22nd
March 2?. a rumour reached London that the King had been
theIKinrs,s0f murdered, and when the report proved false, the mem-
death. Ders must have felt that, much as they might dislike
many of James's actions, they could hardly afford to lose him.
Prince Henry was still a child, and the prospect of a minority
at such a time was not to be regarded with complacency.
The readiness with which this supply was granted was the
more remarkable because the efforts of the Commons to pass
Efforu to a Bill against the abuses of purveyance had been
abuwsof* wrecked on the resistance of the Lords. Nor were
purveyance, (fr^y satisfied by a proclamation in which the King
put an end to most of those abuses, as he left untouched the
claim of his officers to settle at their pleasure the prices which
they would give. It appears, however, that the officers took
care not to revert to their old malpractices, and some years later
the counties agreed to a composition by which a sum of money
was to be paid annually in lieu of the burden of purveyance.
Not only did the Commons pass their subsidy bill in spite
of this treatment, but they did not insist upon obtaining an
immediate answer to the petition of grievances whi< li
of«rEfv.",(: they had drawn up. They contented themselves
with leaving it for the consideration of the Govern-
ment during the recess. On May 27 Parliament was prorogued,
and the King and the Lower House parted in far better humour
with one another than at the close of the preceding session.
A tew days after the prorogation, the death of Sir Fran< 1 1
Ciawdy, the Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, threw into the
hands of the ( Irown one of the most important of the
June 20. ...,,....
1 legal appointments in its ^ift. I lie place was given
to Coke, whose during the trials of the
Gunpowder conspirators thus obtained their reward. Coke's
1 1 houcs removal opened a prospect of promotion to Bacon, as
' . the two men were onsuchbad terms with oneanother
tor-
c.tncrai. that they could not be expected to work togethei in
offices so closely connected as were those of the two chief 1
advisers of the Crown. At the time when bacon was engaged in
3oo THE OATH OF ALLEGIAXCE. CH. vii.
supporting the Government in Parliament during the session
which was just concluded, he had received promises of promo-
tion both from Salisbury and from the King himself. Ellesmere,
who always looked with favour upon Bacon, had suggested that
whenever the Attorney-General should go up to the Bench,
Doderidge, the Solicitor-General, might rise to the post of
King's Serjeant. Bacon might then succeed Doderidge, and
the Attorney-General's place, to which he made no claim,
would be at the disposal of the Government.1 Accordingly, when
July 4. the vacancy occurred, the Attorneyship was conferred
becomes on Sir Henry Hobart, a sound lawyer and an up-
Attomey- right man, who had Salisbury's good word on his side.
(.eneral. ° ' J ° .
p.acon is not Doderidge, however, remained Solicitor-General for
promoted, another year, and Bacon failed to receive the appoint-
ment which he had been led to expect, though the reasons of
his failure are left to conjecture.
From cares of state James easily turned aside to his
pleasures. Scarcely was the session over when he was looking
July i7. anxiously for the arrival of his brother-in-law, Christian
Kitoerf IV. of Denmark. The two kings enjoyed one
Denmark. another's company, hunted together, and feasted to-,
gether. Christian was an able ruler, but he was addicted to
drinking beyond all bounds of moderation. The English court
(aught the infection of evil. At a feast given by Salisbury to
their Majesties at Theobalds, English ladies, who were to have
taken part in a masque, reeled about the hall in a state of in-
toxication, and the King of Denmark was carried off to bed
when he was no longer able to stand.2 James showed no sign
of displeasure that these things had taken place in his presence.
If he did not do evil himself, he was without the power of
checking those who did.
1 Bacon to the King, Letters and Life, iii. 293.
2 Harington's Nuga antiqucc, ii. 126.
?oi
CHAPTER VIII.
THE POST-NATI.
In the busy session which had come to an end in May 1606,
no time had been found for a discussion on that union with
Scotland which James had so much at heart By
•i common consent the whole subject was postponed to
the ensuing winter. Whatever diflfo ulties might stand
in the King's way in England, it hardly seemed likely
that he would meet with serious opposition in Scotland. Al-
ly, whilst the English Parliament was still in session, events
had occurred in the northern kingdom which showed how
much James could there venture on with impunity.
It is usually taken for granted that the accession of James
to the throne of England 1 n ibled him to inti rfere with gr< at
weight iu Scottish affairs, and that it contributed in
1 no small decree to the subsequent overthrow of the
Pi bvterian There < an be little douhi
r 1 111 111
the ■ 1 hange have been 1 onsiderabl;
• •. ,|. I- ndeed, that James was now sate fi
radical purpo e hi strength was
than it wa 1 bi fore. I te found no standing army
in England which might Berv< to overawe his Scottish subje<
., n it he had atti mpted to raise English fore to upp 1
any movement ii tl North, he would certainly have roused
tam e in all 1 lasses. Nor was the money whi< h
he squandered upon som< ol hi 1 ountrymen likely to 1 on< iliate
opposition. The men whose names figure in the accounl o(
the EngKsh Exchequt eivera of pensions or of gifts, the
302 THE POST-NATI. ch. viii.
Hays, the Ramsays, and the Humes, were not the men who
held the destinies of Scotland in their hands. The great nobi-
lity, who now formed the chief supports of the throne, and the
statesmen who carried on the government of the country in the
name of their Sovereign, were not appreciably the richer for the
change which had placed James upon the throne of England.'
Whatever may have been the value of the victory which had
been won by the King over the Presbyterian clergy, it was at
„. least won by Scottish hands. It was to the coalition
His success J
owing to his between the Crown and the nobility that the success
coalition .
with the of James was owing. I he nobility, having abandoned
the hope of retaining their independence, were eager
to obtain in exchange the direction of the government of the
country. Before such strength as they were able to put forth
when united under the Crown all resistance on the part of the
clergy was impossible, and, with very few exceptions, they
looked with jealous eyes upon the Presbyterian Church. The
eloquence and the moral vigour of the clergy still caused James
to hesitate before proceeding to extremities ; but it is unlikely
that, under any circumstances, he would have long refrained
from putting forth his power, and he certainly was not possessed
of sufficient wisdom to shrink from using for that purpose his
creatures the Bishops.
If, however, the change in James's position did not enable
him to throw any greater weight than he had hitherto done into
the scale of Scottish ecclesiastical politics, it was such as to
make him look upon the contest in which he had been engaged
from a new point of view, and to inspire him with greater re-
solution in dealing with that system of Church government
which was every day assuming darker colours in his eyes. The
example of the English Church was too enticing, and the con-
trast between the Convocation of the Province of Canterbury and
a Scottish General Assembly was too striking, not to make him
eager to free himself from what he considered as the disorderly
scenes which, when he had been in Scotland, had continually
interfered with the success of his most cherished projects.
1 In one or two instances the salaries of Scotch officials were paid out
of the English Exchequer, but these were of no great amount.
i6o5 GENERAL ASSEMBLIES. 303
For a time, however, James seems to have laid aside his
intention Df introducing episcopacy into Scotland. His first in-
juiy, 1604. terference, on a large scale, with the Church after
bih-esum^m ^e crossed the Borders, was his postponement for
moned to a twelvemonth of the General Assembly which had
postponed, been appointed to meet at Aberdeen in July 1604.
It was no mere prorogation that he had in mind. In the fol-
March, 1605. lowing March he wrote that, unless the English Privy
james Council advised him to the contrary, he would never
intends to J
have no can another General Assembly as long as he lived.1
general .
•lies. If the Scottish Church would not submit to the or-
ganization which he believed to be the best, it should have no
organization at all.
But, either from deliberate intention, or from mere careless-
ness, James set aside, upon his own responsibility, the law of
the land. By the Act of 1592, to which the Presbyterian system
owed its legal establishment, it was declared to be lawful for
the Church to hold its General Assemblies at least once a year,
if certain forms which had been complied with on this occasion
were observed. And he had himself, at the last meeting of the
Assembly, given his consent to the observance of this Act for
the future.
Sue h disregard for the rights of the clergy was sure to draw
upon James the suspicions of all who reverenced the existing
titution of the Church In spite of the King's orders, the
!'•■ b ' rj of St. Andrews, winch was always the first to start
forward as the < hampion ot I'rcsbytcrianism, sent three mini: n rs
to Aberdeen, who, finding themselves alone, came away, leaving
behind them a written protest that they were not to blame for
the consequent esof such a brea< h of the laws of God and man.
Though the Pn ibyteryof St. Andrews stood alone in pro-'
• • ;. mist the illegality of the adjournment, there can be
little doubt that the dissatisfaction was widely spread The
representatives of the Church, or, as they were commonly
called, the Commissioners of the General Assembly, had bei n
.sen in accordance with the Ad of the Assembly oi i^oo.
Though they had not been suffered to sit in Parliament, they
1 The King to Cranborne, March 14, 1605, Hatfield MSS. iSS, fol. 90.
3°4 THE POST-NATL ch. vm.
had been treated with respect by the King, and had been con-
sulted on Church affairs, to the exclusion of other ministers. At
a meeting of the ministers held at Perth in October 1604, hard
Oct. 1604. words were spoken both of the Bishops and of these
min'i'iefsa't Commissioners of the Assembly, who were accused of
Perth- using their position to draw all ecclesiastical power into
their hands. The King's declaration that he had no intention
of altering the existing system, which seems to have been in ac-
cordance with his intentions at the time,1 was looked upon with
suspicion. This suspicion was converted into certainty upon
June 7, 1605. the appearance, in June 1605, of a letter addressed
ponenfenTof to tne Presbyteries by the King's Commissioner, Sir
the meeting Alexander Straiton, of Lauriston, and the Commis-
ofthe
Assembly, sioners of the Assembly, informing them that the
King had directed another prorogation of the Assembly, which
they had in the meantime themselves summoned to meet in
July at Aberdeen, on the ground that it was impossible for him
to consider of the matters which would come before them until
the close of the sessions of the two Parliaments, which were to
be engaged in settling the question of the union.2
In committing this renewed breach of the law, James
appears to have been influenced by the belief that, if he
Causes allowed the Assembly to meet, it would denounce
which in- ^e Bishops and overthrow even what little had
f uenced the l
Kl"g- been done by the earlier Assemblies in favour of the
appointment of representatives of the Church in Parliament,3
and when news was brought to the Chancellor of the meeting
of the Assembly, he at once asked ' if there was any Act made
against the Bishops and Commissioners. ' 4 To the Bishops,
indeed, who actually sat in Parliament, the Assembly could
do little harm, as they held their seats by virtue of the
Act of Parliament passed in 1597, and they would not be
affected by a repeal of the Act of the Assembly, by which
1 See p. 76. 2 Calderwood, vi. 271. 3 Forties's Records, 384.
4 This must he the meaning of Spottiswoode's statement, ' that the
King was informed that ministers intended to call in question all the con-
clusions taken in former Assemblies for the episcopal government,' iii. 157.
Forbes, 401.
i6os COMMISSIONERS AND BISHOPS. 305
voters were allowed to appear on behalf of the Church. Indeed,
several new Bishops, and the two Archbishops of St. Andrews
and Glasgow, Gladstanes and Spottiswoode, had been recently
appointed by the King, without the slightest pretence of con-
forming to the mode of election prescribed by the Assembly.
With the Commissioners the case was different. Their tenure
of office was at an end as soon as the next Assembly met, and
by simply refusing to reappoint them, the Assembly would put
an end to the only link which existed for the time between the
King and the Church. That such a course would be adopted
was not in itself unlikely. They were, not unreasonably, regarded
with great dislike by the vehement Presbyterians, as men who
lent the weight of their authority to the support of the Crown
against the clergy. That such a body should be in existence,
in some form or another, was looked upon by James as a neces-
sary part of the system upon which he proposed to govern the
Church. If he could have been sure of having commissioners
always by his side who would give him the support of an ec-
clesiastical authority in keeping the clergy in due submission to
himself, he would probably have been satisfied. But this was
exactly what he never could be sure of. Day by day the epis-
copal system appeared more desirable in his eyes. It was not
an ecclesiastical, it was purely a political question. Commis-
'I a divided allegiance, and might be removed from
offii anytime. Bishops were creatures of his own, and,
by the very necessity of their position, would do his bidding,
whatever it might be.
linst tins attempt of the King to interfere with the
Church all thai ■■■■■ noblest in Scotland revolted. The Presby-
p • ina felt that they had right on their side. It was
impossible thai iu< h a ;< In me as thai of Jamesi ould
be confined i" n tricting tl from interfering with merel]
temporal mattei 1. If then \ emblii 1 were silen< ed, or if they
were only allowed to vote and speak under the eye "I the
Court, there was an end for evi I of 1h.1t fr< edom lor win. h they
hadstruggled 0 manfully. The kingdom ol Christ, ol which
they constituted themselves tin- champions, may haw b
possessed in their eyes of attributes and powers which had their
v iL. I. X
306 THE POST-NAT/. ch. vm.
origin merely in their own imaginations ; but it is impossible
to mistake the real nature of the contest in which they were
engaged. It was one, like that between the medieval Popes
and Emperors, out of which, at the time when it was entered
on, no satisfactory issue was possible. The King, in claiming
to silence the voice of the clergy when it was disagreeable to
himself, was in reality attempting to silence that criticism in
the absence of which all authority becomes stagnant and
corrupt. The clergy, in claiming the right of criticism for
themselves alone, in the name of an assumed Divine right, was
making the independent development of lay society impossible.
The only real cure for the disorder was complete liberty of
speech, and liberty of speech, in the face of the immense power
of the nobility, was only attainable by organization. To crush
that organization, as James was now preparing to do, was to
play into the hands of the nobility, and to weaken, as far as it
was possible, the strongest bulwark of thought over force which
then existed in Scotland.
This time, too, the law of the land was on the side of the
clergy. The Act of 1592 distinctly guaranteed the yearly
meetings of the Assembly. When, therefore, it was known
that the King had ordered the Assembly to be again postponed,
though the majority were unwilling to irritate him by disobey-
ing the command, there were a few who felt that to yield at such
a time would be to betray the cause of the Church and of the
law, from fear of the consequences of resisting an arbitrary and
illegal mandate.
On July 2, 1605, therefore, nineteen ministers assembled at
Aberdeen. A few more would have joined them, if they had
not been led to suppose that the day of meeting had
ihe mTmsters been the 5th instead of the 2nd of the month.1 This
discrepancy in the letter by which the prorogation
had been notified to them has been supposed to have been
owing to a design on the part of the Government to bring them
to Aberdeen in detached bodies.
As soon as this little handful were assembled, Straiton pre-
' Forbes, 386. Caldcrwood, vi. 322.
i6o5 THE ASSEMBLY AT ABERDEEN. 307
sented them with a letter from the lords of the Council. As,
however, the letter was directed ' To the Brethren of
Straiten pre- . . ,
them the Ministry convened in their Assembly in Aber-
ieuer'ofthe deen,' they refused to open it till they had consti-
tuted themselves into a regular Assembly by choosing
a Moderator. Straiton, after suggesting John Forbes of Alford
as a proper person, left the room. As soon as he was gone,
Forbes was unanimously elected, and, the Assembly being con-
stituted, the letter of the Council was opened. It was found to
contain a warning not to offend the King by meeting without
hi: consent, and an order to leave Aberdeen without appointing
any time or place for the next Assembly. To the first point
the ministers were ready to agree. They had no wish to push
matters to extremities by attempting to transact business in
defiance of the King ; but they were by no means willing to
sunender the independence of the Assembly, by leaving in
the King's hands the appointment of its meetings. They did,
however, what they could to avoid anything which looked like
disloyalty. They sent for Straiton, and begged him to name
any day he pleased, however distant, and assured him that they
would willingly submit to his derision. It was onlv after his
Tt„. • refusal to agree to their proposal, that they them-
selves adjourned the Assembly to the first Tuesday
in September. It was then, and not till then, that
the King's Commissioner declared that lu: did not consider
them t" !"■ a lawful Assembly, as the Moderator of the last
Assembly, who OUghf to have opened the meeting, was not
.nt. !!.• followed this up by threatening the ministers with
the treatment <>t rebels it" they did not instantly break up their
11 ring accomplished the object for which they had
,,,-, they left the town without making any resistance. Nine
Other mini fho arrived on the 4th and 5th, also went
home, after signifying their approval of the conduct ot their
bn Minn.'
Eithi t during his last < onvei ation with the mini tei •, oi on
his way home, Straiton remembered that the effect of what had
1 Forks, 3S8 396.
x 2
3o8 THE POST-NATI. CH. VIII.
just passed under his eyes would be to bring to an end the
„ . authority of the Commissioners of the last Assembly,
Sraiton J .. . ■"
falsifies his if the nineteen ministers who had just left Aberdeen
fheTJ1- ° constituted a real Assembly. Accordingly, fearing lest
he should be brought to account for not using more
active measures, he determined to invent a story which would
save him from disgrace. On his return to Edinburgh he
boldly declared that, on the day before the ministers met, he
had published a proclamation at the Market Cross at Aber-
deen, forbidding them to take part in the Assembly.1 To this
falsehood he afterwards added an equally fictitious account of
the forcible exclusion of himself from the room in which the
Assembly was held.
Unfortunately the men who occupied the principal positions
in the Council were not likely to give themselves much trouble
to sift the matter to the bottom. The Chancellor,
Parted by who now bore the title of Earl of Dunfermline, had
HnTanT' formerly, as Alexander Seton, been brought into
Baimenno. frequent collisions with the clergy. Elphinstone, who
had now become Lord Balmerino and President of the Court
of Session as well as Secretary of State, had also old grudges
which he was not unwilling to pay off. They were both Catho-
lics, and as such they wished to do everything in their power to
depress the Presbyterian clergy. They therefore, as soon as
they received a letter from James urging them to take steps
against the ministers, instead of attempting to enlighten his
mind as to the deception which had been practised upon him,
threw themselves readily into the course of persecution which
he pointed out ; 2 although Dunfermline had not long before
assured Forbes that he would be quite content if the Assembly
should act in the precise way in which its proceedings had been
actually carried on, and, when he first saw an account of what
had passed, had approved of all that had been done.
Accordingly, on July 25, the Scottish Council issued a pro-
clamation prohibiting the Assembly from meeting in September.
1 Forbes, 401.
7 The King to Balmerino, July 19. Botfield, Original Letters relating
to Ecclesiastical Affairs (Bannatyne Club), L 355*.
1605 MINISTERS IMPRISONED. 309
On the same day, Forbes was summoned before the Council,
. and on his giving it as his opinion that the meeting at
mem of Aberdeen was a lawful Assembly, he was committed
to custody in Edinburgh Castle, from whence, a
few days later, he was removed to Blackness, where
he was soon joined by John Welsh, one of those who had not
appeared at Aberdeen till after the conclusion of the proceed-
ings, but who was regarded by the Government with suspicion
as a man who was warmly attached to the Presbyterian dis-
cipline.1 Four others were at the same time sent down to
Blackness.
The King was determined to carry out his authority with a
high hand. He sent down a letter which all the Presbyteries
were directed to have read from the pulpit, in which he ex-
plicitly affirmed that the law was not intended to bind him to
rve under all circumstances the privileges by which any
body or estate in the kingdom was allowed to meet or to de-
liberate.'2 This letter the Presbyteries refused to read, but it
was published by authority some months afterwards. He also
directed certain captious questions to be put to the imprisoned
ministers, which were intruded to entangle them into an ad-
mission of the unlawfulness of the Aberdeen Assembly.
( >ii their refusal to do this, they were summoned, with some
of the other minister who shared in their steadfastness, to
. ,k. appear on October 24 before the Council, in order
t<< hear tin- A embly de< lared to be unlawful, and to
receive their own sentence t<>r taking part in it8 On the ap
1 Forbut 403.
2 Calderwood, vi. 426. "As for an instance, "Jami 1 argued, "every
burgh royal hath theii own tinu .<i publii mercata allowed unto them by
the law, and the King'i privilege, bul when the plague happened in any of
!i'l II-. t he, by proclamation, dischargi thi holding ..1
mcrcat at that til ir <>f infection, and yet thereby ili'l no prejui
to their priviligei ?"
* Calderwood, vi. 342. The portion of tli<- Acl of 159a which !
upon the question, nans as follows i " It shall be lawful to the Kirk
ministers, every year at the leaal and oftener, pro rt natd, as occa ion
necessity shall require, to hold an.l keep General Assemblies, providing
that the King's Majesty, or his Commissioners with them to be appointed
310 THE POST-NATI. ch. viil.
pointed day they were brought before the Council, and, after
in vain beseeching the Lords to refer their case to a General
Assembly, gave in a declinature, in which they refused to
acknowledge the jurisdiction of the Council in a question con-
cerning the rights of the Church, and referred their cause to
the next Assembly. James, when he heard of the course which
they had taken, directed that they should be brought to trial
_ _. upon a charge of treason, under the Act of 1=584,
The King .
directs that which pronounced it to be treasonable to refuse to
they shall be , ...... _ .,
brought to submit to the jurisdiction of the Council. In order
to insure a conviction, he sent down the Earl of
Dunbar to use his authority with all who might be inclined to
throw obstacles in the way. The very choice of such a repre-
sentative was significant of the distance from the Scottish clergy
to which James had drifted. Dunbar, who, as Sir George Hume,
had accompanied James to England, was not a Presbyterian,
and it was questionable whether he was even a Protestant.
In the proceedings which followed, it is neither the abstruse
points of law which were so diligently argued, nor even the fate
of the bold and fearless men whose lives and fortunes were at
stake, which principally attracts our attention. The real ques-
tion at issue was, whether the King's Government was worthy
to occupy the position which it had taken up. If the Assem-
blies were not to be allowed to meet and to deliberate inde-
by His Highness, be present at ilk General Assembly before the dissolving
thereof, nominate and appoint time and place when and where the next
General Assembly shall be holden ; and in case neither His Majesty nor
His said Commissioners be present for the time in that town where the said
General Assembly is holden, then, and in that case, it shall be lesum to
the said General Assembly by themselves to nominate and appoint time
and place where the next General Assembly of the Kirk shall be kept and
holden, as they have been in use to do these times by-past." (Acts 0/ Pari.
Scot/, iii. 541.) It is evident that this Act is not without ambiguity. The
case when, as happened in Aberdeen, the Commissioner was in the town,
but refused to name a place and time, is not provided for. But the King
took up ground which was plainly untenable when he spoke of the proro-
gation of 1604 as being one which the ministers were bound to atterrd to,
as if it had been in accordance with the Act of 1592. The answer was, of
course, that it had not been declared by the King or Commissioner present
in an Assembly. — Forbes, Records, 452.
1606 TRIAL OF THE SIX MINISTERS. 311
pendently of the authority of the State, what was to be substi-
tuted for them ? "Was their claim of Divine right to be met by
calm deliberation, and by unswerving justice, allowing liberty
of action wherever liberty was possible ; or by an exhibition of
petty intrigues resting upon the support of brute force? In
other words, did James appear as the standard-bearer of law
and order against ecclesiastical anarchy, or was he clothing,
ignorantly or knowingly, his own arbitrary will in the forms of
political wisdom? In. reality it was James himself who was on
his trial, not the prisoners at the bar.
The proceedings did not commence in a very promising
manner. It was necessary to remove the place of trial from
l6n6 Edinburgh to Linlithgow, lest the Chancellor and his
t^be'at'1 associates should be unable to carry out their purpose
Linlithgow. jn tne face of a population which sympathised strongly
with the ministers.1 On the morning of January 10, the six
who were confined at Blackness were hurried before the Coun-
cil at Linlithgow, and, after all efforts had been made in vain
to induce them to withdraw their declinature, were ordered to
prepare for trial.
Criminal trials in England were not to he regarded at this
period as models of justice, but it is certain that the most sub-
servient judge who had ever sat upon the English bench would
have been sho< I'd at tin- manner in which preparations were
made for procuring a verdict against the ministers. Dunbar
m by tampering with the judges, lie plainly told them
that if they did what he called their duty, they mighl expect to
enjoy the favour of the King ; but that, on the other hand, if
they failed in satisfying him, certain disgrace and punishment
them, 1 te then addressi d himself to pai 1
a jury, knowing well th.it unless extraord 1 arj pr< 1 autions ■•
taken he would fail in his objo 1. At last he found fifteen mi n
amongst his own friends and i tion who, as he hoped, would
.e his purpose. To make everything sure, he finally filled
the town with his followers, who would he ready to prevent any
attempt to rescue the prisoners, ami who might also serve the
1 Vot\ es, Records, 452.
3i2 THE POST-NATI. ch. vm.
purpose of overawing the Court, in case that, even constituted
as it was, it might by some chance show a spirit of indepen-
dence.1 As if this were not enough, it was arranged that the
Lords of the Council themselves, whose jurisdiction was im-
peached, should sit as assessors on the Court, to assist in judging
their own case.
The question of law was argued before the jury were ad-
mitted into court. The pleadings turned upon purely legal
_ . . . points, as to the interpretation of words in certain
Decision of * \ .
the question Acts of Parliament, and upon the extent to which the
Act of 1584 was repealed by the Act of 1592. In
these discussions there is no interest whatever. They barely
touch upon the great questions at issue, and there can be no
doubt that the decision which was finally given against the
prisoners had been settled beforehand.
When this part of the trial had been brought to a conclu-
sion, the jury was admitted. As soon as they appeared, they
The jury were addressed by Sir Thomas Hamilton, the Lord
admitted. Advocate. He told them that it had been already
settled by the court that the declinature of members was
treasonable, and that all that was left to the jury was to find
whether the declinature had proceeded from the prisoners or
not. He assured them that the document which he produced
was in the handwriting of the ministers ; there could therefore
be no difficulty in bringing in the verdict for which he asked.
He concluded by telling the jury that if they acquitted the
prisoners they must expect to be called in question for their
wilful error, by which their own lives and property would be
endangered.
In spite of the opposition of the prisoner's counsel, the jury
were being sent out of court to consider the verdict, when
Forbes's Forbes asked to be allowed to address them in the
name of his brethren. Having obtained permission
he went over the whole story of his supposed offence in words
which must have gone to the hearts of all who were not utterly
deaf to the voice of a true man speaking for his life. After
' Sir T. Hamilton to the King, Dalrymple's Memorials, 1.
1606 TRIAL OF THE SIX MINISTERS. 3*3
protesting that Straiton's story of the proclamation at the
Market Cross of Aberdeen was utterly false from beginning to
end, he showed that the direction of the Council's letter by
which the ministers assembled at Aberdeen were required to
disperse, was enough to prove that that meeting was regarded
as a lawful Assembly by the very Council which had afterwards
called them to account. The only point in which the ministers
had been disobedient was in refusing to dissolve the Assembly
without appointing time or place for the next meeting. In
doing this he asserted that they had acted in accordance with
the laws of the kingdom as well as of the Church. The truth
was that they were brought into danger in order to support the
pretensions of the Commissioners of the Assembly, who were
labouring to introduce the Romish hierarchy in place of the
Church and Kingdom of Christ. He reminded the jurors that
they had all of them subscribed to the confession of faith, and
had sworn to maintain the discipline of the Church, and he ad-
jured them to judge on that day as they would be judged when
they were called to render an account to God of the oath which
they had sworn.
After some altercation between Forbes and the Lord Advo-
cate, Welsh addressed the jury. He spoke even more strongly
Wc, than Forbes had done of the sole right of the Church
:ech- to judge of ecclesiastical questions. As soon as he
had finished, Hamilton told the jury that the)' ought not to be
moved by what they had just heard, and, after admonishing
them to perform their duty, he concluded by again threatening
them with punishment if they refused to find a verdict against
tin- pri loners. On the conclusion of this address, Forbes read
a pa "'it of tin- covenant in which King and people had
once united to protest their devotion to the Protestant faith;
and thm tiirnm to Dunbar requested him to remind the King
of the punishment which had overtaken Saul lor his breach of
the covenant which hid been made with the Gibeonites, and to
warn him lest a similar judgment should befall him and hispo
terity if he broke that covenant to whi« h he had sworn. After
this, as the other prisoners declared it to be unnecessary to add
314 THE POST-NATI. ch. vm.
anything to that which had been already said, the jury were
ordered to retire to consider their verdict.
Then was seen the effect which earnest words can have
even upon men who have been brought together for the express
. reason that they were unlikely to sympathise with
consider the prisoners. The jury, packed as it had been,
began to doubt what the verdict was to be. One of
them begged that some one else might be substituted in his
place. Another asked for more information on the point at
issue. A third begged for delay. When all these requests had
been refused, they left the court. As soon as they had met
together, it was found that they were inclined to brave all
threats and to acquit the prisoners. The foreman of the jury,
Stewart of Craighall, being himself liable to the penalties of
the law, did not dare to oppose the will of the Council. He
accordingly, as soon as he found what was the opinion of
the majority, went back into the court, together with the
Lord Justice Clerk, who had been illegally present in the
jury room, and warned the judges what was likely to be the
result. The Councillors, in order to save their credit, made
one more attempt to persuade the prisoners to withdraw their
declinature. Having failed to produce any effect, they not
only tried what could be done b) again threatening the jury, but
they sent some of their number in to assure them that they
would do no harm to the prisoners by convicting them, as the
King had no intention of pushing matters to extremes, and
only wished to have the credit of a verdict on his side, in order
to proceed to bring about a pacification with greater likelihood
of success. Influenced by these threats and promises, nine
The prison- out of the fifteen gave way, and the verdict of guilty
nounced was pronounced by the majority which, according to
guilty. the law of Scotland, was sufficient for the purpose.
The sentence was deferred till the King's pleasure should be
known.1
Such a victory was equivalent to a defeat. If the power of
the King was established too firmly by means of his coalition
1 Forbes, Records, 455-496.
1606 BAMSHMEXT OF THE SIX MINISTERS. 315
with the nobility to make it likely that any actual danger
Effect of was t0 De apprehended, he had at least notified to
all who cared for honesty and truthfulness that it
was only by falsehood and trickery that he had succeeded in
establishing his claims. From henceforward it would be un-
necessary to go into any elaborate argument in favour of the
independence of the Church Courts. It would be sufficient to
point to the trial at Linlithgow, and to ask whether that was
the kind of justice which was so much better than that which
was dispensed in the Ecclesiastical Courts. So strong was the
general feeling on the subject, that when James wrote to the
Council pressing them to bring to a trial the remaining ministers
who had also signed the declinature, he received a reply in-
forming him that it was very improbable that such a course
would be attended with any good result, and recommending
him to drop the prosecution in order to avoid an acquittal.1
In the whole course of James's reign there is not one of his
actions which brings out so distinctly the very worst side of his
character. There can be no doubt that he really believed that
he was justified in what he was doing, and that he blinded him-
self to the radical injustice of his proceedings, and to the
8Candal0US means by which his objects were effected. He
in by fancying that the ministers had acted illegally, and
then read every law or prim iple to whi< h they appealed through
the coloured spr< t;u les of his own feelings and interests. To any
kn< of the true solution of the really diffi< lilt questii
whi« h were involved in the dispute, he never had the slightest |
tensions, e» epting in his own eyes and in those of his courtiers.
The six ministers remained for some months in prison.
At last, m ( )< tolu-r, they were 1 ondemned to perpetual banish-
,, . , in- m. As they went flown to the boat, at Leith,
of thesis winch v. • iiry them away in the darkness of the
ni^ht, the people, who crowded down to the beach
to see them go, heard them singing the twenty-third Psalm.
They had passed through the valley of the shadow of death,
and had feared no evil. In prison and in banishment He who
' Botflcld, Original Letters, i. 360* ; and note to p. 363*.
3i6 THE POST-NATI. CH. vm.
had been their shepherd suffered them not to want. They,
too, deserve the name of Pilgrim Fathers. Earthly hope they
had none ; they went not forth to found an empire beyond the
seas ; they went forth to spend the last days of their weary pil-
grimage in foreign lands. But their work was not there : it
was in the hearts of their Scottish countrymen, to whom .they had
at the peril of their lives borne testimony to the truth. They
had done their part to build up the Church and nation, which
neither James nor his Council would be able to enslave for ever.
Eight other ministers, who also refused to retract
Imprison- °
mentofthe their declinature, were exiled to various places on
the coast and islands of Scotland.1
The Linlithgow trial had brought clearly before the eyes of
the nation the real worth of the judicial institutions of the
country. It remained to be seen whether its legislative body
was any more fit to call the General Assembly to account.
Whatever may have been the intentions of the King during the
first years of his reign in England, there can be no doubt that
he was now bent upon bringing the clergy under his feet by
restoring to the Bishops their jurisdiction. He accordingly
„,, _ ,. summoned a Parliament to meet at Perth in July, in
TheParha- , J ■"
mentat order to pass an Act for the restitution to the
Bishops of the property of their sees which had been
formally annexed to the Crown. It was notorious that many
of the nobility looked askance upon the new Bishops. But
their opposition was not of a nature to hold out against those
arguments which the Government was able to use. With the
conscientious hatred of Episcopacy which animated the Presby-
terians, they had nothing in common ; all that they felt was a
mere dislike of the rise of an order which might vie in wealth
and influence with themselves. With such men as these it was
easy to strike a bargain. Let them assent to the repeal of the
Act of Annexation, by which so much of the Church land had
been declared to be Crown property, and if the King were
allowed to use some of it to endow his new Bishops, he would
carve out of it no less than seventeen temporal lordships for
1 Acts of the Privy Council, Botfield, Original Letters^ i. 368*.
1606 THE ROYAL SUPREMACY IN SCOTLAND. 317
the nobility.1 Such arguments as these were unanswerable
The Parliament speedily passed the Acts which gave per-
mission for the change, and added another, declaring that the
King's authority was supreme ' over all estates, persons, and
causes whatsoever.'2
The position occupied by James's Bishops was unique in
the history of Episcopacy. There have been instances in which
Position of laymen have borne the title of Bishop, and there
the Bishops. naye ueen instances in which Bishops have passed
gradually from the exercise of purely spiritual functions to the
enjoyment of temporal jurisdiction ; but nowhere, excepting in
Scotland, has a class of ministers existed who were clothed in
all the outward pomp and importance of temporal lordships,
whilst they were without any ecclesiastical authority what-
ever. Such a state of things was too ridiculous to continue
long. Any attempt to rule the Church by means of the sub-
servient courts of law, and the half-careless, half-corrupt
Parliaments, was certain in the long run to prove a failure.
Everything tended to make James more determined to give
real authority to his bishops, or, in other words, to himself.
But if this was to be accomplished, James shrank from
carrying out his purpose by a simple act of authority. To do
him justice, when a scheme of this kind came into
James de- J '
tcrmincsto his head, he always contrived to persuade himsell
Rive them .
.-.I that it was impossible for anyone to oppose it ex-
( epting from fa< tious or interested motives. Just as
to the end of his life he continued to believe thai the English
House of Commons misrepresented the loyal feelings of the
nation, he now belli ved thai the dislike of Bishops was con-
fined to a few turbulent r. of all authority. And such
his opinion of the justice of Ins cause and ol the force
of his own arguments, that he flattered himself with the
notion that even those who had hitherto resisted his wi
must give way if he could once be brought f;i< e to t,i. e with
them.
1 M(lvill<\ Diary, 640. Council to James, July 4, 1O06, A/c/ios Pa/crs,
(Abbotsford Club), 15.
2 Acts of Pari. Scotl. iv. 280.
3i 8 THE POST-NAIL ch. vm.
In a proclamation issued in the preceding autumn,1 the
King had declared that he intended to make no alteration in
l6o5 the government of the Church, excepting with the
Sept. 26. advice 0f those whom he called the wisest and best
of the clergy ; and he accordingly directed that a General
1606. Assembly should be held at Dundee in July. In
put'to'the February he sent round five questions to all the
Synods. Synods, intended to induce them to give their assent
to an acknowledgment of the King's authority in calling the
Assemblies, and to promise to support the Commissioners,
leaving untouched the position of the Bishops.2 Failing to ob-
tain any satisfactory answer, he wrote to eight of the principal
ministers still remaining at liberty, in the number of whom both
Andrew Melville and his nephew James were included, direct-
ing them to present themselves in London on September 15, in
order to discuss the question at issue between the ministers and
the Crown. In spite of their disinclination to enter upon a dis-
cussion which they knew to be useless, they consented to comply
with the request. Their first conference with the King was
held on September 22, in the presence of several members of
the Scottish Council, and of some of the Bishops and other
ministers who were favourable to the claims of the King.
They found that they were required, as a pre-
Conference ,.. . .. iiri
at n.,mpton liminary step, to give an opinion on the lawfulness
of the Assembly at Aberdeen. As anyone but
James would have foreseen, it was to no purpose that argu-
ments were addressed to them to prove the correctness of
the King's view of the case, or that they were called upon
to listen, day after day, to polemical sermons from the most
distinguished preachers of the Church of England. They
refused to part with their conviction on this point, or to allow
that there was any possible way of pacifying the Church of
Scotland, excepting by the convocation of a free General
Assembly. Upon discovering that his logic had been ex-
pended upon them in vain, James reported to the disgraceful
1 Caldcrwood, vi. 338.
- Ibid., vi. 391-396. The second of the two copies given is probably
the authentic one. Compare the notices of it at pp. 477, 571.
?5o6 ANDREW MELVILLE'S BANISHMENT. 319
expedient of ordering the men who had come up to England
on the faith of his invitation, to be committed to custody. It
was not long before a circumstance occurred which gave him
an excuse for severer measures. An epigram was put into his
Melville's hands which had been written by Andrew Melville,
verses. on w]iat seemed to him the Popish ceremonies prac-
tised in the King's Chapel at one of the services which he had
been compelled to attend.1 The verses had not been put in
circulation, nor was it intended that they should be ; but
James, glad of an opportunity of revenging himself upon the
man whom he detested, ordered him to be brought
N)V. 30. °
HUim- before the Privy Council. When there, Melville,
amidst the taunting words of the members of this
unsympathising tribunal, with a not unnatural ebullition of
impatience, turned fiercely upon Bancroft who had charged
him with something very like treason, and reminding him of
all his real and supposed faults, ended his invective by tel-
ling him, as he shook one of his lawn sleeves, that these wire
Romish rags, and part of the mark of the beast. Su< h a scene
had never before occurred in the decorous Council Chamber
at Whitehall, and the Lords were not likely to leave it un-
noticed. He was committed by them to the custody of the
Dean of St. Paul's, from whence he was, after another ex-
amination, transferred to the Tower. There he remained a
and banish- prisoner for four years, till he was allowed to leave
1 !. md at tl.'- reque il <<i tin- I Mike of Bouillon, in
whose University at Sedan lie passed the remaining years of
In . lit.- .1 Profi or of Divinity. His nephew, whose
1 rime was his refusal to acknowledge the King's
I upremai v, was senl into confinement
at N The six other ministers were relegated to dif-
ferent 1 Scotland.
1 "Cur slant clausi Anglu libri duo n-^ia in ara,
I.umina exca duo, pollubl
Num tensutn culturnque I Anglu clausum
Lumine irde sepulta sufl ?
Romano an rim dum n instruit a ram,
Purpuream pingit religiosa lupam?"
32o THE POST-NATI. ch. vm.
The cycle of injustice was now complete. In the course of
one short year the judicature, the Parliament, and the King
had proved to demonstration that they were not in a position to
demand of the Church the surrender of her independence. In
theory, the view taken by James in protesting against the claim
of the clergy to exclusive privileges approached more nearly to
those which arc very generally accepted in our own day, than
do those which were put forward by Melville and Forbes. But
that which is yielded to the solemn voice of the law may well
be refused to the wilfulness of arbitrary power.
As yet, James did not venture upon proposing to introduce
a copy of the English Episcopacy into Scotland ; but he deter-
mined to make an effort to bring the Bishops whom
of Consul" he had nominated into some connection with the
Moderators. wor]-mg machinery of the Church. There can be no
doubt that, in detaining the eight ministers in England, he had
been as much influenced by the hope of depriving the Scotch
clergy of their support, as by the annoyance which he felt at
their pertinacious resistance. But even at a time when no less
than twenty-two of the leading ministers had been driven away
from the scenes of their labours, he did not venture to summon
a freely chosen Assembly, with the intention of asking it to sur-
render into the hands of the Bishops the least fraction of the
powers which had hitherto been possessed by the Presbyteries
and Assemblies of the Church. He had, in consequence, again
prorogued the Assembly, which was to have met in the course
of the summer.
Still, however, some means must be taken to cloak the
usurpation which he meditated. He issued summonses to the
various Presbyteries, calling upon them to send to
gowCon- Linlithgow certain ministers who were nominated by
vention. himself, in order that they might confer with some
of the nobility and of the officers of state, on the best means
to repress the progress of Popery, and that they might deter-
mine upon the means which were to be taken for the preserva-
tion of the peace of the Church. On December 13, 1606, this
assembly of nominees met, according to the King's directions ;
and though the members at first showed some signs of inde-
!6o6 CONSTANT MODERATORS. 321
pendence, they were in the end, by the skilful management of
the Earl of Dunbar, brought to agree to all that was proposed
to them. The chief concession obtained was, that in order
that there might be an official always ready to counteract the
designs of the Catholics, a ' Constant Moderator,' who might
be entrusted with this permanent duty, should be substituted
in all the Presbyteries for the Moderators who had hitherto
been elected at each meeting. In the same way the Synods, or
Provincial Assemblies, were also to be provided with permanent
M /derators. Whenever a vacancy occurred, the Moderators
of the Presbyteries were to be chosen by the Synod to which
the Presbytery belonged. The Synod was itself to be presided
over by any Bishop who might be acting as Moderator of any
of the Presbyteries within its bounds, and it was only to be
allowed to elect its own Moderator in cases where no Bisl
was thus to be obtained. The Moderators, however, were to
be liable to censure, and even to deprivation, in the Church
courts. This arrangement, such as it was, was not to come
into action at once. The first list of Moderators of all the
Presbyteries in Scotland was drawn up by the Linlithgow
Convention, and in it were to be found the names of all the
Bishops for the Presbyteries in which they resided.1
ThU A< t left, indeed, the whole machinery of Presby-
terianism in full action. Put it accustomed the clergy to
the nominees of the Crown presiding in their courts, and mi
easily lead the way to fresh encroachments. It was bar
likely, however, that the decisions of this irregular Convention
would be universally accepted as equal in authority to those of
a free Assembly. It was soon found that resistance was to be
expected, and the determination to resist was strengthened
I,-. .1 report whi' li v. 1 rail) < iM ulated, to the effect that the
Act of the Convention had been surreptitiously altered by the
King, a report which gained increased credence from th< cir-
cumstance that some oi tin- ministers had in vain attempt id to
gain a sight of the original do< ument
James, however, determined to <arry his scheme into efl I
1 Calilcnvco /, vi. 601.
VOL. I. Y
322 THE POST-NATI. CH. VIII.
in spite of all opposition. On January 17, 1607, an order was
issued to all the Presbyteries, admonishing them to
1607.
TheModera accept the Moderators on pain of being declared
onrtherCed guilty of rebellion. The same threat was held over
church. the head of those Moderators who might be unwill-
ing to accept the post to which they had been appointed. Some
gave way before superior force, but others refused to obey the
command. In the Synods the resistance was still stronger, as
it was believed that the order to admit the Bishops as Mode-
rators over these large assemblies had been improperly added
to the Acts of the Convention. One Synod only, that of Angus,
submitted at once to the change. It was only after a prolonged
resistance that the others gave way to commands which they
knew themselves to be unable to resist.
James had thus secured most of the objects at which he
aimed. Driven, by the pertinacity of the ministers who had
Su« 1 ess of met at Aberdeen, to abandon his scheme of leaving
the King. trie Scottish Church without any organization at all,
he had fallen back on his older plan of giving it an organiza-
tion which would to a great extent subject it to his own con-
trol. Presbyteries and Synods and General Assemblies were
to meet as in the olden days, but they would meet under the
1 'residence of Moderators appointed by himself, and in the
Synods that Moderator would almost always be a person who
bore the name of Bishop. It was not likely that James would
stop here, and he had little more to do to give to the Bishops
the presidency by right. Yet even what he had done had been
enough to put an end to that collision between the ecclesias-
tical and the civil powers which had threatened danger to the
State.
Unhappily the means to which James owed his victory
brought discredit upon the cause in which he was engaged.
Causes of There had been no little chicanery in his interpreta-
his success. tion or evasion of the law, and the fact that his main
supporters, Dunfermline and Balmerino, were Catholics, un-
doubtedly injured him in the estimation of the Protestants of
Scotland. Yet, after every admission is made, it is undeniable
that, ever since the tumult in Edinburgh in 1596, there had
1607 CAUSES OF JAMES'S SUCCESS. 323
been a considerable want of animation on the part of those
classes on whom the Presbyterian clergy depended for support.
What opposition there had been, came almost entirely from the
ministers themselves. Not only were the great nobles, with one
or two exceptions, banded together against them as one man,
but the lesser gentry, and even the boroughs, were lukewarm in
their cause.
The explanation of this change of feeling is not very difficult
to find. In the first place the cause of Presbyterianism was no
longer connected with resistance to foreign interference, with
regard to which Scotchmen have at all times been so sensitive.
In the early part of James's reign the ministers could appeal
to the nation against the intrigues of France. At a later
period, it was the dread of a Spanish invasion which gave point
to their invectives against the northern earls. But with Huntly's
defeat, in 1595, all this was at an end. If for a short time it
was still supposed that Huntly and Errol were likely to renew
their invitations to the Spanish Court, all suspicions of such
behaviour on their part quickly died away, and the question
between the King and the clergy could be treated as a mere
matter of internal policy with which national prejudices had
nothing whatever to do.
Nor wen- the King's innovations ofsuch a nature as to pro
yoke opposition from the ordinary members of Scottish congre
,ns. same sermons were likely i>> Ik- preached by
same men, whether the General A embly or the King
the upper hand. The proceedings of the Kirk-sessions were
<arriirl on exactly as before. There was, above all, nothing
which addressed the eye in the changes which had been brou
about Men who would have been horroi truck at such
alterati those which were afterwards carried out in Eng
land by the authority of Laud, looked 011 with indiffi i' in ■
long as they saw tip- old familiar servu es conducted as 1 1 1 • \
had been .:■ 1 u itomed to jee thi m 1 ondu< ted in their boyhood.
To superficial obsi and in no 01 country is their
number a limited one the question . was merely one of
jurisdw tion, by which the integrity of the Gospel was not in any
way affected.
V 2
324 THE POST-NATI. CH. VIII.
The real evil lay rather in that which might be done, than
in that which had actually taken place. Neither the General
Assembly nor the Parliament could claim to be a fair represen-
tation of the Scottish nation, because that nation was too deeply
cleft asunder to have any real representation at all. Under
such circumstances, the King was the sole representative of
unity. As long as he acted as a reconciler he might go on his
path unmolested, but if he, or his successor, should at any time
cease to be content with keeping the peace, and should proceed
to try the temper of the people by the introduction of changes in
their mode of worship, he might excite an opposition which he
would find it hard to control. If a national feeling were aroused
against him, it would find an outlet either in the Assembly or in
Parliament — perhaps in both combined.
It is not unlikely that these proceedings in Scotland may
have had some effect upon the minds of the members of the
English House of Commons, when they were called
Nov. 18. on to take the first steps in drawing closer the bonds
theeEngii°sh of union with a country in which the forms of justice
Parliament. were s0 aDUsed as they had been in the condemna-
tion of Forbes and his brother ministers. The session which
opened on November 18, 1606, was understood to be devoted
to the consideration of the proposals which had been made by
the Commissioners appointed from both countries. Those
proposals had been framed with a due regard for the
iVP°rt •,-,-• r 1 • ^ r ,
Com- susceptibilities of the two nations. On two of them
but little difference of opinion was likely to arise.
It could hardly be doubted that it was expedient
to repeal those laws by which either country had taken pre-
cautions against hostile attacks from the other, or that some
arrangement ought to be made for the mutual extradition of
criminals.
The other two points were far more likely to give rise to
opposition. The most essential measures by which the pros-
perity of the two kingdoms could be insured, were the estab-
lishment of freedom of commercial intercourse between them,
and the naturalisation in each of them of the natives of the
other.
1606 FREE TRADE AND NATURALISATION. 325
After mature deliberation, the Commissioners had deter-
mined to recommend that certain productions of each country
Commercial should not be allowed to be exported to the other,
union. The English were afraid of a rise in the price of
cloth, if their sheep-farmers were permitted to send their wool
to be manufactured in Scotland ; and the Scotch were equally
alarmed at the prospect of high prices for meat, if their cattle
could be driven across the Tweed to a more profitable market
than Edinburgh or Perth could offer. With these and two or
three other exceptions, the whole commerce of the two coun-
tries was to be placed on an equal footing. The Scotchman was
to be allowed to sell his goods in London as freely as he could
in Edinburgh ; and he was to be permitted to take part in those
commercial enterprises upon which so much of the prosperity
of England was already founded. A similar liberty was to be
granted to Englishmen in Scotland ; though, for the present, at
least, its value would be merely nominal.
A commercial union of this description made it necessary
to take into consideration the question of naturalisation. Un-
N.-iniraiisa. fortunately, it was impossible to avoid touching upon
political difficulties. The best course would have
rl to have naturalised entirely, in each kingdom, all persons
burn in the other, but to have incapacitated them, at least lor
rtain time, from holding any high official position. There
lid have been less difficulty in drawing up a measure of this
kind, as, of the six Scotchmen who had been sworn into the
glish Privy Council soon after the accession of James, all
had ba a already naturalised by Act of Parliament,1
and might fairly have been regarded as 1 KO ptions from the rule
whi< h w.i . to be proposed
•on was, however, complicated by a distinction
drawn by the legal authorities who were consulted3 by the
1 sir Jama Klphinstone (afterwards Lord Balmerino), the I>uke of
Lennox, tin- Earl of Mar, Sir George Hume (afterwards Earl of Dunbar),
and Lord Kinlos^, were naturalised in the first « i m of the reign.
2 Opinions of the law officei of the ( rown, Nov. 16, 1604,6' /'. Donh
x. 75. la this opinion Popham, Fleming, and <'.,kc concum
3=6 THE POST-NAT/. ch. vui.
Commissioners. They declared that by the common law of
England, the Post-nati (as those who were horn in .Scotland
after the accession of James were technically called) were as
little to be regarded as aliens as if they had been born in Exeter
or York. They were born within the King's allegiance, and they
must be regarded as his subjects as far as his dominions ex-
tended. The Ante-nati, or those born before the King's acces-
sion, on the other hand, did not obtain this privilege. The
Commissioners, therefore, proposed a declaratory Act pro-
nouncing the Post-nati, in either kingdom, to be possessed of
all the privileges of natives of the other. They also advised
that the same rights should be communicated to the Ante-nati
by statute. The question of the reservation of the high offices
of state was beset with still greater difficulties. If the Commis-
sioners had been left to themselves, they would probably have
recommended that the Ante-nati should be incapacitated from
holding these dignities, whilst the Post-nati should be entitled
to accept them. This would, at all events, have thrown back
the difficulty for at least twenty years. By that time the chief
reasons for apprehending evil consequences from the measure
would have ceased to exist. After twenty years of close com-
mercial intercourse, the two peoples would have become assimi-
lated to one another ; the generation which had been growing
up in Scotland since 1603 would be strangers to James, and
would be still greater strangers to his successor. By that time
the favourites of the Sovereign would be Englishmen. If it
would be still possible for the King to swamp the House of
Lords and the public offices with Scotchmen, who might be
supposed to feel no especial regard for the English Constitu-
tion, it would also be possible for him to find Englishmen who
would be equally ready to support him in his claims. In fact,
the event proved that the danger which threatened the Consti-
tution did not arise from the possible extension of the area
from which officials could be selected, but from the want of
control which Parliament was able to exercise over the officials
after their selection by the King. When Charles I. wished to
find a Strafford or a Laud, it was not necessary for him to go
in sear h of him beyond the Tweed.
1606 WERE THE ANTE-XATI TO HOLD OFFICES? 327
It is possible that if the Commissioners had followed their
own judgment they might have seen their recommendations pass
into law, in spite of the prejudices by which they were certain to
be assailed in the House of Commons. But, unfortunately, in
order to carry out this proposal, it was necessary to interfere with
one of the prerogatives of the Crown ; and when James heard
that his prerogative was to be touched, he was sure to take alarm,
and to do battle for a shadow even more strenuously than he was
ready to contend for the substance. In this case the difficulty
lay in the acknowledged right of the Crown to issue letters of
denization to aliens, by which all the rights of naturalisation
might be conferred, e.v epting that of inheriting landed property
: '.ngland. Although, however, a denizen might not inherit
land, he was < apable of holding it by grant or purchase, and of
transmitting it to his descendants. He was also capable of
holding all offii es underthe Crown. James protested, no doubt
with perfect sincerity at the time, that he had no desire ' to confer
any office of the Crown, anyoffi< e of judi< ature, plai e, voice, or
■ e in Parliament, of either kingdom, upon the subjects of
the Other born before the decease of Elizabeth.' ' Under these
umstanci l,a sensible man would have gladly allowed a ( lause
tO be inserted, depriving him of the power of granting such offices
by letters of denization to the Ante nati. Even then he would
have been able to cm i< h any new Scottish favourites by gifts
nid to those who were already naturalised he might
much moie land as he pleased. Unluckily, fame
led thai he would bi disgraced by iu< h an attack upon
hi^ pren 1 I ■ pi in whii h he adopted had, at lea t.
the merit of ingenuity : hi d to the proposal of the Com
mi refuse to the Knte nati the righl of holding offii 1
but he also required that the future A< t of naturalisation
should contain a distim 1 n 1 ognition ol hi 1 righl to 1 lue li tl
denization, and thus to break through those \< \ 5 restri< tions
which the Hoi to be asked to impose \ though at the
same time he gave a promise thai he would make no use oi thi \
it of whi< h he was 50 1 ager to obtain the a< knowledgment,
1 '.J. i. 323. The King to Crnnlinrne, Nov. 24, 1604, S, /'. Doiu,
x. 40. i.
32S THE POST-NATI. CH. vm.
It is strange that he did not foresee that the House of Commons
would regard such a proposal as this with indignation, and
would look upon it as an attempt to delude them with specious
words.
James, unfortunately, was incapable of bridling his tongue,
When he addressed the Houses on the first day of the session,
The King's ne entered upon a long attack upon the conduct of
speech. those who had prepared the Petition of Grievances at
the end of the last session, even though he acknowledged that he
had found some of the requests made to be worthy of attention
In treating of the Union he was no less injudicious. On this
question he was far in advance of the average English opinion.
He foresaw the benefits which would accrue to both nations
from a complete amalgamation, and he was not unnaturally
impatient of the conservative timidity of the Commons, which
dreaded each step into the unknown. Yet he would have been
far more likely to secure his immediate object if he had been
less conspicuously open, and had avoided showing to the
world his eagerness for a far closer amalgamation than that to
which the assent of Parliament was now invited. "Therefore,
now," he said, after recounting the benefits to be expected,
" let that which hath been sought so much, and so lcng, and
so often, by blood, and by fire, and by the sword, now it is
brought and wrought by the hand of God, be embraced and
received by a hallelujah ; and let it be as Wales was, and as all
the Heptarchy was, united to England, as the principal J and
let all at last be compounded and united into one kingdom.
And since the crown, the sceptre, and justice, and law, and all
is resident and reposed here, there can be no fear to this nation,
but that they shall ever continue continual friends ; and shall
ever ackr owledge one Church and one king, and be joined in
a perpetual marriage, for the peace and prosperity of both
nations, and for the honour of their King."
We can appreciate the prescience of such words now.
When they were uttered, they must have raised strange ques-
tionings in the minds of the hearers. What, they may well
have asked, was this one law and one Church in which they
were invited to participate ? Were they not asked to abandon
l5o6 OPPOSITION OF THE MERCHANTS. 329
some of the rights of Englishmen, and, what was quite as much
to the point, to sacrifice some of the interests of Englishmen ?
So preoccupied were the Commons with the question of the
Union, that the King's answer to their grievances was allowed
Nov. 19. to pass unchallenged. On the 21st the Report
The an^cr 0f tjlc Commissioners of the Union was read. At
to the
gviesances. once a storm of opposition arose amongst the
English merchants aganst the proposal to set free the com-
merce of the two countries. The merchants declared that they
would certainly be ruined by the competition with which they
were threatened. Scotchmen would come in and
commercial out of England ; they would always be in the way
when they wanted to drive a bargain ; but as soon
as the time came round when taxes and subsidies were to be
demanded, they would slip over the border, leaving the burden
upon the shoulders of their English rivals. There were quite
enough Englishmen engaged in the trading companies, and it
was most undesirable that Scotchmen should rob them of their
livelihood. To these and similar complaints the Scottish mer-
chants had no difficulty in replying. They received the support
of Salisbury, who, if he did not regard the Union with any
great enthusiasm, had, at all events, too much sense to be
led away by the fallacies by which it was assailed.1
The feeling of the merchants found expression in the House
of Commons. That House agreed, as a matter of course, to
abolish the hostile laws ; but though they were ready enough
to protest against the monopoly of the trading companies, they
looked with prejudiced eyes upon the principle of commercial
dom when it teemed to nil against themselves. On De-
ber 17. a cene occurred at a conference with the Lords
whi< h augured ill for the success of the measure. The
staid Lord Chancellor scolded the merchants for the pe-
tition which they had drawn up against the Union. Fuller,
in his rash, headlong way, said that the Scotch were pedlers
rather than men hant& For this gpe» h he was taken to task
by the I.okU, v.ho told the Common, that, if they did not
1 Objection-* <>( the Merchants of London, with Answers by Sail ibury
anil the Sottish Merchants, S. /'. Dom. xxiv. 3, 4, 5.
33o THE POST-NA TI. ch. vin.
yield with a good grace, the King would take the matter in
hand, and would carry out the Union by his own authority.
Under these circumstances the House gave way, so far as to
accept certain starting-points which might serve for the heads
of a future Bill, though it refused to give to them its formal ad-
hesion.1 Upon this Parliament was adjourned to February 10.
A few days after the reassembling of the House, Sir Chris-
topher Pigott, who had been chosen to succeed to the vacancy
Feb. 13. in the representation of Buckinghamshire caused by
ShePpiWs tne resignation of Sir Francis Goodwin, poured forth
speech. a torrent of abuse against the whole Scottish nation.
He said that they were beggars, rebels, and traitors. There
had not been a single King of Scotland who had not been
murdered by his subjects. It was as reasonable to unite Scot-
land and England as it would be to place a prisoner at the bar
upon an equal footing with a judge upon the bench.2 No
expression of displeasure was heard, and though this silence is
attributed in the journals to the astonishment of his hearers,
there can be little doubt that they secretly sympathised with
the speaker. Their temper cannot have been improved by the
knowledge that the King nad determined to make use of 44,000/.
out of the subsidies which they had so recently granted, in
paying the debts of three of his favourites. The fact that two
of these, Lord Hay 3 and Lord Haddington, were Scotchmen,
must have increased the disgust with which the prodigality of
the King was regarded in the House of Commons.4
The next day James heard what had passed. He im-
mediately sent for Salisbury, and after rating him for not giving
him earlier information, and for having allowed Pigott to go so
long unpunished, he summoned the Council, and commanded
1 Report in C. J. i. 332. Carleton to Chamberlain, Dec. 18, 1606,
S. P. Dom. xxiv. 23.
2 C. J. i. 333. lioderie to Puisieux, e ' I9' 1607, Ambassades, ii.
87.
3 He had been created a baron without the right of sitting in Parlia-
ment, no doubt in ^rder not to prejudice Parliament against the King's
proposals.
4 Chamberlain to Carleton, Feb. 6, 1607, ^". P. Dom. xxvi. 45.
ioo7 THE QUESTION OF NATURALISATION. 331
them to take immediate steps for bringing the delinquent to
justice.
The Commons, on hearing what had taken place in the
Council, determined to deal with the matter themselves. They
excused themselves for taking no steps at the time on the plea
that it was not well to answer a fool according to his folly.
After some debate, they resolved that Pigott, being a member
of the House, was not liable to be called in question elsewhere.
They then ordered that he should be expelled the House and
committed to the Tower. In less than a fortnight, he was re-
leased upon the plea of ill-health.
Meanwhile, the House had commenced the discussion of
the important question of naturalisation. On February 14, the
Debates on debate was opened by Fuller. He compared Eng-
land to a rich pasture, which was threatened with an
Fuller's irruption of a herd ol famished cattle. He proceeded
speech. to draw a most dcs] >onding picture of the state of the
country. There was not suflft ienl preferment for the numbers
Ol 1 i ilars who crowded to the Universities. The
inhabitants of London were already far too numerous.
The existing trade did not suffice for the support of the mer-
chants who attempted to live by it. If this was a true account
of the evils under which the country was labouring, how could
1 be found for the impending invasion from the North?
He then asked, in language which never failed in meeting with
a response in th 11 ol Commons, whether this docrine ol
the naturalisation of the n ition ol Scots by the mere
ol their being born under the dominion ol the King were
really according to law. Tins theory made matters of the
■ importance depend nol upon the law, but upon the
moftl reign. The consequeno i ol ach a doctrine
Id be fatal. It Philip and Mar) had left a son, thai aon
would have inherited the dominions ol both his parents, and
would have naturalised the Spaniards and the Sicilians in
England, without any r< fi to Parliament. What might
have happened fifty years before, might alwi pen at any
moment under similar (in umstani .
1 C. 7- i- 334-
333 THE POST-NAT/. CH.vm.
The debate was resumed on the 17th. Towards the close
of the sitting, Bacon rose to answer the objections which had
_ . i been made. He was, perhaps, the only man in
Bacon England besides the King who was really enthusiastic
in support of the Union. He had meditated on it
long and deeply. He had occupied a prominent position in the
debates upon the subject in 1604. He had written more than
one paper l in which he laid his views before the King. He
had taken a leading part as one of the Commissioners by whom
the scheme which was now before the House had been pro-
duced. To the part which he then took he always looked back
with satisfaction. Only once in the Essays which form one of
his titles to fame, did he recur to events in which he had him-
self been engaged, and that single reference was to the Com-
mission of the Union.2 He would himself, perhaps, have been
willing to go even further than his fellow-commissioners had
thought proper to go. Like James, he looked forward hope-
fully to the day when one Parliament should meet on behalf
of both countries, and when one law should govern the two
nations ; and he hoped that that law might be made consonant
with the truest dictates of justice. He knew, indeed, that there
was little prospect of such a result in his own day, but he was
desirous that a beginning at least should be made.
These views he still held, but he had learnt that they were
far beyond anything which he could expect to accomplish. He
contented himself,3 in reply to Fuller, with advocating the
measure before the House. He adjured his hearers to raise
their minds above all private considerations and petty prejudices,
and to look upon the proposed change with the eyes of statesmen.
It had been said that England would be inundated with new
comers, and that there would not be sufficient provision for the
children of the soil. He answered that no such incursion was
to be expected. Men were not to be moved as easily as cattle.
If a stranger brought with him no means of his own, and had
1 'A Brief Discourse of the happy Union,' &c. ' Certain Articles or
Considerations touching the Union.' Letters and Life, iii. 90, 218.
2 Essay on Counsel.
3 Bacon's speech. Letters and Life, iii. 307.
i6o7. BACON ANSWERS FULLER.
jj:
no way of supporting himself in the country to which he came,
he would starve. But even if this were not the case, he denied
that England was fully peopled. The country could with ease
support a larger population than it had ever yet known. Fens,
commons, and wastes were crying out for the hand of the
cultivator. If they were too little, the sea was open. Commerce
would give support to thousands. Ireland was waiting for
colonists to till it, and the solitude of Virginia was crying aloud
for inhabitants.1 To the objection that it was unfair to unite
poor Scotland to rich England, he replied that it was well
that the difference consisted ' but in the external goods of
fortune ; for, indeed, it must be confessed that for, the goods of
the mind and the- body they are' our other 'selves; for, to do
them but right," it was well known ' that in their capacities and
understandings they arc a people ingenious ; in labour, in-
dustrious ; in courage, valiant : in body, hard, active, and
comely.' The advantages of a union with such a people were
not to be measured by the amount of money they might have-
in their pockets. With respect to the legal part of the question,
he expressed himself satisfied that the Post-nati were already
naturalised ; but he thought it advisable that this should be
de< lared by statute. He concluded by pointing out the dangers
which might ensue- if the present proposals were rejected.
Quarrels might break out, and estrangement, and even separa-
tion might follow. If", on the other hand, the House would
put all prejudices aside, they would make the United Kingdom
to be thi greatest monan hy whi< h the world had ever seen.
Admirable as this argument was, and < oik liisivrly as it nul
all the objections which had been raised by the prejudices of
the time, il is plain thai there was our part of fuller's
peech whh h it left wholly unanswered, [f England
and s< otland -. lied upon to unite bi i ause all
»ns born after the King's accession were born within tin-
King's allegiance, why might not Spain and England be called
upon to unite under similar circum tanc - Bacon and the
judges might repeat as often as they phased that the naturalisa-
1 The alhi-ion to Virginia is not in the printed speech, hut is to be
found in the Journals.
334 THE POST-NATI. CH. vin.
tion of the Post-nati was in accordance with the law ; the
common-sense of the House of Commons told them that it
ought not to be so. Since the precedents had occurred, upon
which the judges rested their opinion, circumstances had
changed. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the ties
of allegiance had been much stronger, and the ties of nationality
much weaker, than they afterwards became. If, however, the
Commons had been ready to make their acceptance of the
Union contingent upon the King's assent to an Act declaring
that, in all future cases, naturalisation should not follow mere
allegiance, they would probably have found no difficulty with
James. But they were alarmed lest the concession of English
privileges to the Post-nati should be unaccompanied by the
subjection of the Post-nati to English law. In the conference
Feb. 25. which ensued,1 Sir Edwin Sandys argued the question
wkhthe"* ^rom tne Commons' point of view. He boldly de-
Lords, clared that times were changed, and that the pre-
cedents were of no avail under the altered circumstances, and
he ended by suggesting that it would be better to give merely
limited privileges to the Post-nati.2 The lawyers of the Lower
House were less successful. Instead of assailing the position in
the only way in which it was possible to succeed, they attempted
to support their conclusion upon technical grounds. The
judges being consulted, gave their opinions, with one exception,
against the theory of the House of Commons, Coke especially
bringing his immense stores of learning to bear upon the case.
For once in his life he and Bacon were agreed. But it
need hardly be said, that if they came to the same conclusion,
Opinion of they did not arrive at it by the same road. Bacon,
favourofthe m his enthusiasm for the cause in which he was
"ionTf'ihe* engaged> had overlooked the evils which might here-
Post-natiby after ensuc from the admission of those technical
the common
law. grounds upon which part of his argument was based,
1 State Trials, ii. 562 C. J, i. 345. Xote of the speeches of Popham
and Coke, Feb. 26, S. P. Dom. xxvi. 64 ; calendared as Coke's speech
alone, and dated Feb. 25.
2 This appears more clearly from the report in the Journals than from
that in the State Trials.
1607 COKE'S OPINION 335
but which can hardly be supposed to have had any part in in-
fluencing his judgment. To Coke those technical grounds
were everything. For the broader aspects of the case he cared
nothing ; but his reverence for the English common law
amounted to a passion. He considered the system of which
he was the acknowledged master to be the purest emanation
of perfect wisdom. Whatever opposed the common law was
treated by him with contemptuous arrogance. For the sake of
the common law he had bullied Jesuits in his youth ; for the
sake of the same common law he was in his old age to stand
forward to oppose his Sovereign. On this occasion there could
be no doubt which side of the question would receive his
support. English law had grown up under two distinct in-
fluences. The influence of the judges had drawn it in one
direction, the influence of Parliament had drawn it in another.
The natural tendency of the judges was to put forward on ever)'
occasion the authority of the Sovereign ; the natural tendency
of Parliament was to give expression to the rights of the nation.
It happened that Parliament had never had o< casion to legislate
directly upon the subject, and Coke had no difficulty in quoting
precedent after precedent to show that the decisions of the
COUrtS were all in favour of his doctrine of naturalisation by
allegiance. The appeal of Sandys to a rea onable construction
of the law in conscque i< c of the altered condition <>i the
tltry, he treated with cod contempt He was there to
are wli.u tl ininun law declared, and ol any ollici
ll he knew tlOthi
The Comm tod firm : they knew that whatever might
be the value- <■: I imenl . they were in the right in
placing the important question befon them on a
wider basis than thai <>t tin- technical law. Whilst
they doubted v,i,.ii coi thej were informi <l
that the Lords had consented to hear any practical tion
which the (din n might agree U> make.1
1 A papei in the .v. /'. Dom. xxvi, • ■ , Scotchmen created
Peen in England, is endorsed by Salisbury, "AH other laws make them
aliens, precedents contrary, ceason, nature." On tin, point the Louis ma t
have been with the Commons almost to a man.
336 THE POST-NATI. CH. vni.
Accordingly, on March 14, the Commons made a proposal
of their own.1 They were ready to do away with the distinction
March 14. between the Ante-nati and the Post-nati, and were
At the willing to naturalise by statute all the King's Scottish
Lords' re- . . °
quest, they subjects. 1 hey would thus get rid of the difficulty
Sueon attending the exercise of the prerogative. A clause
the subject. was tQ ^e introduced, declaring those who held pro-
perty in England to be subject to all the burdens connected
with it ; and it was to be added that natives of Scotland were
to be excluded from a very considerable number of official
positions. The proposed measure would have met all the diffi-
culties of the case. The disqualifying portions of the Act would
certainly be repealed as soon as the natives of England and
Scotland began to feel that they were in reality members of a
common country.
The Government desired time to consider this proposition,
especially as there was reason to believe that the Commons
thought of supporting it by passing a vote in direct condem-
nation of the opinion of the Judges that the Post-nati were
already naturalised. The King's ministers accordingly took
the somewhat extraordinary step of advising the Speaker to
exaggerate a slight indisposition, in order that the Commons
might be unable, in his absence, to proceed to any business
of importance.2 Soon afterwards the dispute entered on a new
stage. The Commons made the sweeping proposal that the
Union should be made still more complete by bring-
ing about an identity of the laws of the two nations, in
order that Scotchmen who were to be admitted to honours and
property in England might be subject to the law which was cur-
rent in England. Bacon opposed this plan, on the ground that,
excellent as it was, it would lead to intolerable delay.3
May 70.
The King's At last it was known that the King would himself
address the two Houses. The speech which he
delivered on this occasion 4 was decidedly superior to any that
1 Coll. MSS. Tit. F. iv. fol. 55. The debate in committee of March 6
on which the proposal was founded, is reported in S. P. Dom. xxvi. 72.
2 Salisbury to Lake, March 18, S. P. Dom. xxvi. 90.
* Letters and Life, iii. 335. * C. J. 357.
i6o7 THE KINGS SPEECH. 337
had yet fallen from his lips. For once he had a cause to plead
which was not his own, and in pleading the cause of his
country, and in striving to promote the future welfare of both
nations, he allowed but few traces to be seen of that petulance
by which his speeches were usually disfigured. He told the
Houses plainly, that he looked forward to a perfect union
between the countries ; but he told them no less plainly, that
he was aware that such a union would be a question of time.
For the present, all that he asked was the passing of the
measure now before them. Though he trusted that they
would not object to a complete naturalisation of the Post-nati,
he would be ready to consent to any reasonable limitations
•1 his right of appointment to offices under the Crown.
I • tone of this speech, so much kindlier and more earnest
than had been expected, produced a favourable impression on
the House of Commons, and it was thought by some that if
the question had been put to the vote immediately, the King
would have obtained the greater part of his demands.1 The
speech was, however, followed by an adjournment for nearly
three weeks, and when the House met again after Easter the
impression had worn off. There was much discussion upon
the course to be pursued, and it was only after the King had
rated them for their delay that the House determined to con-
fine its attention to the points upon whirl) there was little
different e, and to n 11 rve the questions of commerce
■ I u future ' onsideration. A Bill
irdincly drawn up for tin' abolition of iho ■
criminal*, laws in whi< h Scotland w.i rded as a hostile
' ountry, on the 1 ondition thai statutes of a similar des< ription
repealed in the next Parliament whi< h met in Si
land. It was a! 0 decided to introduce into this Bill clau
the manner in which Englishmen wereto be brou
to trial for offeni committed in Scotland. During the I
four years much had been dom fot the pacificat
I lers. The tran portation to Ireland of many ot the wi
offenders had been attended with satisfactory results, and
1 Boderic to Puisieux. April —- 1607, Ambassades. ii. 168.
vo:>. 1. z
3J3 THE POST-NATI. , ch. viil
harmony which now for the first time existed between the
officers on the two sides of the frontier, had brought some
kind of peace and order into that wild district. Still, the old
mosstrooping spirit was not to be changed in a day. The
Commissioners had therefore proposed that persons charged
with criminal offences of a certain specified character should
be handed over for trial to the authorities of the kingdom in
which the offences had been committed. In this proposal,
which had been acted upon since the accession of James, they
were supported by the Commissioners for the Borders, who, as
well as the gentry ' of the northern shires, were unwilling to
see any change introduced which would lessen the chances of
bringing to conviction the Scottish plunderers who still infested
their lands. They thought that if the. thief were to be sent back
to be tried in his own country, it would be impossible to
procure a conviction, as no hostile witness would dare to
present himself among the neighbours of the accused person.
The House of Commons looked at the question from a
different point of view. The Northern gentry had been eager
to support a system which made conviction easy, but they had
forgotten to inquire how it would work in the case of an
innocent man. Under it, an Englishman charged with a crime
which he had not committed, might be sent into Scotland for
trial. When he was once amongst his accusers,
Prisoners to he could hardly hope to escape the gallows. The
iheir'ot.? House of Commons preferred the safety of the
country. innocent to the certainty of condemning the guilty.2
In the spirit which was afterwards to pervade the criminal
jurisprudence of the country, they decided that the accused
' >uld be tried on his own side of the Borders. Nor was
the House content even with this safeguard against an unjust
verdict. By an iniquitous custom which had become the
tradition of the law of England, no counsel was allowed to
' C. J. i. 377-
- Yet, in 1610, they changed their minds, and repealed this clause.
The Repealing Act (7 & 8 Jac. T. cap. 1), however, was only to be in
force till the next Parliament, when it expired, the Parliament of 1614
being dissolved before there had been time to consider the subject.
1607 BORDER TRIALS. 339
speak en behalf of a prisoner accused of felony, nor was an
oath administered to the witnesses who were called to speak
on his behalf. This custom was the relic of a system which
had long passed away. As long as the jury were sworn
witnesses, they only called in additional witnesses for the
purpose of obtaining further information. The prisoner did
not call any witnesses at all. In due course of time, the sworn
witnesses became judges of the fact, and the witnesses for the
prosecution were regarded as accusers, in some measure filling
the places of the old sworn witnesses. While, therefore, an
oath was tendered to them, persons who might appear to give
their testimony on behalf of the prisoner, were looked upon as
irregularly present, and were left unsworn. The consequence
was, that an excuse was given to an unfair jury to neglect
evidence tendered in support of the prisoner, because it had
not been < onfirmed by an oath.
A, usual, the lawyers had invented reasons for approving
of a custom which had grown up unperceived amongst them.
When Sandys proposed that the prisoners in Border trials
should be allowed the assistance of counsel, and added that he
should be glad to see the same course adopted overall England,
Hobart immediately rose and declared that he regarded this as
an attempt to shake the corner-stone of the law, and advised
that such suggestions should be reserved for the tune when
they might be deliberating on a general revision of the laws of
th'- two countries.1 In a similar spirit, arguments were brought
against the proposal to allow the witnes 1 - oi the prisoner to be
sworn.2 In spite of all opposition, the proposed clause was
carried. Another clause was also carried, which ordered that
juries should be chosen fromahighei cla 9 ol men than thai
from which they were selected in tin- resl ol the country, and
power was given them to reje< ' u< h witnesses as they mi lit
suppose to be in< lined, from affe< tion or mali» •-, to falsify their
lence. Nothing, however, was done to give the prisoner
the benefit of counsel3
1 Notes 1 fpro ceding , May 29, S. /' ■' > .,;, xxvii. 30.
2 Collection of arguments in the House <>( Commons, June 5> >Si P.
Dom. xxvii. 44. 3 4 Jac. I. cap. 1.
z 2
340 THE POST-NATI. cil. vin.
If these long debates had led but to a slight result, they
at least served to commend Bacon to the King. At last, after
years of weary waiting, his feet were fairly placed on
BaLon6 tne ladder of promotion. On June 25, before the
Solicitor- close of the session, he became Solicitor-General,
1 ■ ciieral.
Doderidge having been induced to accept the post
of King's Serjeant, according to the arrangement proposed by
Ellesmere in the preceding summer. By his marked ability in
the conduct of an unpopular cause, in which his whole sympa-
thies were engaged, Bacon had done more than enough to
entitle him to the honour which he now achieved.
Busy as the session had been, the Commons had not been
so preoccupied with the debates on the Union as to be unable
to pay attention to the complaints of the English merchants
trading in Spain. Ever since the treaty had been signed, in 1604,
the relations between Spain and England had been
1605.
Relations subjected to a strain, arising from the ill-feeling
Kngilnd and which was the legacy of the long war— a feeling which
Spain- the Government strove in vain to allay, by repeated
attempts to draw the bonds of amity closer than the character
of the two nations would warrant.
In the spring of 1605 the question of the neutrality of the
English ports reached a crisis. The Spanish admiral, Don Louis
Conflict Fajardo, had received orders to transport 12,000
"," , men from Spain into the Netherlands. If, as was not
Spanish and ' '
P tchships improbable, he was unable to land them in Flanders,
1:1 Paver * ' .
harbour. he was to set them on shore in England, where it
was supposed that they would obtain protection till means
< ould be obtained to send them across the Straits in small boats
which might slip over from time to time. The execution of
this commission was entrusted by the admiral to Pedro de
Cubia, who seized upon a number of foreign vessels which
happened to be lying at Lisbon, and converted them into trans-
ports for his soldiers. One of these was an English vessel, and
another was the property of a Scotchman.
On May 14 the fleet left Lisbon. By the time that it had
arrived at the entrance of the Channel, the Dutch Admiral
Haultain had taken up a position off Dover, with the intention
1605 SEA-FIGHT OFF DOVER. 341
of barring the passage of the Straits. The Spaniards neglected
even to take the ordinary precaution of keeping together. On
June 2, two of their ships found themselves in the presence of
the enemy. The crews, after firing a few shots, ran them both
on shore. A few of those who were on board escaped by
swimming. The remainder, according to the custom which
prevailed in those horrible wars, were massacred to a man.
The next day the eight remaining vessels came up. The
leading ship, on board which was the Spanish admiral, was the
English merchantman which had been seized at Lisbon. The
English crew were still on board, and their knowledge of the
coast stood the admiral in good stead. They kept the vessel
close to the shore, and were able to slip into Dover harbour
without suffering much damage. Of the others, one was cut
off by the enemy. As on the preceding day, the Dutch took
few prisoners, and threw the greater part of the officers and
men into the sea. Two more vessels shared the same fate.
They attempted to run on shore, but were boarded before the
crews could escape. The remaining four made their way into
the harbour. The Dut< h, in the ardour of the combat, forgot
that their enemies were now under the protection of the English
flag. Tins was too mu< h lor the commander of the Castle, who
; for two days been a spectator of the butcher) which had
: 1 ommitted under his eyes. I Le gave orders to fire upon the
who drew off with the loss oi about .1 hundred men.
This affair gave rise to a long serii > ol negotiations. The
inish ambassador, thinking that Janus would be suffi< iently
1 .u the proi eedings of tin- I >ut< h fleet to
;^'h grant him anything which he might choose to ask,
demanded that the remainder oi the troops should
d to l landi 1 - undi r the prote< tion ol the I
fleet. This was at once refused, but James allowed himself to
be prevailed upon to request the Stat< 1 to give permission to
the Spaniards to pa - ov< r. When he heard that this d< mand
had been rejected, 1 How them to ri mi.hu at 1 »■
so long as they were maintained at the 1 xpense of the 1
Spam. 'I lii> offer w.is ,-i< 1 epted, and they remained in England
for some month-. I heir numbers were much thinned b) the
342 THE POST-NATI. ch. VIII.
destitution which was caused by the neglect of their own Govern-
ment. At lai;t, in December, the handful that remained took
advantage of one of the long winter nights, when the blockading
fleet had been driven from the coast by a storm, and made
their way over to Dunkirk and Gravelines.1
In Spain itself, the English merchants who had begun, even
before the conclusion of the treaty, to visit the country, were
but ill satisfied with the treatment they received.
Englishmen The officers of the Inquisition declared loudly that
bythe'6' their authority was not derived from the King of
?° Spain!0" Spain, and that, therefore, they were not bound by
the treaty which he had made.2 On the arrival of
the Earl of Nottingham, who was sent over on a special mission
to swear to the peace on behalf of the King of England, the
, Spanish Government at first declined to include in
Ratification the instrument of ratification the additional articles
by which English Protestants were freed from perse-
cution. Nottingham refused to give way, and the whole treaty
was solemnly ratified.3 But it was not long before Sir Charles
Cornwallis, who remained in Spain as the ordinary ambassador,
had to complain that these articles were not carried into execu-
tion. As soon as an English ship arrived in port, it was boarded
by the officials of the Inquisition, who put questions to the
sailors about their religion, and searched the vessel for heretical
books. If any of the crew went on shore, they were liable to
ill-treatment if they refused to kiss the relics which were offered
to them as a test of their religion. It was not till nearly four
months after the ratifications had been exchanged that an order
was obtained from the King, putting a stop to these practices.4
The growing estrangement between the two countries
must have made the Spanish Government still more eager
to convert the peace with England into a close alliance. In
1 Mcteren, compared with the papers in Winwood, and in the Holland
series in the .V. P.
2 Chamberlain to Winwood, Dec. l8, 1604, Winw. ii. 41. Letters
received from Spain by Wilson, Dec. 14 and 17, 1604, S. P. Spain.
1 Two letters of Cornwallis to Cranborne, May 31, 1605, .9. P. Spain.
* Memorial presented by Cornwallis, Sept. 14, 1605, S. P. Spain.
i6o; PROPOSED SPANISH MARRIAGE. 343
July 1605, hints were thrown out to Cornwallis at Madrid,
similar to those which had been thrown out by the
Proposition r •
for a Spanish ambassadors in England, that the King of
between Spain would gladly see his eldest daughter married
Henry and to Prince Henry. Spain would surrender to the young
couple its claims to a large portion of the Netherlands.
If the proposed marriage were not agreeable, a large sum of
money, as well as the possession of some fortified towns in the
Low Countries, would be guaranteed to James if he could per-
suade the Dutch to give up their independence upon certain con-
ditions which were afterwards to be agreed upon. Salisbury, who
probably thought that these overtures might be made the basis
of negotiations which might give peace to the Netherlands, and
who was compelled by the receipt of his pension to keep up
at least the appearance of a good understanding with the Court
of Spain ted Cornwallis to ask that some definite proposal
should be submitted to him.1 The suggestion that James should
mediate was repented. After some delay the English Council
directed Cornwallis to inform the Spaniards that James was un-
willing to propose to the States to accept his mediation, as it was
certain that they would refuse to submit to their old masters upon
any terms. If, however, the Spaniards still desired it, he would
1 1 Winwood to sound the minds of the Dutch upon thesub-
Ii. on the other hand, the alternative of the marriage w< n
preferred by Spain, he would ask the States whether they would
be willing to receive his son as their sovereign. The
Spaniard,, however, who had perhaps never intended
l^-twecn
Spain and to do more than to lure Jam* 5 av,.iy from hlS alliam e
with the Dutch, upon further consideration raised
objections to the marriage ol the Infanta with a Protestant, and
the negotiation fell to the ground
After the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot, all chance of a
close alliance bel ■•■■ 1 a the two ( rov< rnments was for the present
at an end. The knowledge thai the English troops in the service
of the An hdnke had been intended by the conspirators tO CO
operate with them by invading England, indu< < <\ Jami 9 to refuse
' Salisbury to Cornwallis, Oct. 24, 1605, li'imv. ii. 147 ; and a scries
of documents commencing at p. 160.
344 THE POST-NATI. CH. vm.
to allow any further levies to be made.1 A few weeks later, a
clause in the new Recusancy Act prescribed that no person
should be allowed to leave the realm without taking the oath
of allegiance, which must have effectually prevented many from
passing over to Flanders. Nor was the news of the severity
with which the Catholics were treated in England likely to
make James popular in Spain. James, on his part, was no less
irritated at the refusal of the Archduke to give up Owen and
Baldwin, who were believed to have been implicated in the con-
spiracy, and he knew that in the course which had been taken,
the Court of Brussels had the full support of that of Spain.
Nor was James unwarranted in supposing that the feeling
of horror with which he was regarded in Spain might lead to
Plots formed tne formation of fresh conspiracies against his person,
in Spain. At no time were the despatches of the ambassadors
at Madrid and Brussels fuller of reports of plots and conspiracies
than in the summer of 1606. Of these plots, however, one only
came to a head.
On July 6, a certain Captain Newce 2 was brought before
the Privy Council. His account of himself was, that he had
Newce's served in Ireland during the war, but had been dis-
examination. mjsserj from his p0St when the army was reduced.
In May 1605, he had come to London, and, at Salisbury's
recommendation, the Dutch ambassador had promised him a
captain's command if he could succeed in levying a company
for the States. With this object in view he returned to Ireland,
provided with recommendatory letters to the Deputy. Ireland
was at this time full of discharged soldiers, whose services were
no longer required. When he arrived there, he found that he
was too late, as all the Englishmen who were willing to serve
the States had already given in their names to another officer
who was employed on a similar errand. He then tried to pre-
vail upon Irishmen to serve under him. They told him that
they had no objection to enlisting again, but that, if they were
to fight at all, they preferred fighting on the side of Spain.
Newce, who, like many others in the days before the army had
1 Salisbury to Wimvood, March 15, 1606, S. P. Holland.
2 Declaration of Captain Newce, July 6, 1606, 3". P. Dom. xxii. 34.
1606 FRANCESCHI' S PLOT. 345
become a profession for life, had no scruples in joining any side
which would pay him, readily assented, and sailed for Spain
with two hundred men. Upon his arrival, the authorities, who
knew that he had formerly served under the English Govern-
ment, put him in prison as a spy, and dispersed his men
amongst different regiments. Shortly after this he fell in with
a Colonel Franceschi, who incited him to take vengeance upon
the English Government, by which he had been deprived of his
command in Ireland. He obtained from him several particulars
of the state of the Irish fortifications, and told him that, if war
should break out, he should be provided with 10,000/. and a
force with which he might invade that country. Franceschi,
who had probably received some vague intelligence of the ex-
istence of the Gunpowder Plot, added that peace could not
long endure. Ere long, he said, he would hear strange news
from England, where, if he had not been deceived, there would
.reat changes before Christmas. Meanwhile, it was suggested
to him that he would do good service if he would go into the
Low Countries and enter into a correspondence with some
of his old comrades who were in the service of the States, as
he might he able to induce them to betray some of the towns
whi< h were intrusted to their keeping.
Newce accordingly left Spain, as if for the purpose <>i
travelling Into Flanders; but instead of going directly to his
•iii.ition, he slipped over to England, and told the whole
story to Salisbury, who din < ted him to continue Oil good terms
with Franceschi, and to lei him know when any plot which
might he in hand was ripe for execution. Going over to the
Low Count tin nut Franceschi, and was told by him
of a ice which would bring him greal rewards. He
could not obtain any information ol the nature of this lervice,
hut In- v, a . mi- a im d that it he would l'" mto England, a brol
of Franceschi's hould join him there, and acquaint him with
all that was m for him to know. II.- accordingl) re
turned to England in the beginning ol Man h. It was not till
June 29 that Toma o I - in< 1 1 in, who had been -'in over by
his brother, joined him at Dover. He had cro ed in '"in
panidnship with an Irishman, named Ball, who acted as secre-
346 THE POST-NATI. CH. vnl.
tary to the Spanish ambassador in London. Upon their arrival
in London, if Newce is to be believed, Franceschi offered him
„ . , , 40,000/. as a reward for the service which he was to
He is asked .
to betray perform, but refused to tell him what it was, unless
fortified he would first take an oath of secrecy. He was also
to find an associate, and to send his own wife and
child, as well as the wife, son, or brother of his associate, to
Antwerp, to be kept as hostages for his fidelity. After making
some difficulties, he was at last induced to take the oath of
secrecy, and was told that he was required to assist in betraying
Bergen-op-Zoom, Flashing, or Rammekens. On the following
day he met Franceschi upon Tower Hill. He had taken the
precaution of requesting a friend named Leddington to follow
them, and to do his best to overhear their conversation. Fran-
ceschi repeated the proposal of betraying Flushing, and they
went down the river together to look for a vessel to take Newce
over to Holland. Leddington l asserted that, as they were
returning from a fruitless search for such a vessel, he overheard
Franceschi say, " A brave-spirited fellow, with a good
to murder horse and a pistol, might do it and go a great way
after in a day and night ; " to which Newce answered,
" The best time for it would be when he did hunt at Royston."
These words were declared by Newce to have been part of a
conversation in which Franceschi proposed to him to murder
the King ; and it must be confessed that, if they were really
spoken, they could bear no other interpretation.
On the following morning, Newce met Franceschi at the
Spanish ambassador's. He told him that there were difficulties
Bail's at- m the way of betraying the towns in the Netherlands.
po?soV° Soon after these words had passed between them,
Newce. j>ai| offered Newce some sweetmeats, some of which
he ate at the time, and the remainder he took home, where he
and his wife, and some other women, partook of them. Soon
afterwards, all who had tasted them were seized with sickness.
A physician who was sent for declared that they had been
poisoned. Newce immediately sent to inform Salisbury of
1 Deposition of Leddington, July 6, 1606, S. P. Dom, xxii. 33.
i6o6 FRANCESCHPS PLOT. 347
what had happened. Franceschi was at once arrested. The
Franceschi Spanish ambassador refused to surrender Ball, upon
and Bali which Salisbury sent to seize him, even in the ambas-
arrested,
sador's house. Franceschi admitted that there had
been a plot for the betrayal of one of the towns, but denied that
he had ever said a word about murdering the King.1 Newce,
however, when confronted with him, persisted in the truth of
his story. Ball, after some prevarication, admitted that he had
given the sweetmeats to Newce.
If Franceschi had been an Englishman, and if Ball had not
been under the ambassador's protection, further inquiries would
but arc sub- undoubtedly have been made. As the matter stood,
the Government thought it prudent to let the investi-
gation drop. Newce's character was not sufficiently
good to enable Salisbury to rely upon his evidence, and he was
unwilling to give further provocation to the ambassador, whose
privileges he had recently set at nought, by ordering an arrest
CO be made in his house. It was not long before Ball was set
at liberty ; FraiN ichi was kept in the Tower for more than a
year, at the expiration of which time, he, too, was allowed to
leave the country.'
Whilst the Spaniards were becoming more and more hostile
to England, there was little hope that English traders who tell
1 their power would receive even simple justice at their
ds. These traders were now very numerous. In 1604 tin
imons had declared strongly in favour of throwing open
the commerce with Spain to all Englishmen who
3hs££i. WCTU willin8 '" ' ' he proposal had b<
by the < rovernmt til on the ground that the
burden of protecting the trade ought to fall in the first place
"" the nr n hanl 1 thi m •• Ive 1, and thai some organization was
necessary in order to provide paymenl for the 1 onsulswho were
1 Examinations of France chi, July 6 an-l \z, 1606, S. /'. />o»i. xxii.
39. 5'-
-' Boderie to Puisieux, >•■ 1607, Ambassades de M. dc la Boderit,
I. 203. This account agrees with that given in the papers in the .S". P.,
excepting in some of the dates.
34S THE POST-NATI. ch. vn,.
to act on behalf of English mariners and traders in the Spanish
ports. After the end of the first session of Parliament Chief
Justice Popham proposed, as a compromise, that a company
should be formed, but that it should be open to all
The Spanish who were willing to contribute a fixed sum. Salisbury
eagerly adopted the plan, and in 1605 a Spanish
company was established on this footing.1
In the session of 1605-6, however, it appeared that the
House of Commons was dissatisfied with this arrangement.
1606. There were many owners of small craft in the Channel
ofPth°e'tIon Por,:s) who had hoped to be able to make a livelihood
Commons. Dy running their vessels to Lisbon or Corunna, though
it was out of their power to pay the subscription required by
the new company. Their cause was taken up in the Commons,
and a Bill was brought in declaring that all subjects of his
Majesty should have full liberty of trade with France, Spain,
and Portugal, in spite of any charters which had been or might
at any future time be granted.2 Salisbury saw that the feeling
of the Commons was too strong to be resisted, and the Bill
passed through both Houses without opposition.
The petty traders thus admitted to commercial intercourse
with Spain did not always receive advantage from the privilege
which they had craved. Their treatment by the Spanish
authorities was often exceedingly harsh. The slightest suspicion
of the presence of Dutch goods in an English vessel was enough
to give rise to the seizure of the whole cargo. The merchants
complained, with reason, of the wearisome delays of the Spanish
courts. Whatever had once been confiscated on any pretext,
was seldom, if ever, restored. Even if the owner was sufficiently
fortunate to obtain a decision in his favour, the value of the
property was almost invariably swallowed up in the expenses
of the suit, swollen, as they were, by the bribes which it was
necessary to present to the judges. It was suspected that the
Government was as often prevented from doing justice by its
inability to furnish the compensation demanded, as from any
1 Charter of the Spanish Company, May 31, 1605 ; Salisbury to Pop
ham, Sept 8, 1605, S. P. Dom. xiv. 21, xv. 54.
- Memoranda, April II, 1606, S. P. Dom. xx. 25.
i6o? SPANISH CRUELTIES. 349
intention to defraud. But whatever its motives may have been,
the consequences were extremely annoying. That English
ships trading with America should have been seized, can hardly
be considered matter for surprise. But English patience was
rapidly becoming exhausted, when it was known in London
that ship after ship had been pillaged, upon one pretence or
another, even in Spanish waters. Comwallis represented to the
nish Government the hardships under which his countrymen
were suffering. He was met with smooth words, and promises
were given that justice should be done ; but for a long time
these promises were followed by no practical result whatever.
Such were the grievances which, in 1607, the merchants laid
before the Commons. They selected the case of the 'Trial,'
1607. as one which was likely to move the feelings of the
House. On February 26, Sir Thomas Lowe, one of
" ','"' the members for the City of London, brought their
HOU
Commons, case forward. The ' Trial on her return from Alexan-
dria, in the autumn of 1604, had fallen in with a Spanish fleet
The Mediterranean was at that time infested by swarms of
pirates, in whose enterprises Englishmen had taken their share.
The Spaniards, on their part, were not content with attempting
to repress piracy. Orders had been given to their officers to
prevent all traffic with Jews and Mahometans, on the ground
unlawful to trade with the enemies of the Christian
religion. < tin tin- 1 in, the purser ol tin- ' Trial ' was sum-
moned on board the admiral's Ship, and was told by that
on,, the narrative whi< h was n ad in the I [ouse ol
Commoi '111.11 Ik- ws i ommanded to make sear< h fi n
|, v. 11 goods,1 of which, if our ship had none aboard,
he th( M h id nothing to say to them, for thai now a happy pea< e
was concluded between the K nj 0 as they would but only
make search, and, not finding any, would dismiss them. But,
notwith I inding their promises, albeit they found no Turks' nor
lews' goods, they then alleged against them that then ship
was a ship of war,2 and that they had taken from a Fren< hman
a piece of ordnance, a sail, and a hawser.' The Englishmen
1 C. J. i. 340. 7 i.e. a pirate.
35° THE POST-NATI. CH. VIII.
endeavoured to prove that the ship was a peaceable merchant-
man ; but in spite of all that they could say, the Spaniard
' commanded the purser to be put to the torture, and hanged
him up by the arms upon the ship's deck, and, the more to in-
crease his torture,' they hung heavy weights to his heels ;
1 nevertheless he endured the torture the full time, and confessed
no otherwise than truth. So then they put him the second
time to torture again, and hanged him up as aforesaid ; and,
to add more torment, they tied a live goat to the rope, which,
with her struggling did, in most grievous manner, increase his
torment, all which the full time he endured. The third time,
with greater fury, they brought him to the same torment
again, at which time, by violence, they brake his arms, so as
they could torment him no longer ; nevertheless he con-
fessed no otherwise but the truth of their merchants' voyage.
All which, with many other cruelties, being by our mariners at
sea endured for the space of two months, all which time they
enforced ship and men to serve them to take Turks, as they
pretended.' The poor men were at last sent to Messina,
where the officers were put in prison, and the crew sent to the
galleys, ' where they endured more miseries than before., inso-
much as few or none of them but had the hair of their heads
and faces fallen away ; and in this misery either by torment,
straitness of prison, or other cruel usage, in a short time the
master, merchant, and purser died, and to their deaths never
conlessed other but the truth ; and, being dead, they would
afford them none other burial but in the fields and sea-sands.
All of our men being wasted, saving four,1 they were only left
there in prison and galleys, and these, through their miseries,
very weak and sick. One of them, called Ralph Boord, was
twice tormented, and had given him a hundred bastinadoes to
enforce him to confess, and for not saying as they would have
him, was committed to a wet vault, where he saw no light, and
lay upon the moist earth, feasted with bread and water, for
eight days, and being then demanded if he would not confess
otherwise than before, he replied he had already told them the
1 There were eighteen originally.
1607 SPANISH CRUELTIES. 351
truth, and would not say otherwise ; whereupon they took from
him his allowance of bread, and for seven days gave him no
sustenance at all, so that he was constrained to eat orange-peels
which other prisoners had left there, which stunk, and were
like dirt, and at seven days' end could have eaten his own
flesh ; and the fifteenth day the gaoler came unto him and not
finding him dead, said he would fetch him wine and bread to
comfort him, and so gave him some wine and two loaves of
bread, which he did eat, and within a little while after, all his
hair fell off his head ; and, the day after, a malefactor for clip-
ping of money was put into the same vault, who, seeing what
his fellow-prisoner was in, gave him some of his oil he
had for his candle to drink, by which means . . . his life was
preserved.'
At last the four who were left alive acknowledged that they
had robbed the French ship of the piece of ordnance and the
other articles, whi< h had in reality belonged to the ship when
she sailed from Kn^land.
The indignation felt by the House of Commons at such a
tale a.s this may easily be conceived. They took the matter up
warmly. This case of the ' Trial ' was only one out of
many others. The ' Vineyard ' had been seized under
pretence that she was carrying ammunition to the
Turks. It was said that, besides the hardships in-
flicted upon the crews, English merchants had been unfairly
deprived of no less a sum than 200,000/.' But it was more
to feel irritation at su< h proceedings than to devise a
remedy. Even the merchants themselves did not dare to
advise an immediate declaration of war. Merchant vei
went far more at their own risk in those days than they do now.
1 • ' hould • m war for the sake of a I
traders was not to !"■ thought of. The Government did its
part if it remonstrated by means of its amba - .and used
all its influent e to obtain justii e.
Still the mer< hanl 1 •■■ r< nol 1 ontent that the matter should
here. They had discovered an old statute authorising the
1 C. J. i. 373-
352 THE POST-NATI. ch. viii.
issue of letters of marque, upon the receipt of which the aggrieved
persons might make reprisals upon the goods of the nation which
had inflicted the wrong. They requested that such letters might
now be issued, and their request was forwarded by the Com-
mons to the Lords.
On June 151 a conference was held between the two
Houses. Salisbury told the Commons that peace and war
must be determined by the general necessities of the
Salisbury . , . .
advises kingdom. He reminded them that it was at their
request that the late Spanish Company had been
abolished, and that the merchants were now suffering from the
loss of the protection which they had derived from it. It was
notorious that it was difficult to obtain justice in Spain, and
those who traded there must not expect to fare better than the
inhabitants of the country. In reviewing the particulars of
their petition, he told them that each merchant must carry on
trade with the Indies at his own risk. With respect to the
other complaints, the Spanish Government had given assurance
that justice should be done ; he therefore thought it better to
wait a little longer before taking any decided step. He was
able, without difficulty, to point out the extreme inconveniences
of the issue of letters of marque. It would be immediately
followed by a confiscation of all English property in Spain,
the value of which would far exceed that of the few Spanish
prizes which the merchants could hope to seize.
He then turned to argue another question with the Com-
mons. He maintained that the determination of war and
and argues peace was a prerogative of the Crown, with which
tllfnVofwaj the Lower House was not entitled to meddle. This
arfuTbT assertion he supported by a long series of precedents 2
determined from the times of the Plantagenets. It had often
Crown. happened that the Commons, from anxiety to escape
a demand for subsidies, had excused themselves from giving
an opinion on the advisability of beginning or continuing a war.
He argued that when the opinion of Parliament had really
1 The speeches of Salisbury and Northampton are reported in Bacon's
Letters and Lijc, iii. 347.
2 Hallam, Middle Ages (1853), iii. 52.
6o7 VIEWS OF SALISBURY AXD NORTHAMPTON. 353
been given, it was 'when the King and Council conceived that
either it was material. to have some declaration of the zeal and
affection of the people, or else when the King needed to demand
moneys and aids for the charge of the wars.' His strongest argu-
ment was derived from the difficulty which the House must feel
in doing justice upon such matters. After all they could only
hear one side of the question. The Commons had themselves
felt the difficulty. ' For their part,' they had said a few days
before,1 ' they can make no perfect judgment of the matter
because they have no power to call the other party, and that
therefore they think it more proper for their Lordships, and do
refer it to them.' In fart, negotiations with foreign powers
must always he left in the hands of the Government, or of some
other select body of men. The remedy for the evil, which
was plainly felt, lay rather in the general control of Parliament
over the Government than in any direct interference with it in
the exe< Ution of its proper functions. Salisbury concluded by
assuring the Commons that no stone should be left unturned
to obtain redress, and by a declaration that if, contrary to
his expectation, that redress were still refused, the King would
be ready ' upon just provocation to enter into an honourable
war.'
Salisbury was followed by Northampton, in a speech which
hardly any other man in England would have allowed himself to
utter. In him was combined the superciliousness
ol a courtier with the haughtiness of a member ol
the old nobility. lie treated the ( 'ominous as if
they were the dusl beneath his feet. Me told them thai theii
only intended to express the want', ol the 1 oun
ties and boroughs for which they sat, and tli.it thus li:"
' only a private and local wisdom,' they were 'not fit to e amine
or determini t State. 'I he King alone could decide
upon such questions, and it wa likely that he would grant
t desires if they refrained from petitioning him, as he would
prefer that he should be acknowledged to be the fountain from
which all acceptable actions arose. After advi inj them to
1 C. ?. i. 381.
VOL. I. A A
354 THE POST-NATI. ch. vm.
imitate Joab, ' who, lying at the siege of Rabbah, and finding
it could not hold out, writ to David to come and take the
honour of taking the town,' he concluded by assuring them
that the Government would not be forgetful of the cause of the
merchants.
However insulting these remarks of Northampton were, the
Commons had nothing to do but to give way before Salisbury's
cooler and more courteous reasoning. They had
The Com- ° '
mons give no feasible plan to propose on their own part and
it was certainly advisable to attempt all means of
obtaining redress before engaging in a war of such difficulty
and danger. At Madrid, Cornwallis did what he could. He
frequently succeeded in obtaining the freedom of men who
were unjustly imprisoned,1 but the difficulties and delays of
Spanish courts were almost insuperable. In cases where there
was a direct breach of treaty, a threat of war would probably
have expedited their proceedings ; but there was an evident
disinclination on the part of the English Government to
engage in a hazardous contest for the sake of merchants. It
was some time before English statesmen were able to recognise
the value of the interests involved in commerce, or were en-
trusted with a force sufficient to give it that protection which it
deserves.
On July 4, after a long session, Parliament was prorogued
to November 10. The members of the Lower House would
July 4. thus be able to consider at their leisure the proposed
ofr<Parifa-on ^'"s wmcn wcre intended to complete the original
ment- scheme of the Commissioners for the Union. Of
James's real inclination to do what was best for both countries,
there can be no doubt whatever. In another difficulty which
had recently shown itself in England, his rare to do justice had
significantly asserted itself.
Before the prorogation took place he had been called upon
Di-tur- to deal with one of those tumults caused by the con-
abouTen- version of arable land into pasture, which had been
res- the root of so much trouble during the whole of the
preceding century. In the greater part of England the inevit-
1 Winw. ii. 320, 33S, 360, 367, 391, 410, 439 ; iii. 16.
1607 THE ENCLOSURES. 355
able change had been already accomplished. But in Leicester-
shire and the adjoining counties special circumstances still
caused misery amongst the agriculturists. In addition to the
sheep farms, which were still extending their limits, several
gentlemen had been enclosing large parks for the preservation
of deer. An insurrection broke out, the violence of which was
principally directed against park pales and fences of every de-
scription. It was easily SU] pressed, and some of the ringleaders
were executed. But the King gave special orders to a Com-
mission, issued for the purpose of investigating the cause of
the disturbances, to take care that the poor received no injur)
by the encroachments of their richer neighbours. As no
further complaints were heard, it may be supposed that his
orders were satisfactorily carried out.1
Undoubtedly, however, James's mind was more fully occu-
pied with the progress of the Union than with the English en
;.,. closures. In August, the Scottish Parliament nut
t/uS'r',-'1 an^ assented to the whole of the King's scheme, with
ceeded with, the proviso that it should not he put in action till
similar concessions had been made in England. It is doubt
ful whether the English Parliament, if it had met in November,
would have been inclined to reciprocate these advances. At
all events, before the day of meeting arrived, James resolved \<>
avail himself of the known opinion, of the judges, to obtain
■rmal declaration from them of the right of th< Post nan
to naturalisation without any Act of Parliament whatever.
A further pn d any danger oi a pro
I ommons till the deci ion oi the judges was n
known.
In the autumn of 1607, thei
purchased in tin- name ol Robert Colvill,3 an infant 1 1
Edinburgh in 16 and an action was brought in his nam.
against two persons who were supposed to have deprived him
of his land. At the same time, a suit \ titUti d in ( ham
1 There are several letters an e Hatfield AfSS. showing
King's anxiety on behalf of the pool in thi flair.
-' Known ;i- Calvin in the English lawbooks. He wi ■ p
Lord Colvill of Culross, whose family name \va> ofter - ritten Colvin,
A A 2
356 THE POST-NAT I. CH. VIII.
against two other persons for detaining papers relating to the
June, 160S. ownership of the land. In order to decide the case,
nattadmitted ^ was necessary to know whether the child were not
i maturaiisa- an alien, as, if he were, he would be disabled from
tion by the ' '
judges. holding land in England. 1 he question of law was
argued in the Exchequer Chamber, before the Chancellor and
the twelve judges. Two only of the judges argued that Colvill
was an alien ; the others, together with the Chancellor, laid
down the law as they had previously delivered it in the House
of Lords, and declared him to be a natural subject of the King
of England.1
It is certain that James had no expectation that this
decision of the judges would prove a bar to the further con-
sidereration of the Union by Parliament. In Decem-
TheVing7 ker, ne consulted Hobart, the Attorney-General, on
looks for- tne extent 0f the divergency between the laws of
ward to a ° J
union of the two nations. He was agreeably surprised by
laws. try
Hobart s report. If there was no more difference
than this, he said, the Scotch Estates would take no more than
three days to bring their law into conformity with that of
England.2
No doubt, James exaggerated the readiness of the Scotch
Estates to change their law. When he had obtained the
judgment of the Exchequer Chamber in his favour,
Nothing he found that it was hopeless to expect that the
English Parliament would give way on the Com-
mercial Union. From the first they had been set
against it, and it was not likely that they would change their
minds after the question of naturalisation had been decided
in defiance of their expressed wishes. Parliament was pro
rogued, and it was some time before it was allowed to meet
again.
There are occasions, which from time to time arise, when
progress can only be effected in defiance of a certain amount
of popular dissatisfaction, and it may be that this was one of
1 State Trials, ii. 559. There are also notes of the judgments in .V. /'.
Doni. xxx. 40, and xxxiv. 10.
- Lake to Salisbury, Dec. 8, Hatfield MSS. 194, 29.
l6o8 THE UNION ABAXDOXED.
357
them. But every attempt to move forward in such a way is
accompanied by some amount of friction, and there had already
been too much friction in the relations between James and the
House of Commons. The King wished to act fairly, but he
had too little sympathy alike with the best and the worst
qualities of the race which he had been called to govern, to
wurk in harmony with his subjects.
358
CHAPTER IX.
THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND.
The efforts made by James to assimilate the institutions of
England and Scotland had been crowned with a very moderate
amount of success. In pursuing the same policy in Ireland,
he was likely to meet with even greater difficulties. The stage
of civilisation which had been reached by Ireland, was so very
different from that to which England had attained, that the
best intentions of a ruler who did not sufficiently take into
account this difference were likely to lead only to greater
disaster.
The causes which had made the possession of Ireland a
weakness rather than a strength to England were not of any
recent growth. The whole history of the two countries had
been so dissimilar, that it would have been strange if no dis-
putes had arisen between them.
Both countries had submitted to a Norman Conquest, but
the process by which England had been welded into a nation
only served to perpetuate the distractions of Ireland.
iestof To the astonishment of their contemporaries, the
great-grandchildren of the invaders sank, except in
the immediate neighbourhood of Dublin, into the savage and
barbarous habits of the natives. The disease under which
England had suffered during the evil days of the reign of
Stephen became the chronic disorder of Ireland. Every man
whose wealth or influence was sufficient to attract around him
a handful of armed men, was in possession of a power which
knew no limits except in the superior strength of his neigh-
1 169-1529 THE ENGLISH IN IRELAND. 359
bours. Every castle became a centre from whence murder,
robbery, and disorder spread over the wretched country like a
flood. Against these armed offenders no law was of any avail,
for no authority was in existence to put it in execution. In
adopting the lawlessness of the natives, the descendants of the
invaders also adopted their peculiarities in dress and manners.
The English Government complained in vain of what they
called the degeneracy of their countrymen. The causes of
this degeneracy, which were so dark to them, are plain enough
to us. lietween the conquest of England and the conquest of
Ireland there was nothing in common but the name. The army
differedfrom of William was obliged to maintain its organization
. after the Conquest, as the only means by which the
I jlish nation could be kept in check ; and in the
Middle Ages organization and civilisation were identical. In
Ireland no such necessity was felt No Irish nation, in the
proper sense of the word, was in existence. There were
numerous septs which spoke a common language, and whose
customs were similar; but they were bound together by no
political tie sufficiently extensive to embrace the whole island,
nor were they united by any feelings of patriotism. Each pettj
chief, with In . littl 1 nol of armi d foil iwei :, wa ■ ready enough
to repel invasion from his own soil, but he was by no means
1st his neighbour against the common enemy. If
lit.- h ! m the < onflii t al all, he would probably be
not unwillii the 1 1 of the rival sept humbled by
the powi ! ind.
There was, therefore, amidst the general disunion of the
1 no ■ motivi to indu< e the < onqui rors to mam
, • dn what organization nay have brought with
them. Mo fear of an) general rising urged them to
hold firm!) r. In some parts oi the 1 ountry,
mdeed, the native chieftains n ained then- ancient po
sions. Su< h cases, however, were oi lo< al im]
tarn ■. A 1 ild or a Bourke did not fi 1 I hims< It l< is
strong in his own castle be< ime inferior lord had
his lands. ( )n the other hand, it" the ( >'N< ill or the ( >'l >onnell
Id hold his own at home, he did not trouble him elf about
360 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. ix.
the fate of the other septs of the neighbourhood. It mattered
little to the unfortunate peasants, who tended their cattle over
the bogs and mountains, from which race their oppressors came.
Everywhere bloodshed and confusion prevailed, with theii usual
attendants, misery and famine.
The only chance of introducing order into this chaos was
the rise of a strong central government. But of this there did
not seem to be even the most distant probability.
Want of a ' .
central go- 1 he power of the Lord-Deputy was only sufficient
vernment. . , . , , . .. ... -
to maintain order in the immediate vicinity of
Dublin ; and the King of England wanted both the will and
the means to keep on foot, at the expense of the English
nation, a force sufficiently large to overawe his disorderly sub-
jects in Ireland. Occasionally a spasmodic effort was made to
reduce Ireland to submission by an expedition, conducted either
by the King in person, or by one of the princes of the blood.
But the effects of these attempts passed away as soon as the
forces were withdrawn, and at last, when the war of the Roses
broke out, they ceased altogether.
Unfortunately, what efforts were made, were made altogether
in the wrong direction. Instead of accepting the fact of the
Measures to gradual assimilation which had been working itself
degeneracy out between the two races, the Government, in its
English in dislike of the degeneracy of the descendants of the
Ireland. settlers, attempted to widen the breach between
them and the native Irish. Statutes, happily inoperative, were
passed, prohibiting persons of English descent from marrying
Irish women, from wearing the Irish dress, and from adopt-
ing Irish customs. If such statutes had been in any degree
successful, they would have created an aristocracy of race,
which would have made it more impossible than ever to raise
the whole body of the population from the position in which
they were.
The only hope which remained for Ireland lay in the rough
surgery of a second conquest. But for this con-
1 he second ,, .
conquest of quest to be beneficial, it must be the work not of a
new swarm of settlers, but of a Government free from
the passions of the colonists, and determined to enforce equal
1529-1598 THE DEFEAT ON THE BLACKWATER. 361
justice upon all its subjects alike. The danger which England
incurred from foreign powers in consequence of the Reforma-
tion, compelled the English Government to turn its attention
to Ireland. That Ireland should form an independent kingdom
was manifestly impossible. The only question was, whether
it should be a dependency of England or of Spain. Unhappily
Elizabeth was not wealthy enough to establish a govern-
ment in Ireland which should be just to all alike. Much
was left to chance, and brutal and unscrupulous adventurers
slaughtered Irishmen and seized upon Irish property at
random.
Ireland was governed by a succession of officials whose term
of office was never very long. As is generally the case under such
umstances, there were two distinct systems of government,
which were adopted in turn. One Lord-Deputy would attempt
lie the country through the existing authorities, whether ol
native or of English descent. Another would hope to establish
the government on a broader basis by ignoring these authorities
as far as possible, and by encouraging their followers to
make themselves independent. Sir William lit/
nment ....
ofsirw. Williams, who was appointed I'eputv in 15.S6, made it
illiamf. ,t ... _ , . .,
the mam object of Ins policy to depress the native
chiefs. Tins was in itself by far the more promising polii \ of
the two, but it required tO be carried OUf with pel uliar di
tion, and, above all, it could only be iful in the hands of
a man whose love of justice and fair dealing was above suspicion.
Unfortunately this was not the case with the Deputy, lb
guilty of the basest perfidy in and imprisoning some of
'I"- chiefs, and he n<»t only accepted bribes from them, but
had the meannt , not to perform In ol tin bargain, for
whi( h In- had taken payment. Su< h 1 onduci as this
was not likely to gain the aflo tionsol any part ol the
population. The spirit ol mi tm .t ipn ad further undi
ive Deputii . till in 1598 thi thai an Engli h 1 •
had been defeat d at the BUu kwatei ion ed the whole ,,l lie
land to revolt. Never had any Jn.h rebellion assumed sn<h
formidable proportions, 01 approai hed 10 n.ai-ly to the dignity
ol a national resistance. At the head of the rebellion were the
xi.z THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. ix.
.'
two great chiefs of the North, the O'Neill and the O'Donnell,
who now threw off the titles with which Elizabeth had decorated
them, in the hope that they would be objects of more venera-
tion to their countrymen under their native appellations than
as Earls of Tyrone and Tyrconnell. A considerable
army was despatched from England to make head
aeainst them, but Elizabeth insured the failure of her own forces
by intrusting them to the command of Essex.
His successor, Charles Blount, Lord Mount joy, was a
Deputy of a very different character. He was known among
the courtiers as a man of studious disposition, and
M^untjoy in was considered as little likely to distinguish himself
in active life. Elizabeth, however, with the discern
ment which rarely failed her, excepting when she allowed her
feelings to get the mastery over her judgment, selected him for
the difficult post. It would have been impossible to find a man
more fit for the work which lay before him. Unostentatious
and conciliatory in manner, he listened quietly to every one's
advice, and after weighing all that had been advanced, formed
bis own plans with an insight into the real state of affairs of
which few others were capable, even in that age of statesmen
and captains. His designs, when once formed, were carried
out with a resolution which was only equalled by the vigour of
their conception.
When Mountjoy landed in Ireland, he could scarcely com-
mand a foot of ground beyond the immediate vicinity of the
1600. Queen's garrisons. In three years he had beaten
Feb. 25. down all resistance. A large Spanish force, which
had come to the assistance of the insurgents, had been com-
pelled to capitulate. The Irish chiefs who had failed to make
their peace were pining in English dungeons, or wandering as
exiles, to seek in vain from the King of Spain the aid which
that monarch was unable or unwilling to afford. The system
by which such great results had been accomplished was very
different from that which had been adopted by Essex. Essex
had gathered his troops together, and had hurled them in a
mass upon the enemy. The Irish rebellion was not sufficiently
organized to make the most successful blow struck in one
1600 MOUNT/0 Y IN IRELAND. 363
quarter tell over the rest of the country, nor was it possible to
maintain a large army in the field at a distance from its base
of operations. Mountjoy saw at a glance the true character of
the war in which he was engaged. He made war upon the
Irish tribes more with the spade than with the sword. By
degrees, every commanding position, every pass between one
district and another, was occupied by a fort. The garrisons
were small, but they were well-provisioned, and behind their
walls they were able to keep in check the irregular levies of a
whole tribe. As soon as this work was accomplished, all real
power of resistance was at an end. The rebels did not dare
to leave their homes exposed to the attacks of the garrisons.
ttered and divided, they fell an easy prey to the small but
compact fone of the J teputy, which marched through the whole
breadth of the land, provisioning the forts, and beating down
all opposition in its way.
The war was carried on in no gentle manner. Mountjoy
was determined that it should be known that the chiefs were
_ .,, without power to protect their people against the
H nble ,. 11 1 1 «t
character of ( joverninent. He had no scruple as to the means
by which this lesson was to be taught. Famine or
submission was the only alternative offered. The arrival of an
E dish force in a district was not a temporary evil which
Id be avoided by skulking for a few weeks in the bogs and
forests which covered bo large a portion of the surface of the
otry. Wherever it appeared, the crops were mercili
troyed, and the cattle, which formed the chief part of an
Irishman'-, wealth, were driven away. Then, when the work
of destruction was completed, the troops moved off, to renew
then It is impossible to « al< date the
numbers which perished under this pitiless mod,- ol warfare.
1 :'i Cape Clear to the Giant1 I ray, famine reigned
supreme. Strange stories were told by the trooper, ol the
tes which they had witnessed. Sometimes their hoi
were stabbed by the starving Irish, who wi t to i<
upon tl In one place tiny were shocked by the
unburied corpses rotting in the fields. In another, they d
covered a band of women who supported a wreti 1 'Mice
364 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. IX.
by enticing little children to come amongst them, and massac-
ring them for food.
Before the spring of 1603, all was over. In the south, Sir
George Carew, the President of Munster, had reduced the whole
country to submission.1 In the north, the Lord
Submission Deputy himself had been equally successful. On
April 8, Tyrone came in to make his submission,
and with him all resistance in Ulster was at an end, O'Donnell
having died at Simancas in the preceding autumn. When
Tyrone arrived in Dublin, he was met by the news of the death
of Elizabeth. The letter announcing her decease arrived in
Ireland on the 5th. Within an hour after Mountjoy had
read it, King James was proclaimed through the streets of the
capital.2
The Deputy had achieved the difficult task which had been
laid upon him. He had no desire to grapple with the still
Mountjoy more difficult questions which were now pressing for
re'u'm ',' solution. Enormous as had been the results which
England. )lc ]iaci accomplished, the organization of his con-
quest into a civilised community required still greater labour
and thought, and demanded the exercise of powers of a very
aifferent order. He himself was desirous to return to his
country with the honours which he had acquired, and to leave
to others the difficulties which were rising around him. He
was drawn in the same direction by the unhallowed ties which
bound him to Lord Rich's wife. The first petition which he
made to the new sovereign was a request to be relieved from
his office.'
before he received an answer, he was called away to repress
commotions which had arisen in an unexpected quarter. For
some time, the inhabitants of the seaport towns had felt con-
1 On March 26 Balingnrry was the only castle which still held out.
Wilmot to Carew, March 26, Irish Col. i. 6. The reference is to the
Calendar of Irish State Papers by Messrs. Russell and Prendergast, where
the proper reference to the original documents will be found.
- Mountjoy to the Council, April 6, ibid. i. 10.
3 Memorial enclosed in Mountjoy's letter to the Council, April 6,
l6oj, ibid, i. 11.
1603 CORK AND UATERFORD. 365
siderable dissatisfaction with the proceedings of the Govern-
ment. Their grievances were very different from those
, the which gave rise to the discontent of the great chiefs
and their followers. The chiefs knew well that the
efforts of the Government at Dublin would be exerted in favour
of their dependents, and that every advantage gained by the
population over which they ruled, would diminish their own
excessive and arbitrary power. They hated the English, there-
fore, with the hatred with which an abolitionist is regarded by
a slave-owner. But the disaffection which prevailed in Cork
and Waterford is to be traced to a different origin. It was not
that the tendencies of the Government were too far advanced for
the towns, but that they were themselves too far advanced for
the Government under which they were living. They occupied
in Ireland the same position as that which is now occupied in
India by the non-official English. The general circumstances
of the country required a strong executive, and it was necessary
that the executive should determine questions which were
absolutely unintelligible to the merchants of the towns. Yet
though it was impossible to give them that influence over the
Government of Ireland which was exercised by the citizens of
London and Plymouth over the Government of England, it was
inevitable thai the weight of the Deputy's rule should press
hardly upon them.
That tin- Government should act wisely upon all occasions
was not to I.. ted. A blunder which had laid)' been
committed, with the most excellent intentions, had
•ices, given rise to well-founded complaints. In order
1 tarve out the rebels, it had been proposed that
the coinage should be debased, and that this deb;
; should !• mgeable in London tor good money by
those who obtained a certificate of their loyalty from the Irish
ernment Am tion, Elizabeth gave iri to 1
scheme. The Irish, or 'harp,' shillings, as they were called,
always been worth only ninepenci m English money.
Shillings were now coined which were worth no more than
threepence. It was supposed that if they fell into the hands of
rebels, they would be worth no more than their own intrinsic
366 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CK. IX.
value, whereas in the hands of loyal subjects they would bear the
value which they would command in London. As might have
been foreseen, this proved to be a mistake. Even if the
English Exchequer had made its payments with the regularity
with which payments are now made at the Bank of England,
the necessity of obtaining an order from the Government
at Dublin, and of sending to England for the good coin,
would have depreciated the new currency far below its nominal
value. But such were the difficulties thrown in the way of
those who wished to obtain payment from the impoverished
Exchequer, that the currency soon fell even below the value
which it really possessed. The misery caused by this ill-con-
sidered scheme spread over all Ireland. Government payments
were made in the new coinage at its nominal value. The
unhappy recipients were fortunate if they could persuade any-
one to accept as twopence the piece of metal which they had
received as ninepence. Gentlemen were forced to contract
their expenditure, because it was impossible to obtain money
which would be received by those with whom they dealt.1 But
whilst the rebels, against whom the measure was directed, felt
but little of its effects, the greatest part of the evil fell upon the
townsmen, whose trade was interrupted by the irregularity of
the currency.
In addition to the evils caused by this unfortunate error,
some of the towns complained of the presence of soldiers, who
The garri- were m garrison either within their walls or in their
.'ibie immediate neighbourhood. It was necessary that
to the towns. the Government should have the command of the
ports by which foreign supplies might be introduced into the
country. Garrisons were accordingly maintained in the port-
towns, and soldiers were occasionally billeted upon the inhabi-
tants. The presence of a garrison was by no means desirable
in days when soldiers were levied for an uncertain term of
service, and when, consequently, armies were composed, far
more than at present, of men of a wild and reckless character.
1 Lord .Slane, for instance, was obliged to send for hi? son, who was
being educated in England, on account of his inability to maintain him.
blane to Cecil, March 24, 1603, S. P. Pel. i. 4.
1603 THE IRISH CHURCH. 367
But even if the soldiers had been models of order and sobriety,
they could not have failed to be disagreeable to the citizens,
who knew that, in the presence of an armed force, what
liberties they had would wither away, and that their lives and
fortunes would be dependent upon the arbitrary will of the
Government. The feeling was natural ; but the time was not
yet come when their wishes could, with safety, be gratified.
The withdrawal of the English troops would have been the
signal for general anarchy, in which the citizens of the towns
would have been the first to suffer.
To these causes of dissatisfaction was added the religious
difficulty. Protestantism had never been able to make much
The wa)' >n Ireland. In large districts the mass of the
s'?,r people were living in a state of heathenism. Where -
itanu. Cvcr there was any religious feeling at all, the peo
had, almost to a man, retained their ancient faith. Even if
other causes had predisposed the Irish to receive the new
■rines, the mere fact that Protestantism had (nine in under
the auspices of the English Government would have been
sufficient to mar its prospects. In general, the Irish in the
ntry districts were allowed to do pretty much as they
liked; but in the towns, though the Catholics were permitted to
abstain from attending the < hun lies, the ( hui' hes them 1 lv<
were in the hands of tin- Protestant clergy, and the Catholii
priests wet> I 1 pi rform their fun< tier in private.
m, which had loir.1 been smouldering, broke
out into a (lame ev< n before the death of Elizabeth. A
1 ompan; Idii 1 - w red to < 'oik, to assist
in building a new fort on the south side of the town.
sir Charles Wilmot and Sir G 1 e Thornton, who, in the
absent e of Sir G I ■ ■ . 1 ecuted thi offi< e ot Presid
of Mm warrant to the mayor to lodge thi m in the
I he mayor was induced by the n 1 order, John Mi ad, a
great opponent of the English, to shut 11 in their fa<
The soldi, i din forcing their way into thi city,
were compelled to pass the night in a church. In reporting
these occurrences to the President, the Commissioners had
to add that the corporation had torn down the pi tion
368 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. ix
ordering the use of the base coinage, that the citizens had
closed their shops, and that they had refused to sell their goods
unless they were paid in good coin.1
Upon receiving the news of the Queen's death, the mayor,
after some hesitation, published the proclamation of the
„. accession of the new King.2 On April 13, he wrote
Disputes , r 1- t 1
between the to Mountjoy, complaining of the disorderly conduct
ancPthe " of the soldiers at the fort of Haulbowline, which
guarded the entrance to the upper part of the
harbour. He requested that the fort might be intrusted to the
care of the corporation. A few days later the citizens demanded
the restoration of two pieces of ordnance which had been
carried to Haulbowline without the licence of the mayor, and
threatened that, unless their property were surrendered to
them, neither munitions nor provisions should pass into the
fort. The garrison agreed to give up these guns, on condition
that two others which were lying in the town, and which were
undoubtedly the property of the King, should be surrendered
in exchange. At first the mayor, hoping to starve out the
garrison, refused ; but upon the introduction of provisions
from Kinsale, the exchange was effected.''
.Meanwhile Mead was doing his utmost to incite the neigh-
bouring cities to make a stand for liberty of conscience, and
Proposed f°r the restoration of the churches to the old religion.
At Cork, on Good Friday, priests and friars passed
towns. once more through the city in procession. They
were accompanied by the mayor and aldermen, and by many
of the principal citizens. In the rear came about forty young
men scourging themselves.4 At Waterford the Bibles and
1 Wilmot and Thornton to Carew, March 24, enclosing Captain
Flower's relation, Irish Cal. i. 2.
- Mayor of Cork to Mountjoy, April 13, enclosed by Mountjoy to
Cecil, April 26, Irish Cal. i. 40 ; Annals of Ireland, Ilarl. MSS. 3544.
This MS. contains the earlier portion of Farmer's work, of which the later
pait only is printed in the Desiderata Curiosa Hibemica. He seems to
have been an eye-witness of the scenes at Cork.
3 Koyle to Carew, April 20, Irish Cal. i. 36.
A The description of the scene by the author of the Annals is a good
specimen of the manner in which these ceremonies were regarded by the
l6o3 MOUXTJOY AT KILKENNY. 369
Books of Common Prayer were brought out of the cathedral
and burnt. At Limerick, Wexford, and Kilkenny mass was
openly celebrated in the churches.
The magistrates of these towns felt that they were not
strong enough to carry out the undertaking which they had
commenced. They accordingly wrote to the Deputy, excusing
themselves for what had been done.1
Mountjoy was by no means pleased with the work before
him. He wrote to Cecil that he was determined to march at
once against the towns, but that he knew that if they resisted
he should have great difficulty in reducing them. His army
could only sub.>i>t upon supplies from England, and he had
never been worse provided than he was at that moment. He
had in his time 'gone through many difficulties,' and he hoped
to be able v to make a shift with this.' The condition of the
currency was causing universal discontent ; the base money was
everywhere refused. He knew 'no way to make it current '
where he was ' but the cannon.' He hoped soon to be relieved
of his charge. He had 'done the rough work, and some other
must polish it.' 2
The Deputy left Dublin on the 27th. He took with him
eleven hundred men. On the 29th he was met by the Earl "l
April n- *)nnond- At the same time, the chief magistrate of
Mount Kilkenny came to make his submission, and to at
lies .. . . .
tribute the misconduct of the citizens to the persua
siona of Dr. White, a young priest from Waterford.
The Deputy pardoned the town, and passed on to Waterford
On May 1 he encamped within three miles of the city, lit
met by a deputation demanding toleration, and requesting
1 im not to enter the town with a largi i number oi soldiers than
the magistrates should agree to admit, [n support ol this re
it, they produ< ed a < harter granted to them by K ing John,
The clause upon which they relied granted it as a privilege to
the town of Waterford, that the Deputy should not, without
ordinary Protestant H<- take* care t<> mention that the scourgem did
Dot strike themselve too hard.
1 Mountjo] to < ecil, April 20, frith ('■?/. i. 40.
c Mountjoy to Cecil, April 25, ibid. i. 38.
VOL. I. B l;
370 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. ix.
their consent, bring within their walls any English rebels or
Irish enemies. Mountjoy, of course, refused to be bound by
any such clause as this. Next day he crossed the Suir, and
approached the town. Dr. White came to him to try the effect
of his arguments. The Deputy pushed him with the usual
question, whether it was lawful to take arms against the King
for the sake of religion. On White's hesitating to answer,
Mountjoy replied in language which now sounds strange in
our ears, but which in those days truly expressed the belief
with which thousands of Englishmen had grown up during the
long struggle with Rome. " My master," he said, " is by right
of descent an absolute King, subject to no prince or power
upon earth, and if it be lawful for his subjects upon any cause
to raise arms against him, and deprive him of his Royal au-
thority, he is not then an absolute King, but hath only pre-
tarium imperium. This is our opinion of the Church of
England."
In the evening the gates were thrown open. Mountjoy
delivered to the marshal for execution one Fagan,
ofWater°n who had been a principal fomenter of the disturb-
ances ; but even he was pardoned at the intercession
of his fellow-townsmen.1
Wexford submitted, upon a letter from the Deputy.2 Sir
Charles Wilmot, hurrying up to Cork from Kerry, had secured
Disturbance Limerick on his way.3 From Cork alone the news
at Cork. was unsatisfactory. On April 28, the citizens dis-
covered that Wilmot was intending to put a guard over some of
the King's munitions which were within the city. A tumult
ensued, and the officers in charge of the munitions were put in
prison. The word was given to attack the new fort, which was
still unfinished. Eight hundred men threw themselves upon
the rising walls, and almost succeeded in demolishing the gate-
house before Wilmot had time to interfere. Wilmot, who had
no desire to shed blood, ordered his soldiers not to fire. As
1 Mountjoy and the Irish Council to the Council, May 4 ; Mountjoy
to Cecil, May 5, Irish Cal. i. 48, 53. llarl. MSS. 3544.
2 Mountjoy to Cecil, May 4, Irish Cal. i. 49.
3 Wilmot to Carew, May 7, 1603, ibid. i. 59.
1603 MOUNTJOY AT CORK. 371
soon, however, as the townsmen began firing at them, it was
impossible to restrain them any longer. Discipline asserted
its power, and the citizens were driven headlong into the town.1
Wilmot and Thornton threw themselves into the Bishop's house,
where they awaited the Deputy's arrival. Whilst there they
were exposed to the fire from the guns of the city, but no great
damage was done.
On Mountjoy's arrival, the city immediately submitted.2
All resistance in this ill-calculated movement was at an \:x\(\.
Submission The rebels were treated with leniency. Three only
of the leaders were executed by martial law. Mead,
the- principal instigator of the rebellion, was reserved for trial.
If, however, Mountjoy expected that the most convincing
evidence could obtain a conviction from an Irish jury, he-
was mistaken. At the trial, which took place at Youghal in the
following December, the prisoner was acquitted. The jurymen
were summoned before the Castle Chamber at Dublin, the
Court which answered to the English Star Chamber, and were
heavily fined. They were forced to appear at the sessions which
were being held at Drogheda with papers round their heads,
which stated that they had been guilty of perjury. This 0 hi
bition was to lie repeated at the next sessions held at Cork
amongst their friends and neighbours. They were also Cull
(1. inned to imprisonment during the pleasure of the Govern
inent.3
His work being thus successfully brought to a conclusion,
Mountjoy received permission to leave his post. On his arrival
in England, In- was created Earl of Devonshire, and
admitted to the Privy Couti.il. As a special reward
for his services, he obtained the honorary title of Lord Lieu-
nt of Ireland, to \\ln< h a considerable nvenue was attached.
During the few remaining years of his life, he continued to de
1 Walley to Carew, May 6, trish Cal. i. 55. Lady Carew, who was
in the neighbourhood, showed no si^ns r,f timidity, She U^an a !• .
lo her husband with these words, " Here 1 great wan with Cork, and 1
am not afraid," May 5, 1603, .V. /'. 1,(1. 54.
- Mayor of Cork lo Cecil, May 26, Irish Cal. i. 67.
1 ffarl. M.ss. 3544. Carey to Cecil, A| ril 26, 1604, Irish Cal. i. 240.
BBP
372 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. IX,
vote much attention to the affairs of Ireland, and carried on
a constant correspondence with the Deputies who succeeded
him. His last years were not happy. Shortly after his arrival
in England, Lady Rich left her husband, and declared that
Devonshire was the father of her five children. Upon this
Lord Rich obtained a divorce, and on December 26, 1605, she
was married to the Earl of Devonshire by his chaplain, William
Laud, who was afterwards destined to an unhappy celebrity
in English history. The validity of the marriage was exceed-
ingly doubtful,1 and Devonshire himself only survived it a few
months.
The post of Deputy was at first given to Sir George Carey,
who had held the office of Treasurer-at-War. He, too, was
sir George anxious to return to England, and it is not unlikely that
Care>' his appointment was only intended to be of a tem-
appointed L * ' i i 1 i
Deputy. porary nature. One great reform marked the short
term of his office. No sooner was he installed than he pressed
the English Government to put an end to the miseries un-
avoidably connected with the depreciation of the currency.2
At first, half-measures were tried. Orders were given to the
Warden of the Mint to coin shillings which were to be worth
ninepence, whilst their nominal value was to be twelvepence.
The old base shillings, which in reality were worth only three-
pence, were expected to pass for fourpence.3 Against these
proceedings Carey immediately protested.4 He was
Thecurrency Plu , b, , . nJ T • , , •„•
restored. allowed to have his way. 1 he new Irish shillings
were declared by proclamation to be exchangeable, as they had
originally been, for ninepence of the English standard.8 It was
not however, till the autumn of the next year that the base
1 The Ecclesiastical Courts only pronounced divorces a mensd et thoro
for adultery, and parties so divorced were prohibited by the 107th Canon
from remarrying. The decree of the Star Chamber in the case of Rye v.
Fuljambe (Moore, 683) was on the same side of the question. On the
other hand Parliament had refused to consider such remarriages as felony
(1 Jac. I. cap. 2).
- Carey and Irish Council to the Council, June 4, Irish Cat. i. 71.
3 Proclamation, Oct. II, ibid. i. 146.
* Carey to Cecil, Oct. 14, ibid. i. 149.
5 Proclamation, Dec. 3, ibid. i. 170.
i6o4 LORD DEPUTY CHICHESTER. 373
money was finally declared to be exchangeable at no more than
its true value.1
At last Carey obtained the object of his wishes. In July
1604, leave of absence was granted him, which was followed, in
October, by his permanent recall.2
The man who was selected to succeed him was Sir Arthur
Chichester. A better choice could not have been made. He
possessed that most useful of all gifts for one who is
Appoint- * . , ,
mem of called to be a ruler of men — the tact which enabled
Chichester , . ,,..,., . j
,-y\ him to see at once the limits which were imposed
upon the execution of his most cherished schemes,
by the character and prejudices of those with whom he had to
deal. In addition to his great practical ability, he was supported
by an energy which was sufficient to carry him through even
the entangled web of Irish politics. Whatever work was set
before him, he threw his whole soul into it. He would have
been as ready, at his Sovereign's command, to guard an outpost
as to rule an empire. He had already distinguished himself in
the war which had just been brought to a conclusion. At an
earlier period of his life, he had commanded a ship in the great
battle with the Armada, and had served under Drake in his
last voyage to the Indies. He took part in the expedition to
Liz, and had served in France, where he received the honour
Of knighthood from the hands of Henry IV. Shortly after-
wards, when he was in command of a company in the garrison
1 1 nd, Elizabeth, at Cecil's recommendation, gave him an
appointment in Ireland. Mountjoy, who knew his worth, made
him Major ( ieneral of the Army, and gave him the governorship
rickfergus, from whence he was able to keep In sub
mission the whole of the surrounding country. The King's
letter,8 appointing < 'In. li. in to the va< ant office, was dated on
I >< tober 15, 100.}. Stormy weathi 1 di tained the bearer of his
1 Note in Cecil's hand to the ' M< monals for Ireland,' Aug. 20, 1C04,
S. P. I id. 324.
2 The King to < u«y, July 1 6. The King lo Carey and the In h
Council, Oct. 15, Irish Cat. i. 295, 361.
3 Account ol Sir A. Chichester, by Sir Faithful Fortescve, Printed
for private circulation, 1858.
374 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. i>^
1605.
commission at Holyhead for many weeks, and it was not till
February 3 that the new Deputy received the sword
of office.
Hopeless as the condition of the country might seem
to a superficial observer, Chichester saw its capabilities, and
felt confidence in his own powers of developing them. He
perceived at once the importance of the task. It was absurd
folly, he wrote a few months later, to run over the world in
search of colonies in Virginia or Guiana, whilst Ireland was
lying desolate. The reformation and civilisation of such a
country would, in his opinion, be a greater honour for the King
than if he could lead his armies across the Channel and could
reduce the whole of France to subjection.2
The difficulties under which Ireland laboured were social
rather than political. The institutions under which a large part
c . , of the soil was held in Ireland were those under
hocial con-
dition of which the greater part of the earth has at one time
„. ' or other been possessed. When a new tribe takes
Theory of *
landed possession of an uninhabited region, they generally
property. . . ,,,,.,, . .
consider the land which they acquire as the property
of the tribe. Private property in the soil is at first unknown.
A considerable part of the population support themselves by
means of the cattle which wander freely over the common pas-
ture-land of the tribe, and those who betake themselves to
agriculture have no difficulty in finding unoccupied land to
plough. As long as land is plentiful, it is more advantageous
to the agriculturist to be freed from the burdens of ownership.
When the soil has become exhausted by a few harvests, it suits
him better to move on, and to make trial of a virgin soil. As
population increases, the amount of land available for cultiva-
tion diminishes. To meet the growing demand, improved
methods of agriculture are necessary, which can only be put in
practice where the land has passed into private ownership.
In a large part of Ireland this change had not yet thoroughly
taken place. No doubt the chiefs, and other personages
• Bingley to Cranborne, Jan. 9, 1605, Irish Cal. i. 412 ; Harl MSS.
3544-
- Chichester to Salisbury, Oct. 2, 1605, Irish Cal. i. 545.
!6o5 IRISH TENURES. 375
favoured by the chiefs, held land with full proprietary rights.
But the bulk, of the lands were held under a form of territorial
communism, which was known to English lawyers
(custom of by the ill-chosen name of the Irish custom of gavel-
kind. Upon the death of any holder of land, the
chief of the sept was empowered, not merely to divide the in-
heritance equally amongst his sons, as in the English custom of
gavelkind, but to make a fresh division of the lands of the
whole tribe. Such a custom excited the astonishment of
English lawyers, and has ever since caused great perplexity to
all who have attempted to account for it. In all probability, it
was but seldom put in practice. The anarchy which prevailed
must have stood in the way of any appreciable increase of the
population, and when land was plentiful, the temptation to avail
themselves of the custom can hardly ever have presented itself
to the members of the sept. Meanwhile the tradition of its
existence kept up the memory of the principle that land belonged
to the sept, and not to the individuals who composed it.
When, therefore, the judges pronounced that the custom
was barbarous and absurd, and contrary to the common law of
England,1 which was now declared to be law over
demnedby the whole of Ireland, they put the finishing stroke to
the judges. ,iii-i 11 1
a system which the Irish were attached to by ties
of habit, though it is possible that by judicious treatment they
might have been easily persuaded to abandon it.
Sll< li a < hange, indeed, rooted as the old system was in the
habits of the people, required the utmost delil acy of treatment.
The difficulty which Clin luster was called upon to
titc confront was considerably increased by the conne<
tion which existed between the tenure of land and
the politic al ni titutions of the septs. Originally, no doubt, the
power of the chief was extremely limited j but limited as it
might I"', it was necessary that he should be a man ol lull
in order to preside over the assembly of the sept and to lead
its forces in the field. In Ireland, as in other parts of the
world, an attachment was formed in each tribe to one family ;
1 Davies' Reports. I lil. 3 Jac.
376 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. it.
but, a strictly hereditary succession being impossible, it became
the custom to elect as successor to the chief, the one amongst his
relatives who appeared best qualified to fulfil the functions ot
the office. The relative thus designated was called the Tanist.
The chief had originally been nothing more than the represen-
tative of the sept. In process of time he became its master.
The active and daring gathered round him, and formed his
body-guard. The condition of the Irish peasant, like that of
the English peasant before the Norman Conquest, grew worse
and worse. At the beginning of the seventeenth century, he
still held the theory that the land belonged to the cultivator.
Little, however, of the small amount of wealth which Irishmen
possessed consisted of cultivated land. Herds of cattle roamed
over the wide pasture-lands of the tribe, and when land was
worthless cattle were valuable. In time of war they fell into the
hands of the chief who captured them, and these he delivered
out to those whom he might favour. Those who received
them, who ' took stock ' of him, as the phrase went, were bound
to him as a vassal in feudal Europe was bound to his lord.
They were under obligation to support his cause, and to pay
him a certain rent in cattle or money. In law, the chief had
no right to anything more than to certain fixed payments. In
practice everthing depended upon the mere will of the chief .
and his arbitrary exactions appeared even in the guise of settled
customs, and obtained regular names of their own. Under the
name of coigne and livery, the chief might demand from the
occupier of the land support for as many men and horses as he
chose to bring with him. But, oppressive as such a custom was,
it was as nothing to the unrecognised abuses which were con-
tinually occurring. Under such a condition of things, it was
impossible for any salutary change in the tenure of land to be
effected. If the cultivators were to obtain any fixed interest in
the soil, it was necessary that the chiefs should obtain a similar
interest. They must cease to be chiefs, and they must become
landowners. As such, they must be led to take an interest in
their estates, which they could not feel as long as they only
held them for life. In other words, the custom of Tanistry
must be abolished.
j6o5 FREEHOLDERS TO BE ESTABLISHED. 377
The English Government had long been alive to the im-
portance of the alteration required. In 1570 an Act had been
The Govern- passed, establishing a form by which Irish lords might
w™boJuh>US surrender their lands, and receive them back to be
held under English tenure. In many cases this per-
mission had been acted upon. In other cases lands forfeited
by rebellion had been regranted, either to English colonists or
to loyal Irishmen. In every case the grants were made only
upon condition that the new lord of the soil should assign free-
holds to a certain number of cultivators, reserving to himself a
stipulated rent. By this transaction each party profited. The
new lord of the manor lost, indeed, with his independent
position, the privilege of robbing his followers at pleasure; but,
under the old system, the property of his followers must have
been extremely small, and, with the increasing influence of the
English Government, his chances of being able to carry out
that system much longer were greatly diminished. In return
for these concessions, he gained a certainty of possession, both
over the rents, which would now be paid with regularity, and
over the large domains which were left in his own hands, and
which would bo ome more valuable with the growing improve-
ment in the condition of the surrounding population. Above
all, he would be able to leave his property to his children.
The new freeholders would gain in everyway by the conversion
of an uncertain into a secure tenure. The weak point in the
arrangement lay in the omission to give proprietary rights to
every member of the Sept, so as to Compensate for his share ot
the tribal ownership, of which he was deprived. The precau
tion of building up a new system on the foundations of the old,
ly that saving virtue which the men of the seven-
teenth century were likely to ncglc t.
It was indeed with no ill will to the natives that the English
Government was animated. Even those who st -t in motion the
rule of the Council table and the Castle Chamber
■jnd to CX-
the were by no means desirous to extend unnecessarily
privileges of , . . , r.,,
Engiuh the functions of the central Government 1 hey
wished that Ireland should become the sister of
England, not her servant. The two countries were to be one,
378 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. IX.
as England and Wales were one, as it was hoped that, one day,
England and Scotland would be one. They were ready enough
to deal harshly with factious Parliaments, and to fine perjured
juries; but they did not imagine it possible to civilise the
country without all the machinery of freedom in the midst ot
which they had themselves grown up. The moment that they
saw any prospect of converting the wandering Irish into settled
proprietors, they were anxious to put the whole ordinary ad-
ministration of the country into their hands. The new free-
holders were to furnish jurymen, justices of the peace, and
members of Parliament. If they were called upon to perform
functions for which they were hardly fitted, at all events the
mistake was one upon the right side.
During the reign of Elizabeth, in spite of many errors, con-
siderable progress had been made. When Chichester entered
Progress upon his office, the greater part of Leinster was in
reUiSngofhe a settled and orderly condition. In the spring of
Elizabeth. 1604, assizes had been held in different parts of the
province, and it was found that the gentlemen and freeholders
were able to despatch business as well as persons of the same
Condition of condition in England.1 But even in Leinster there
Lemster, Were exceptions to the general tranquillity. The
counties of Carlow and Wexford were overawed by a band of
eighty or a hundred armed men, who found hiding-places for
themselves and a market for their plunder amongst the
Cavanaghs and the Byrnes. The latter sept, with that of the
Tooles, still possessed, after the Irish fashion, the hilly country
which is now known as the county of Wicklow, but which at
that time had not yet been made shire-ground.
In Munster there had been, during the late reign, great
changes in the ownership of the land. Many of the Irish
chiefs had been uprooted, and had given way either
to English colonists, or to Irishmen who owed their
position to the success of the English arms. Carew had been
succeeded, as President, by Sir Henry Brouncker, a man of
1 Davies to Cecil, April 19, 1604, Irish Cal. i. 236. He adds, "The
prisons were not very full, and yet the crimes whereof the prisoners stood
accused were for the most part but petty thefts."
:6c4 CONDITION OF THE COUNTRY. 379
vigour, who, though at times apt unnecessarily to provoke
opposition, succeeded in maintaining good order in the
province.
Connaught was, fortunately, in the hands of a nobleman
who, like the Earl of Thomond in Clare, was wise enough to
of Con- see where the true interests of himself and of his
naught, country lay. The Earl of Clanrickard was the
descendant of the Norman family of the Burkes or th; De
Burghs, which had been counted during the Middle Ages
amongst the degenerate English. At an early age he had
attached himself to the Government, and had remained con-
stant during the years when the tide of rebellion swept over
his patrimony, and seemed to offer him the fairest prospect of
obtaining on independent sovereignty. He was now invested
with the office of President of his own province. He exercised
the whole civil and military authority in Connaught, but in the
spirit of a dependent prince rather than in that of a subordinate
officer. The Deputy was contented to know that things were
going on well in that distant province, and prudently refrained
from exercising a constant supervision over the acts of the
President.
If Chichester could look upon the condition of Connaught
with complacency, it was far otherwise with regard to Ulster.
It was difficult to say how civilisation was to be in-
troduced into the northern province as long as bar-
barism was under the protection of the two great houses of the
. O'Neills and the O'Donnells, The head of the
,IIs- ( ) Neills, the Pari of Tyrone, had submitted OH con-
dition of receiving back his lands, with the exception of certain
which were to be held l>y tWO Of his kinsmen.1 The
1 .,;,.,. last O'Donnell had died in exile, and his earldom
of Tyrconnell was disputed between his brother Rory
and Neill Garv< ( PDonnell, a more distant relative. The latter
had taken the title of The O'Donnell, which was looked Upon
a, a sign of defection from the English Crown. 1 he progress
1 Henry Oge O'Neill and Tirln^h McIIenry. Note by Mcuntjoy,
April 8, 1603, Irish Cat. i. 16. Three hundred acres were also reserved
for the fori at Charlemont, and the same quantity for the fort of Mountjoy.
38o THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. IX.
of the war, however, made it plain that it would be impossible
for either of the kinsmen to maintain himself without English
aid. Upon Tyrone's submission, the competitors hastened to
seek the favour of the Government.1 Mountjoy at once
decided in favour of Rory. Not only was he the heir to the
earldom, according to English notions, but the character of his
rival was not such as to prepossess the Deputy in his favour.
Neill Garve was violent and ambitious, and was not likely to
prove a submissive subject.2 He was, however, indemnified
by the grant of a large extent of land in the neigbourhood of
Lifford, which had formerly belonged to the chief of the sept,
but which was henceforth to be held directly of the Crown.
The new earl received the remainder of the territory of his
predecessor, having agreed to give up any land which might be
needed by the Government for the support of garrisons. When
Mountjoy returned to England, he took the two earls with him.
They were well received by James, and returned with the full
assurance that the Deputy's promises should be fulfilled.
During their absence, the Chief Baron, Sir Edward Pelham,
went on circuit through Ulster. It was the first time that an
l6o3. English judge had been seen in the North, or that
The first the peasantry had ever had an opportunity of look-
circuit in * ' .
Ulster. ing upon the face of English justice. The results
were, on the whole, satisfactory. He reported that he had
never, even in the more settled districts near the capital, been
welcomed by a greater concourse of people. He found that
'the multitude, that had been subject to oppression and misery,
did reverence him as he had been a good angel sent from
heaven, and prayed him upon their knees to return again to
minister justice unto them.' When, however, he came to apply
to the more powerful inhabitants, he found that the fear of
Tyn^ne was still weighing heavily upon them. It was in vain
that he pressed them to allow him to enrol them in the com-
mission of the peace. They told him that it was impossible for
them to take such a step without the permission of their chief.3
1 Docwra to Mountjoy, April 8, 1603, Irish Cat. i. 20.
' Mountjoy to Cecil, April 25, 1603, ibid. i. 38.
8 Liavies to Cecil, Dec. 1, 1603, ibid, i. 169.
1603 CONDITION OF ULSTER. 3S1
The position which was occupied by the two earls could
not long continue. They were not strong enough to be in-
Positionof dependent, and they were too proud to be subjects.
uponYheir It was onb' a question of time when the inevitable
retum. quarrel between them and the Government would
break out. 'When Tyrone returned from England, he found
that the cultivators of the land would no longer submit to the
treatment which they had borne in silence for so many years.
As soon as he attempted to renew his old extortions, a num-
ber of them fled for refuge to the protection of the
TheGovera- English Government. Upon hearing what had hap-
ment refiua pened, he demanded their surrender. He was told
to surrender '
1 »ne'i that they were not his bondmen or villains, but the
King's free subjects.1 It was by his own choice that
he held back from holding his land by English tenure, and
giving himself fixed rights over his tenants. He must take
the consequenc es if they refused to submit to his irregular and
exorbitant demands.
Another question between the great Earl and the Govern-
ment arose from his refusal to allow the appointment of a
Hed»ciine«; sheriff in his county, as he justly regarded such a
:iit ;i measure as the first step towards sunersediiiLr his own
sheriff in l . .
Tyre rule by regular justice. At the same time, it must
be allowed that he showed .nmc activity in repressing thieves.
He even went so far as to hang a nephew of his own.8
In Donegal, Neill Garve was still master of the whole
IMllGarvi county in the spring of 1604. The new earl was
lying quiet within the 1'ale, ' very meanly followed.'
''•,',' In Fermanagh, open war was raging between two of
managh. tnc \Ja^uircs, who were equally discontented with
the share of land which had lately been allotted to them.
The military force upon which Chichester could rely was
not lar^e. Inland was a heavy drain upon the English
Thearmyin Treasury, and, with peace, the army had been con
irehnd. siderably reduced. The proportions in which these
troops were allotted to the different provinces, -show plainly
1 Davics to Cecil, April V), 1604, frisk Cat. i. 236.
2 Chichester to Cecil, June S, 1604, ibid. i. 279.
3S2 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. ix.
where the real danger lay. The whole army consisted of three
thousand seven hundred foot, and two hundred and twenty-
nine horse. Of the infantry, five hundred men were sufficient
to guard Connaught. Munster was held by nine hundred.
Six hundred kept order in the neighbourhood of Dublin, and
in the south of Leinster. Four hundred lay in Deny, and
thirteen hundred were posted in the long line of forts by which
Ulster was girdled round from Carrickfergus on St. George's
Channel, to Ballyshannon on the Atlantic.1 By these garrisons
the North of Ireland was held as in a vice.
In carrying out his plans Chichester had the assistance of a
council, composed of persons who had long served the Crown,
either in a civil or in a military capacity. They were
active and industrious in the fulfilment of their
duties ; but none of them were men who rose above the level of
an intelligent mediocrity. The only man of real ability, upon
whom he could rely, was the new Solicitor-General, Sir John
sir John Davies. He had arrived in Ireland towards the end
Davies. 0f x 603, and had at once thrown himself energetically
into the work of civilising the country. His honesty of purpose
was undoubted, and his great powers of observation enabled
him at once to master the difficulties which were before him.
The most graphic accounts which we possess of Ireland during
the time of his residence in the country are to be found in his
correspondence. He was indefatigable in his exertions. Far
more than any of the more highly-placed law officers, he con-
tributed to the decisions which were taken upon the legal and
political questions which were constantly arising. Unhappily,
his great powers were seriously impaired by one considerable
defect : to a great knowledge of institutions he joined a pro-
found ignorance of human nature. With him it was enough
that he had the law upon his side, if he was sure that the law
when carried out would be attended with beneficial conse-
quences. It never occurred to him to consider the weaknesses
and feelings of men, or to remember that justice is a greater
gainer when a smaller measure of reform is willingly accepted,
1 List of the Army, Oct. 1, 1604, Irish Cal. i. 352. Another state-
ment of the same date gives rather higher numbers.
l6o4 A DISARMAMENT ORDERED. 3S3
than when a larger improvement is imposed by force. He was
capable of becoming an excellent instrument in the hands of
such a man as Chichester ; but it might safely be predicted
that if ever he should be able to induce the English Govern-
ment to adopt a policy of his own, the most disastrous conse-
quences would ensue.
Chichester had taken formal possession of his office on
February 3, 1605. On the 20th he notified, by the issue of
two proclamations, that the Deputy's sword had not
mationTof" fallen into sluggish hands.1 The first began by rc-
rfenSSiion citing the abuses committed by the Commissioners
law<lnaeraifor *°r execut'ng Martial Law, and by revoking the
greater number of such commissions. The other
mem. .
proclamation was of far greater importance. Carey
had issued an order for a general disarmament, by which
alone it would be possible to maintain peace for any length of
time. He had ordered that persons travelling on horseback
should carry nothing more than a single sword, and that
persons travelling on foot should carry no arms at all. But
Carey had allowed his directions to remain a dead letter, e\-
cepting in Connaught where tiiey had been enforced by Clan-
rickard.2 Chichester now repeated these directions, and
ordered that all who contravened them should be imprisoned,
and their arms brought to the commander of the nearest fort.
In order to interest the rommanders in the seizure, it was
added that they should be rewarded with half the value of the
Confiscated arms. Exceptions were made in favour of gentlemen
of the Pale and their servants, of merchants following their
trade, of known householders within the Pale, and, finally,
of any loyal subject who might receive special permission to
carry arms.
March it, These proclamations were shortly followed l>y
;';;•;; another setting forth the prin< iples upon which the
nmnesty, government was to l»- carried on.8
Full pardon was at once granted for all arts Committed
1 Proclamations, Feb. 20, 1605, Irish Cat. i. 433, 434.
s Davies to Cecil, April 19, 1604, ibid. i. 236.
3 Proclamation, March II, 1605, ibid. i. 448.
384 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. IX.
against the Government before the King's accession. The
officers of the Government through whom the pardons passed
were forbidden to extort anything beyond the regular fees.1
No complaints of robberies or outrages committed before
November 1, 1602, were to be listened to. The proclamation
then turned to lay down, in plain and strong language, the
policy of the Government towards the mass of the
action Pto° population. The Deputy promised to receive all
the poor. pQor persons uncier the King's protection, ' to defend
them and theirs from the injuries, oppressions, and unlawful
exactions of the chief lords and gentlemen of the several
counties wherein they dwell, as also of and from the extortion
qnd violence of all sheriffs, escheators, purveyors, and all othei
officers, ministers, and persons whatsoever which have, or pre-
tend to have, any jurisdiction, authority, or power over them ;
and that as they are all His Highness' natural subjects, so will
His Majesty have an equal respect towards them all, and
govern them all by one indifferent law, without respect of
persons.'
Coming to particulars, the proclamation then noted several
abuses which prevailed. Since the rebellion, many lords and
Tenants to gentlemen had received grants of their lands, to be
'uthlTr'fuif he^ by the English tenure. The patents were full of
rights. iong phrases, as is usually the case with legal docu-
ments. These phrases had been interpreted by the landowners
as giving them full power over their dependents. They proceeded
to treat men whose ancestors had, as members of the sept, held
land for generations, as if they were now no more than mere
tenants-at-will. Another grievance was that the lords who re-
ceived their lands back after losing them by attainder, not find-
ing their tenants mentioned by name in the patents, pretended
that the attainder included the tenants, whilst the pardon did
not contain any reference to them at all. They inferred from
this, that they were still affected by the attainder, and that their
estates were now, by the new grant, vested in their lords. The
Deputy declared these interpretations to be contrary to the in-
1 A shilling in the case of a gentleman, and sixpence from any other
person.
i6o5 THE TENANTS TO BE PROTECTED. 3S5
tention of the grants. He also adverted to the arbitrary exac-
tions which were levied, under various high-sounding
exaction names, by the Irish lords. He declared that they
were nothing better than an organised system of
robbery. He told the lords that these proceedings were illegal,
and he enjoined upon them to let their lands at fixed rents.
Another source of complaint was that the lords still retained
powers in their hands which were inconsistent with the estab-
lishment of a settled government. It was therefore
None but . °
the legal necessary to inform them that they were no longer to
injuries to be have the power of arresting their tenants for debt, or
for any other cause, unless they were provided with
a lawful warrant issued by the ordinary ministers of justice.
They were not to levy fines on their tenants, excepting in such
ways as the law allowed, nor to remove their tenants from one
place to another against their will, nor to treat them otherwise
than as freemen.
The proclamation then proceeded to sum up the whole
substance of the English policy in the following words : — ' To
the end the said poor tenants and inhabitants, and
All Irishmen '
nrnedi- every one 'of them, may from henceforth know
and understand that free estate and condition wherein
they were born, and wherein from henceforth the)
shall all be continued and maintained, we do by this presenl
proclamation, in His Majesty's name, declare and publish, thai
.- and every' one • "i them, their wives and children, are
the free, natural, and immediate subjects of His Majesty, and
are not to be reputed 01 • ailed the natives,1 or natural follow
of any other lord or chieftain whatsoever, and that th<
every ' one ' of them, ought t<> di pend wholly and immediatel)
upon His Maji sty, who is both able and willing to prote< t them,
and not upon any other inferior lord or lords, and thai tl
may and shall from henceforth n I red thai no person or
persons wl er, by reason of any chiefry or seignory,
by 1 olour of any custom, use, ot pr< m ription, hath, <>i ought to
have, any interest in the bodies 01 goods of them, or any ol
1 i.r. M ■
VOL. I. C C
386 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. IX.
J-hem ; and that all power and authority which the said lords
of counties may lawfully claim or challenge is not belonging to
their lordships, chiefries, or seignories, but is altogether derived
from His Majesty's grace and .bounty, whereby divers of the
said lords have received, and do enjoy, their lands, lives, and
honours ; and that His Majesty, both can and will, whensoever
it seem good to his princely wisdom, make the meanest of his
said subjects, if he shall deserve it by his loyalty and virtue, as
great and mighty a person as the best and chiefest among the
said lords. Howbeit we do, in His Majesty's name, declare
and publish unto all and every the said tenants, or other in-
ferior subjects, that it is not His Majesty's intent or meaning
to protect or maintain them, or any of them, in any mis-
demeanour or insolent carriage towards their lords, but that it
is His Majesty's express pleasure and commandment, that the
said tenants and meaner sort of subjects, saving their faith and
duty of allegiance to His Majesty, shall yield and perform all
such respects and duties as belong and appertain unto the
said lords, according to their several degrees and callings, due
and allowed unto them by the laws of the realm.' '
The Deputy knew well that mere words were not sufficient
„ . , to carry out the noble policy which he had so deeply
Chichester . '. _ j- , j •, •
goes into at heart. He accordingly determined to go in person
into Ulster, accompanied by the Council and by some
of the judges.
At Armagh, he persuaded O'Hanlon, who was the
ceedings at chieftain in that part of the country, to surrender his
land, and to receive it under English tenure, upon
condition of making freeholders.
1 In a Memorial in the Cott. MSS. Tit. vii. 59, Chichester attributes
to himself the suggestion of this proclamation. He had, however, obtained
the King's consent before publishing it (see Chichester to Cranborne, March
12, Irish Cal. i. 450). Captain Philipps, in a letter to Salisbury (May 19,
ibid. i. 480), says that he published it in Antrim. "The people will
not endure any more wrongs of their chieftains and lords, but do pre-
sently search for redress, which they before durst never do, but were as
bondmen. ... As soon as I had the proclamation read among them there
were many which complained against their chieftains and lords."
1605 CHICHESTER IN ULSTER. 3S7
At Dungannon, he succeeded in inducing Tyrone to create
his younger sons freeholders. He was soon besieged with
at Dun- petitions from the gentlemen of the county, request-
gamr-.,, mg hjm t0 settle their differences with the earl. They
desired to have their property completely in their own hands,
and asserted that they had been freeholders beyond the
memory of man. Tyrone, who took a different view of Irish
tenure, declared that the whole country belonged to him.
Chichester, perhaps to avoid giving offence to either party, told
them that he had no time to consider the question then, but
took care to order that the land should remain in the possession
of the occupiers until his decision was given. From Dun-
gannon he passed on to Lifford, where he persuaded
,rd- the Earl of Tyrconnell and Neill Garve to submit
their claims to his arbitration. To Neill Garve he assigned
land to the extent of nearly thirteen thousand acres ; the rest
of the county was awarded to the earl. One exception was
made. The Deputy was particularly struck witli the situation
of Lifford, and reserved it, not without giving umbrage to
Tyrconnell,1 for the purpose of establishing a colony there.
The colony was to be composed of English and Scotch, and
was to have attached to it a sufficient quantity of land to sup
port the settlers, in order that they might not be dependent
upon trade. Chichester was also successful in persuading
Tyrconnell to create freeholders on his lands. Sir Cahir
O'Dogheity, the most important of the lords dependent upon
the earl, < onsented to adopt the same course in his own country
in the peninsula of Innishowen.
Bl idi thi u '■ win' h he made of his time in ^aininj^ over
,, . the great men of the North to ai < < U the new ordffl
He inspect . '
ihefortifica <>! things, the Deputy was a< tive in inspecting the
condition of the fortifications at the different forts,
and in holding assizes at the chief towns through which he
passed.
I'pon his return, Chichester sent a detailed report of his
proceedings to the Government He considered that he had
' Tyrconnell to Salisbury fSq>t. 30], Irish Cat. i. 539.
C C 2
388 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. IX.
made some way, though he had not accomplished all that he
could wish.1 A few days later, the dark side of the
Hi. report . ■ ' . .
to the Go- picture seems to have been uppermost in his mind.
One of his chief difficulties was that of obtaining per-
sons sufficiently independent to be fit for the office of justice of
the peace. No Irishman could, as yet, be expected to maintain
equal justice between rich and poor, and the Englishmen who
were at his disposal were, on account of the smallness of their
pay, liable to the temptation of bribery. The remedy that
occurred to him was the introduction of English and Scotch
colonists. The abbey lands, still in the King's hands in Ulster,
would put it into his power to introduce them without confis-
cating the property of a single Irishman.2
On his return to Dublin, Chichester found his attention
called to a very different subject. During the greater part of
Practical tne *ate re'Sn no attempt had been made to compel
toleration the Irish Catholics to attend the Protestant service.
QUJSf 's e There was indeed an Act in existence by which a
fine of one shilling was imposed for every time of
absence from church, but the impossibility of enforcing it over
the greater part of the country, and the imprudence of making
fresh enemies where it could have been imposed with less
difficulty, had prevented the Government from taking any steps
to put the law in force. In 1599, however, an attempt was
made to enforce the fine, but the design was soon given up,
greatly to the annoyance of the youthful Usher, who predicted
that God's judgments would fall upon a country where Popery
was allowed to exist unchecked.3 But with the submission of
1 Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, Sept. 30, Irish Cal.
i. 538.
2 Chichester to Salisbury, Oct. 2 and 4, ibid. i. 545, 548.
3 In preaching from Ezek. i. 6, he applied the forty years which arc
there spoken of to Ireland. ' From this year,' he said, 'will I reckon the
sin of Ireland, that those whom you now embrace shall be your ruin, and
you shall bear their iniquity.' It has been generally supposed that these
words were spoken in 1601, and they have been considered to have been
a prediction of the Rebellion of 164 1 ; but Dr. Elrington has shown that
the sermon cannot have been preached earlier than the end of 1602. —
t sher's Works (1847), i. 23.
1605 CHICHESTER IN ULSTER. 38 1
the whole island, a temptation was offered to those in power to
avail themselves of the means which were in their hands to
enforce attendance upon the services. They had a strong
feeling of the benefits which would result if the Irish could be
induced to accept the religion under which England had grown
in moral stature, and they had no idea of the evils which
attended the promulgation of truth itself by the strong hand of
power.
The strength of the old faith lay chiefly with the upper
classes of the principal towns, and with the inhabitants of the
, ,. . more (ivilised country districts. All those who would
Religious . '
ion of under a less centralised government have taken part
in the administration of affairs, clung to the tenets of
their ancestors as a symbol of resistance to foreign domination.
In the wilder parts of the country that domination was rapidly
becoming a blessing to the mass of the population, which was
only loosely attached to any religious system at all ; yet it may
well be doubted whether the impressionable Irish Celt would
ever have been brought to content himself with the sober re-
ligious forms which have proved tOO sober lor consider.!! il<
bodies of Englishmen.
h a doubt was not likely to make itself heard al the
lining of the seventeenth century. Shortly after the acCCS
sion of James, rumours reached Ireland thai he in-
tended to grant a general toleration. The Archbisho
of Dublin and the Bishop of Meath immediati
wrote tothe King, prot< jainsl sucha measure,
and entreating him to put some check upon 1
end ovi 1 good prea< hers, and to 1 ompel the people
to h hur< h.1
•a ho. at the beginning ol his reign, had suspended
the action of the Recusancy laws in England, took nonotici of
the first and l.i t ol these requ< I . bul signified his
ntion of plantii d ministry in Ireland.
It v. inly time that something should be done.
Excepting in the towns, scarcely anything worthy of the name
1 The Archbishop of Dublin and the Bishop of Meath to t!,c King,
June 4, 1603, Irish Cal 7
vor. 1.
3QO THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. IX.
of a church existed, and in the towns the preachers almost
universally failed in obtaining even a hearing.1 In the country
the condition of the Church was deplorable. It was generally
believed that the majority of the clergy were unable even to
read. During the times of anarchy, the livings had fallen into
an evil plight. It frequently happened that the patrons took
possession of a large part of the income of the benefice, whilst
they nominated, for form's sake, some illiterate person to the
vacant post. This nominee usually agreed before his institution
that he would be content with a mere fraction of his nominal
income. Cases were known in which grooms and horse-boys
held two or three benefices a-piece. Nor was this the worst.
Even bishops, who should have stemmed the tide of corruption,
took part in it themselves. Foremost in the ranks of these
episcopal pluralists stood the Archbishop of Cashel. In ad-
dition to his archiepiscopal see, he held three bishoprics and
seventy-seven other benefices. The infamous sale of promo-
tions which took place in his diocese became afterwards the
subject of a special inquiry. Hundreds of churches were lying
in ruins over the whole of Ireland. In hundreds of parishes
no divine service was ever celebrated, no sacrament adminis-
tered, no Christian assemblies held of any kind. Here and
there, to the disgust of the Government, a few benefices were
in the hands of Jesuits, and the Papal Nuncio obtained an
annual income of forty or fifty pounds from a living which he
held within the Pale.2 But these were exceptions. As a rule,
heathenism would have settled down over the whole face of the
country if it had not been for the ministrations of the Catholic
priests.
On his way to the North in the course of his first progress,
l6o. Chichester found the Cathedral at Armagh in ruins.
Chichester's There were dignitaries of various kinds, but all of
proceedings ° >
at Armagh, them had received ordination from the Church of
Rome, and held their posts in virtue of commissions from the
1 The Archbishop of Dublin and the Bishop of Meath to the Council,
March 5, 1604, Irish Cal. i. 223.
2 Davies to Cecil, February 20, 1604. Justice Saxey's Discourse
[1604], ibid. i. 213, 397.
1605 TREATMENT OF THE IRISH RECUSANTS. 391
Pope. They refused to use the English service. There was
attached to the church a college for twelve vicars choral, en-
dowed with tithes, but its revenues had been confiscated by the
dean without any lawful authority. It happened that the Arch-
bishop, who rarely visited his diocese, was in the Deputy's
company. Chichester ordered him to provide a minister for
the place, and directed that he should himself reside in Armagh
for at least three or four months in the year. The tithes which
had been so scandalously embezzled were, for the present, to
be employed in maintaining poor scholars at the College in
Dublin, till a sufficient number of educated men were provided
for the service of the Church.
As soon as he had reached Dublin, the Deputy found that
James had determined to make an attempt to drive the re-
cusants to church. On July 4, a proclamation had
Proclama- , J ' *
been issued by the King himself, commanding all
ancy persons in Ireland to repair to their several churches,
and directing that all priests who remained in the
country after December 10 should be banished.1 Directions
were also given, that all the judges were to attend the Protestant
services.
The Deputy, whose ideas on religious liberty were like those
of the mass of his contemporaries, prepared to carry out his
instructions. He sent for Sir John Everard, the
ard onlj one "I the judges who refused to conform, and
entreated him to give way, offering to allow him as
much time for consideration as he wished for. After
the lap . as he still refused to comply, he was finally
n movi d from his post9
t the recusants in general, the Deputy was furnished
With fewer weapons than those which were at the disposal Of
,;i,yin the Government in England. No Irish Act oi Pai
:i liament existed which authorised the exaction oi more
than a shilling for « very absen< e from 1 hun h. Un-
pily an id' .1 mi uiied, either to Chichester or t'> some ol his
1 Pro* tarnation, Irish Cal. i. 513.
■ Oi" ' ' and the Irish Council to the Council, Oct. 5. D&vil
Salisbury, I'cc. 5, ito6, ibid, i. 554, ii. 69.
392 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. ix.
advisers,1 by which he hoped to be able to supplement the
deficiency of the law. The elastic powers of the Castle Cham-
ber might be stretched to cover a less urgent case. Chichester
had set his heart upon the improvement of Ireland, and he was
firmly convinced that, without the spread of Protestantism, all
his efforts would be in vain, and he was too much in earnest to
wait for the operation of time. The shilling fine indeed might
drive the poor into submission, but it was ridiculous to expect
that it would have much effect upon a wealthy merchant or
shopkeeper. It was therefore necessary that stronger measures
should at once be taken.
In the course of the month of October, the aldermen and
several of the chief citizens of Dublin were summoned before
The Aider- the Council. The Deputy distinctly disclaimed any
DubHn desire to force their consciences. To change the
required to faith of any person was the work of God alone. But
attend J l
church. the matter now before them was not a question of
conscience at all. He merely asked them to sit in a certain
place for a certain time. They were only required to listen to
a sermon. They need not profess assent to the doctrines
which they heard. It was a mere question of obedience to the
law.
It was all in vain. With one voice they told the Deputy
that they could not with a clear conscience obey the King in
They refuse, this point.2 Accordingly, on November 13, formal
summoned mandates were served upon them, commanding them
before the t0 attend church on the following Sunday.3 They
chamber. disobeyed the order, and sixteen of them were sum-
moned before the Castle Chamber on the 22nd. Of the pro-
ceedings on this occasion, all that has come down to us is a
speech delivered by one of the King's Counsel, whose name is
not given. In this speech the claims of the civil power to
obedience were put forward in the most offensive way. After
a long argument in favour of the King's jurisdiction in
1 It was certainly supported by Davies. Davies to Salisbury, Dec. (?),
1605, Irish Cal. i. 603. It looks very like one of his suggestions.
2 Fenton to Salisbury, Oct. 26, ibid. i. 565.
3 Mandate, Nov. 13, ibid. i. 573.
i6o5 RECUSANTS IN THE CASTLE CHAMBER. 393
ecclesiastical matters, the speaker proceeded with the following
extraordinary remarks: — "Can the King," he asked, "make
bishops, and give episcopal jurisdictions, and cannot he com-
mand the people to obey that authority which himself hath
given ? Can he command the bishop to admit a clerk to a
benefice, and cannot he command his parishioners to come
and hear him ? . . . The King commands a man to take the
order of knighthood. If he refuse it, he shall be fined, for it is
for the service of the commonwealth. Can the King command
a man to serve the commonwealth, and cannot he command
him to serve God ? " '
Before the proceedings were brought to a close, Chichester
discovered that they were likely to awaken greater resistance
Petitioi t^ian 'lc 'Ul(^ expected The principal lords and
present.^ i,y gentlemen of the Pale appeared before the Court
the Im-ds and . . . .
gentlemen of With a petition in which, after protesting their
loyalty, they begged that the execution of the King's
proclamation might he deferred until they had informed
ll Majesty of the injustice to which they were subjected.9
Sentence was pronounced upon nine of those who had been
summoned before the Court. Those of them who were
Scntenceof a'('crllH'n wcrt-' eaCn to l';l>' a ,me of One bundled
chC'bctlc I,oum's ! the othei 1 escaped with a payment of half
thai sum.' Chi< luster, who u.is afraid lest he should
1 ed ol having set thee prosecutions on loot for the
]>ur| hing the Exch< qui r, dire* ted thai the fii
ild be expended upon the repairing of churches and bridj
and othei worl ol publii utility.' A few weeks later the
remainder ol tin- ixfc ntenced to similar fines, with
the in ol one ol the aldermen, who promised to come
to churr h.
1 Speech of Council, Nov. 22, Irith Cat. i. 579.
3 Petition cncloscl by Chichestet to Salisbury, Dec. 7, 1605,
i- 5'
1 Decree "f thi ' Chamber, Nov. 22, ibid. i. 604. [ntheconi I
•rial Salisbury's letter arrived, giving an account of the di a
the < itinpowdet Plot Chichestei read the letter in the pn lence of a large
concourse of people who ha'l assembled to wat< li the proi eedii
' Chichester to Salisbury, (Jet. 29, ibid. i. 567.
334 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. ix.
The immediate result of these proceedings appeared to be
satisfactory. The parish churches were better attended than
they had been for many years.1 The Deputy felt
imprison- himself strong enough to imprison some of those
some of the who had been most forward in preparing the petition,
petitioners, ^hose wh0 asked pardon were soon set at liberty ;
but one or two, who showed no signs of contrition, were retained
in confinement. Upon this the petitioners forwarded their
complaints to Salisbury. The Castle Chamber, they asserted,
never before had been used as a spiritual consistory.2 Before this
letter could reach England, Sir Patrick Barnwall, who was
believed to have been the contriver of the petition, was sum-
moned before the Council. After a warm altercation with the
Lord Deputy, Barnwall was committed to prison. "Well,"
said the prisoner, " we must endure, as we have endured many
things." " What mean you by that ? " asked Chichester. " We
have endured," replied Barnwall, " the late war and other
calamities besides." The Lord Deputy lost all patience. " You! "
he cried, "endured the misery of the late war? No, sir, we
have endured the misery of the war ; we have lost our blood
and our friends, and have, indeed, endured extreme miseries
to suppress the late rebellion, whereof your priests, for whom
you make petition, and your wicked religion, was the principal
cause." Barnwall was at once ordered off to prison.3 It was
an easy way to close a controversy which threatened to be
endless. Ultimately Barnwall was sent to England, to tell his
own story to the Government4
The citizens who had been fined resorted to tactics which
never fail to irritate a Government bent upon carrying out
Resistance unpopular measures. On the plea that the Castle
to the pay- Chamber had exceeded its jurisdiction, they all
ment of • • i ■
the fines. refused to pay the fines, or to admit into their
houses the officers who came for the purpose of collecting the
money. Orders were given that the doors of two of the mal-
1 Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, Dec. 5, Irish Cal. i. 588.
2 Chichester to Salisbury, Dec. 9, ibid. i. 600.
3 Davies to Salisbury, Dec, ibid. i. 603.
* Chichester to Salisbury, April 25, 1606, ibid. i. 709.
1605 PROCEEDINGS AGAINST THE RECUSANTS. 395
contents should be broken open. Next morning all Dublin
was full of stories of the violent proceedings of the officers to
whom this commission had been entrusted. Doors had been
broken open, the privacy of families had been violated, and
women and children had been terrified by this unseemly in-
trusion.
The next step was the empannelment of the jury which
was to value the property to be seized in payment of the
fines. The owners hoped to baffle the Government by mak-
ing all their property over, by deeds of gift, to persons of
their own selection. To make matters more sure, they had
been at the pains to antedate their deeds by six months. In
ordinary times these deeds would at once have been set aside
as fraudulent ; but such was the indignation felt by the whole
city, that the jury gave in a verdict to the effect that no pro-
perty existed which could be touched by the Crown. The
eminent had recourse to its usual remedy : both the per-
sons who had given and those who had accepted the deed-, oi
were cited before the Castle Chamber, where the documents
were pronounced to be fraudulent and void, and the fines were
at once levied.
Not content with bringing the richer citizens into court,
Chichester determined to make an attempt, by means of the
shillin fine, to force tin- poorer inhabitants of Dublin to attend
church. Indictments were accordingly served upon four hun-
ns. ( )l tin se, one hundred and sixty-nine were not
forthi oming in 1 ourt of the remainder, eighty-eight conformed,
whilst the number ol those who refused to submit, and wen
sentenced to pay a line, was one hundred and forty three.1
In Munster, an attempt was made to <arry out similar
measures, in most of the town,, many ol the poorei inhabi
tan; ■ ompelled to pay the shilling line. \ ( i
dii ts of this kind were generally obtained onh by
threatening the jury with the terrors oi chi I astle
Chamber. The richer citizens were summoned at once before
the President and his Council, and were heavily lined. Some
1 Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, with em la res,
March 7. Daviei to Salisbury, Feb., Irish Cal. i. 648, 66l.
396 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. IX.
of the members of the Irish Government were in high spirits.
They believed that before long the majority of Irishmen
would be reduced to the Protestant faith.1
It is plain, too, that Chichester's experience as a persecutor
was beginning to tell upon him, as experience of this kind will
always tell upon natures such as his. Even whilst
Chichester's .... ......
-non he was engaged in bringing the Dublin citizens before
the Castle Chamber, he was struck with the state of
feeling prevailing in the city. He had intelligence, by means
of spies, from all parts of Ireland, and he was soon made aware
that his measures, instead of drawing the people to conformity,
had evoked a spirit which would have broken out into open
resistance, if the country had not been completely cowed by
the results of the late war.2 His forces had lately been con-
siderably reduced, and, in the spring of 1606, he was obliged
to provide for keeping order in a large country with less than the
numbers of a single modern regiment.3 Six months later he
began to discover that there were better means of conversion
than those which had been practised in the Castle Chamber.
In June he wrote to the English Council that he saw little
chance of prevailing with the aged and the wealthy, though he
thought that the young and the poor might yet be won. The
best hope of success was to be sought for in the education of
the children.4
In the meanwhile Barn wall had arrived in London and was
committed to the Tower. On July 3 the English Privy Council
July 3. requested the Irish Government to justify its pro-
! :°unciI ceedings in issuing precepts under the Great Seal to
explanation, compel men to come to church.5 The reply 6 which
was, after a long delay, sent in the name of the Irish Council is,
1 The Council to Chichester, Jan. 24, Irish Cat. i. 630.
2 Chichester to Devonshire, Jan. 2, 1606, ibid. i. 622.
3 April I, 1606. Horse and foot in Ireland, ibid. i. 683. There were
only 880 foot, and 234 horse.
4 Chichester to the Council, June 3, ibid. i. 749.
s The Council to Chichester and the Irish Council, July 3, ibid,
i- 779-
6 Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, Dec. 1.
1606 THE IRISH COUNCIL ON RECUSANCY. 397
perhaps, the most curious monument which exists of the sen-
timents with which the question was regarded by men of the
world in that age.
They began by treating the refusal of the aldermen to attend
church as an act of disrespect to the Deputy, and to the
Dec. 1. Sovereign whose authority he bore, and argued that,
thePirU°h even 'f there were anything in attendance upon
Divine worship which did not properly come within
the notice of the civil authorities, they had certainly a right to
inflict punishment for disrespect to the King.
"And if," they continued, "it should be admitted to be
an ecclesiastical action, by reason that the circumstances are
ecclesiastical, yet the King, being Supreme Head in causes as
well ecclesiastical as civil, his regal power and prerogative do
extend as large as doth his supremacy. And the statute giveth
power to civil magistrates to enquire and punish, so the same
is become temporal, or, at least, mixed, and not merely
spiritual."
With this unlimited belief in the power of an Act of Parlia-
ment to change the nature of things, they had no difficulty iii
proving, satisfactorily to themselves, that the King had always
exercised this supremacy in ecclesiastical matters. They seem,
however, to have felt that their argument would carry them
too tar. They therefore hastened to qualify it by adding that,
though the King's command ought to be binding in all things
referring 'to the glory ol God a, well as to the good of 1 1 1.
commonwealth,' yet it extended 'nol to compel the heart and
mind, nor the religion ol the parties, but only the external
m <>f the body.'
They su knowli dged thai there wi re two cases in whi< h the
Kingoughl not to interfere even with 'the external action of
the body,' namely, either when the person was liable 'to be
drawn into the dangei ol hypocrisy,' or when the action com
manded was 'prohibited by lawful and binding authority.'
They argued, however, thai there was no danger of lead
anyone into hypocrisy by ordering him to go to < hurt h. l I 1
1 objection they mel by saying that when a Catholii pi
directed those who would listen to him to absent themselves from
398 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. IX.
the Protestant service, he was only giving them advice, and the
mere reception of advice freed no one from the duty of obey-
ing the King. Besides this it was necessary that the Castle
Chamber should cover the deficiencies of the Irish statutes.
If no English precedent could be found, it was because no
such interference had been needed where the law itself was
so much more perfect.
The Council then returned to the main point, as if conscious
that their answers had not been altogether satisfactory. It was
plain, they argued, that to come to church was commanded by
the law of God, for it was impossible to admit that Parliament
would command anything contrary to the law of God. He
who resisted the law of God was in danger of damnation, con-
sequently it was ' a charitable thing, by terror of temporal
punishments, to put such persons out of that state of dam-
nation.'
After a few more remarks, they fell back on those general
arguments to which most governments in the wrong have
recourse when they are pressed hard. If men might disobey
the law under pretence of conscience, no laws would be obeyed
by anyone. " So that be the laws never so wise, wholesome,
just, or godly, the common and unlearned people may dis-
charge themselves of their duties by claiming or pretending the
same to be against their erroneous or ignorant consciences,
which is no other than to subject good laws to the will and
pleasure not only of the wise, but of the simple."
Chichester felt that, however desirable it might be to
compel all Irishmen to attend church, it was an impracticable
scheme. On the very day on which the letter of the Council
was written, he sent off another to Salisbury, in which
letter to he gave expression to his own feelings. "In these
Salisbury. matters of bringing men to church," he wrote, " I
have dealt as tenderly as I might, knowing well that men's
consciences must be won and persuaded by time, conference,
and instructions, which the aged here will hardly admit, and
therefore our hopes must be in the education of the youth ;
and yet we must labour daily, otherwise all will turn to
barbarous ignorance and contempt. I am not violent therein
1606 CHICHESTER ON PERSECUTION. 399
albeit I wish reformation, and will study and endeavour it all I
may, which I think sorts better with His Majesty's ends than
to deal with violence and like a Puritan in this kind." l Upon
the receipt of this letter the English judges were consulted, and
gave an opinion that the proceedings in Ireland were according
to law. Barnwall was, upon this, sent back to Ireland, and
required to make submission to the Deputy. He had achieved
his object. In spite of the opinion of the English judges, no
attempt was ever again made in Ireland to enforce attendance
at church through the fear of a fine in the Council Chamber.2
Two or three months later, Salisbury received a letter from
Lord Buttevant, protesting against the measures which were
being taken in Munster by the President.3 Upon this the
Jul), i«o7. English Council wrote to recommend that a more
l,inn moderate course should be taken with the recusants.4
of the pcr-
This order cannot have been otherwise than agree-
able to the Deputy. He had engaged himself in repressive
measures, not from any persecuting spirit, but because he
believed that the religion of the Catholics made them enemies
to order and government. He gave way, like the Duke of
Wellington in 1829, without modifying his opinion in the least,
oon as he saw that his measures had provoked a spirit of
tan< e which was tar more dangerous to the State than the
elements which he had attempted to repress.
The death of Sir Henry Brouncker, in the summer of 1607,
made a change of system easy in Munster. It was found that
he had lefl the prim ipal men of all the towns in the
thof .... ,
s,r n. province either in prison, or on bond to appear
when they were summoned.' I he greater pari of
the prisoners were released.6 For some little time indictments
1 Chichester to Salisbury, Dec. 1, Irish Cat. ii. (,\.
■ The Council to Chichester and the Irish Council, Dec. 31, ibid,
ii. 83.
1 Buttevant to Salisbury, Feb. 1 1, ibid. ii. 137.
4 The Couni ii to Chichester, July 21, Hid, ii. 230.
'lory-son to Salisbury, June 25, ibid, ii. 266.
' Fourteen were kept in prison, wli 1 1 to sign a bond thai they
would not leave the province without leave, and that they would appeal at
400 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. IX.
were brought under the statute, and the shilling fines were
levied ; but even these were gradually dropped, and, for a
time at least, the Government was convinced that the attempt
to convert Irishmen by force was more dangerous than they
had expected.
A trial which took place in the early part of 1607, can
hardly be considered to have formed part of the persecution,
Laior, vicar- which was at that time dying away. Amongst the
thr"erd!o'-n priests who were lying in prison at the end of the
ceses. preceding year, was Robert Lalor, Vicar-General in
the dioceses of Dublin, Kildare, and Ferns. He obtained his
release in December, by confessing that it was unlawful to
hold the office which he occupied, and that the appointment of
Bishops rightfully belonged to the Sovereign. He also promised
to obey all the lawful commands of the King.
It soon came to the ears of the Government that he had
been giving a false account of the confession which he had
„ . . made. He had attempted to excuse himself to his
He is in- _ *
dieted under friends by asserting that he had only acknowledged
the Statute , , . , __. . XT
ofPremu- the authority of the King in temporal causes. Upon
this he was indicted under the Statute of Premunire.
The Government do not seem to have been animated by any
vindictive feeling against the man, but they appear to have
been glad to seize an opportunity of demonstrating that he
could be reached by a statute passed in the reign of Richard II.,
and that the claims of the Catholic priesthood had been felt as
a grievance, even by a Catholic Sovereign and a Catholic
Parliament. Pie was accordingly charged with receiving Bulls
from Rome, and with exercising ecclesiastical jurisdiction. He
had also instituted persons to benefices, had granted dispen-
sations in matrimonial causes, and had pronounced sentences
of divorce. At his trial he urged that he belonged to a Church
whose decrees were only binding on the consciences of those
who chose voluntarily to submit to them, and that therefore
any time when summoned before the Council, and that they would not
willingly converse with any priest. The late President had laid fines to
the amount of 7,000/., but only 80/. was actually levied. — Chichester to
Salisbury, Aug. 4, Irish Cat. ii. 316.
1607 CHICHESTER AS A CHURCH REFORMER. 401
the Statute of Premunire, framed to check a jurisdiction re-
cognised by the State, had no longer any application. Davies,
who had become Attorney-General in the course of the preced-
ing year, would hear nothing of this argument. A verdict of
guilty was brought in, and sentence was pronounced.1 Lalor,
having served the purpose for which his trial was intended,
slipped out of sight. It is not probable that he was very
severely punished.
Chichester betook himself to a more congenial mode of
reforming the Church. He could not do much where the
Chichester's Archbishop of Cashel was plundering four dioceses,-
refonnthe anc* where scarcely a parish was sufficiently endowed
for the support of a minister. But he did what he
could. He had his eye upon every preacher of worth and ability
in Ireland, and as the sees fell vacant one by one, he was read)
to recommend a successor, and to propose some scheme by
which to increase the pittance, which the last occupant had
probably eked out by illegal means. The rule which he laid
m for the choice of bishops for Ireland may be gathered
from a letter in which he informed Salisbury of the death ol the
Bishop of Down and Connor. He reminded him that, in choos-
ing successors to any of the Bishops, regard should be 'had as
well to their ability of body, and manners and fashion of life,
as to their depth of learning and judgment : these latter quali
tions being fitter for employments in settled and refined
doms than to labour in the reformation ol this.* a X"!
were thei e his onlj servici to the ( !hun h. 1 1>- wa
for< mo t in pn ing on thi tran ilation of the book
of Common Prayer into Irish, and as soon as the work
accomplished in il took an active part in dispersing it
through the ( otmti
The Deputy's office wa rily not a bed of roses.
Whilst the whole of the < latholic South was openly expre
1 State 7 , 1 .'.' . ii. 533.
. Aug. .). Iri h Cal. ii. ;i 5,
< to Salisbury, Jan, 1 i, 1 id. ii. 104.
1 //,:>■'. .)/.'.■.. 554.1. The translation of the New T< lament had
completed in 1603.
VOL. 1 DD
402 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. ch. ix.
its detestation of his measures, the state of the North was such
as to engage his most anxious attention. After his
1606. ° ' . , ,
Affairs of visit to Ulster in 1605, he had formed some hopes
ter' that the great chiefs would quietly submit to the new
order of things. In the spring of the following year, he began
to be doubtful of the success of any attempt to convert an Irish
chief into a peaceful subject. The rule of the law had come
near enough to the two northern earls to make them discon-
tented. Tyrone himself promised that he would obey the laws.
Chichester, who put little faith in his promises, was only con-
firmed by his intercourse with him in the opinion that Ulster
would never prosper until it was brought under the settled
government of a President and Council. ' Tyrone must have
had some inkling of this opinion of the Deputy, for, not long
afterwards, he wrote to the King, protesting against such an
indignity, and declaring that he would sooner pass the rest of
his life in exile than come under any government but that of
the King himself, or of the Lord Deputy ; 2 or, in other words,
that he would do anything rather than submit to any govern-
ment which was near enough to reach him effectively.
Chicnester determined to leave it to time to develope the
results which were certain to ensue, and contented himself
with employing the summer in a progress through
,'na" the three south-western counties of Ulster. His first
resting-place was Monaghan, then a village composed
of scattered cottages, chiefly occupied by the soldiers of the
little garrison. The inhabitants of the surrounding country
were, for the most part, members of the sept of the Mac-
Mahons. Monaghan had been made shire-ground sixteen
years before, and had been divided into freeholds, to be held
1 iy the principal men of the district. But the flood of rebellion
had passed over the unhappy country before the new order of
things had well taken root, and had swept away every trace of
these arrangements. The freeholders themselves had been a
j articular mark for those who had found their account in the
old anarchy, and such of them as did not aid the rebels were
1 Chichester to Salisbury, May 10, Irish Cal. i. 726.
2 Tyrone to the King, June 17, ibii i. 763,
1606 CHICHESTER IN MONAGHAN. 403
either slain or driven away. To restore order amidst the
confusion which had set in was no easy task. Chichester
set about it with his usual good sense and courtesy. He
arranged the whole settlement so as to make as few changes
as possible. Whenever he found that an alteration was
necessary, he laid it before the chief persons present, and
succeeded in securing their full consent to his proposals. It
only remained to obtain the requisite powers from England
before his final sanction could be given.
The necessity which existed for a change in the social con-
dition of the country became apparent as soon as the assizes
were opened. Prisoner after prisoner was brought to
the bar ; it was to no purpose that the most con-
vincing evidence was tendered against them ; in every case a
verdict of Not Guilty was returned. The cause was soon dis-
covered : the jurymen knew that if they returned a verdict
of Guilty, they would he exposed to the vengeance of the
relations of the prisoner, and that they might consider them-
selves fortunate if, as soon as the Deputy's cavalcade
gone, they only saw their lands pillaged and their cattle
driven away.
'I he county was plainly Unfit tor the c\er< ise of trial by
jury. The simplest remedy would have been temporarily to
d the system. Hut such an idea never occurred to
Engli ihmen at that time, except in 1 ase . ol a< tual rebellion. I;.
jurymen were visited with 'good round fim
next jury was terrified into giving a true verdict. W<
not told what b of the persons who < omposed it after th<
1 1 one.
One '■! thi customs ol the county was a nuisance which
Chichester was determined to abate. 'I he principal men ol
the I had long made il a hal.it to 'eat their he I in. in liu
1 . 1 Pale.' in on!. 1 to make this po n indi ipi n table
member of their household was a professional 1
1 .na.e who went by the respectable appellation ol 'The
gli:"1, i terer.' In order to give th( ■ people a h
such proceedin t come to an end, two ol the great Q
whose tables had been supplied m this irregular way were in-
d u 2
404 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. IX.
dieted as receivers of stolen goods. They acknowledged their
fault upon their knees, and were immediately pardoned.
Before leaving Monaghan, Chichester obtained the consent
of the chief men of the county to the building of a gaol and a
sessions house, and persuaded them to contribute 20/. a year
for the maintenance of a school.
In Monaghan there was some recollection of a land settle-
ment. In Fermanagh the Irish tenures had prevailed unin-
terruptedly. The county was in the hands of two of
the Maguires. Connor Roe Maguire had joined the
English at the time of the rebellion, and had been rewarded by
a grant of the whole county. When the war was concluded,
Mountjoy, wishing to bribe into submission the rebel chief
Cuconnaught Maguire, took advantage of a legal flaw in
Connor's patent, and divided the county between them. No
patent was, however, to be granted till freeholds had been
established. Here, again, Chichester was called upon to solve
the knotty question of the Irish tenures. On making inquiries,
he found that here, as everywhere else, two theories prevailed.
The lords, with one consent, declared that all the land belonged
to them ; the occupants no less stoutly protested that the land
was theirs, and that the lords had only a right to certain fixed
dues.1 Chichester noted down in his memory the rival doc-
trines, and reserved them for future consideration. Davies,
with characteristic readiness to grasp at any theory which made
against the Irish lords, set down the case of the tenants as fully
.ed.
From Fermanagh the Deputy proceeded to Cavan, where
he found the county in a state of unexampled confusion. Be
fore the rebellion broke out, a settlement of the ques-
tions connected with the land tenures had been pro-
d by which the greater part of the district was to have been
allotted to Sir John O'Reilly and his immediate relations. But,
if this arrangement had ever taken effect, no legal records of it
1 Precisely the same opposite doctrines as those which arose in Russia
about the land tenure during the discussions on the emancipation of the
serf;.
i6o6 STATE OF FERMANAGH. 405
had been preserved, and Sir John himself had died in arms against
the Queen. On his death, his brother Philip set at nought the
arrangements of the Government, and took possession, as tanist,
of the whole district, giving himself the title of The O'Reilly.
He did not long survive his brother, and was succeeded by his
uncle Edmond, who was afterwards killed in rebellion. Upon
his death no successor was appointed. Whilst the greater part
of the family had taken arms against the Queen, Sir John's
eldest son, Molinary O'Reilly, had served under the English
eminent, and had been slain fighting against his country-
men. Upon the restoration of peace, his widow, a niece of the
I ; 1 of Ormond, demanded the wardship of her son, and a
third part of the land as her own dower. This claim was not
supported by law, as Sir John had never taken out his patent
to hold his land by English tenure, and consequently his son
Molinary had never been the legal owner of the land. Carey,
however, who was the Deputy to whom her request had been
made, acceded to her wishes, though he gave the custody of
the land to one of Sir John's brothers. The inhabitants of the
nty took advantage of the confusion to refuse to pay renl to
anyone. I the whole subject, and, as he
had done in thi of the other two counties, reserved his
■ n till after his return to Dublin.
whi< h wen ected to ensue from the 1 oming
nil out, by Davii . in warm, but by uo in'
lowing " All the po >sessi< ms," he
wrote, " shall d cend and be conveyed according to
ommon law ; ever) man shall have
now the < ertainty of h hereby
the people will be encouraj ed to manure ' then- land with
better industry than i re hath been u ed, to bring up
children m lly, to provide for then po t< rity more care-
fully. This will < to build better housi th< i
•y, and to [hbourhood. And there will arise
villages and towns, which will draw tradi in' n and artifi< ei . so
as v eive a hope that th( 1 1 ountries, in a short time, will
1 i.e. cultivate.
406 THE PACIFICATION OF IRELAND. CH. ix.
not only be quiet neighbours to the Pale, but be made as rich
and as civil as the Pale itself." l
When the proposed settlement in Cavanand Fermanagh was
laid before the English Privy Council, it appeared that the
Nov. i4. view there taken of the course to be pursued was
\ more liberal than that of the Lord Deputy. They
Com charged him to see that the natives were satisfied in
the division of land, and that but few Englishmen should receive
a share 'lest, if many strangers be brought in among them, it
should be imagined as an invention to displant the natives,
which would breed a general distaste in all the Irish.' 2
The summer, which had been employed by Chichester in
his northern progress, had also seen the conversion into shire -
Wickiow ground of the last southern Irish district which had
maintained the independence of the English law.
round. From henceforth the country of the Byrnes and
Tooles was to be known as the county of Wicklow. On his
return from Ulster, the indefatigable Davies accompanied the
chief justice, Sir James Ley, on his circuit. For the first time,
the new county was to be visited by the judges. They set out,
without entertaining any very favourable expectations of the
reception with which they were likely to meet, as it was gene-
rally understood in Dublin that the Wicklow hills were a mere
den of thieves and robhers. They met with an agreeable sur-
prise. The people flocked around the judges in such numbers
that it was a matter of astonishment to them how the desolate
mountains could support such multitudes. Old and young
poured forth from the glens to welcome the magistrates, who
were to confer upon the county the blessings of a settled and
liar law. Nor was the feeling confined to the poorer
classes. The gentlemen and freeholders paid the court the
highest compliment which it was in their power to bestow, by
1 Report of the Deputy's visit to Ulster, enclosed by Davies to Salis-
bury, Sept. 20, 1606, Davies' Historical Tracts, 215. Chichester and the
Irish Council to the Council, Sept. 12, 1606. Chichester to the Council,
Sept. 12, 1606, Irish Cat. i. 847, 848.
2 The Council to Chichester, Nov. 14. ibid. ii. 37.
l6o6 CHICHESTER AS A RULER. 40;
appearing in what was to them the awkward novelty of the
English dress.1
If these unwonted signs of loyalty were manifested amongst
the native population they were owing to the growing conviction
that Chichester meant well by those who were subjected to his
authority. Armed force he had but little to dispose of, but
the knowledge that he was doing his best to establish justice
weighed heavily on his side. By his attempt to force the Irish
to conform to a religion which they detested, he had, from
the best of motives, done much to weaken that impression ; but
that mistake was soon to be abandoned, and if only the settle-
ment of Ireland could have been carried out in the spirit which
had dictated the despatch of the English Council on the division
of Cavan and Fermanagh, Irish history would have been more
cheerful reading than it is.
1 Davicsto Salisbury, Nov. 12, 1606, Irish Cal. ii. 33.
4oS
CHAPTER X.
THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER.
Satisfactory as the progress of improvement was, on the
whole, the Deputy found materials for anxiety in the condition
pissatisfac- of Ulster. In the summer of 1606, a report reached
nornthemhe nim that Tyrconnell and Cuconnaught Maguire had
been attempting to obtain a passage for France on
board a Scottish vessel, which happened to be lying off the
coast.1 In January, 1607, Chichester took the op
portunity of a visit which Tyrone was paying in
Dublin, to question him on the subject, but he was unable to
elicit from him any information except that the two chiefs were
miserably poor, and had expressed to him their discontent.
Tyrone himself was in no good humour ; he was irritated by
difficulties connected with the ownership of land in his own
country, which had been perpetually recurring, in one form or
another, ever since his return from England,2 and which were
likely to recur as long as the English Government looked with
1 Depositions of Gawin More and Kilmeny, of Glasgow, Aug. 30,
1606, Irish Cal. i. 830.
2 A few months before James expressed himself in a way which shows
that he, at least, had no deliberate wish to despoil Tyrone of his inherit-
ance, which, as he says, if it were determined by strict law, might be doubtful
4 in a country where their evidences and records are so ill kept.' lie sent a
message to Salisbury, ' that as, on the one side, he will/iot maintain Tyrone
in any encroaching of such greatness upon his subjects as were not fit, so
on the other side he would wish all occasions to be taken from him of just
complaint, considering what dependency the Irish have on him, and how
ticklish their disposition is towards the State.' — Lake to .Salisbury, Aug. 27,
1606, Hatfield MSS. 118, fol. 09.
1607 TYRONE AND O CAHAN. 400
jealousy on his proprietary claims, which carried political
authority with them. His chief quarrel, however,
quarrel with was with Sir Donnell O'Canan, his principal vassal,
or uriaght, as he was called by the Irish. O'Cahan's
territory was of considerable extent, reaching from the river
Bann to the shores of Lough Foyle. He boasted that it had
been held by his ancestors for a thousand years. When a
successor to The O'Neill was chosen, it was to O'Cahan that
the privilege was assigned of inaugurating him by the various
ceremonies which were required by the Irish custom.1 When
The O'Neill went to war, O'Cahan was bound to join him at
the head of one hundred horse and three hundred foot, in
return for which he claimed the suit of apparel which was worn
by Tlie O'Neill, and the horse upon which he rode, as well as
a hundred COWS. 0'< ahan, on the other hand, paid to The
O'Neill a yearly rent of twenty-one cows. According to
O'Cahan, when he had performed these services, he was as
much the lord of his own land as any English freehold. 1
O'Neill, on the other hand, had never been sparing, whenever
he had the power, of those various forms oi exaction which
Weighed so heavily upon an Irish \.\ al.
'I his state of things, liable enough in itself to give rise to
endless disputes, had been aggravate d by the interpretation
which each of the rivals had put upon the promises of the
English Government O'Cahan had followed hi:, chief in re
lion, but had been the first ' • his peace. As a reward
tor In 1 .mi <>t the Irish 1 au e, Mountjoy had promi ■ 1 1
him that In- should in future hold In, l.md, directly from the
Crown. He actually received a patent, granting him thi
■ idy ot the lam the ame rem as that whu h he had
' After the chief bad sworn t" observe ti "f the tribe, and
ha<l taken bis pi." e on the tone on which the chiefs "i
at their installation, the principal sub-chief presented him with a rod.
Then, 'after receiving the rod, the kit d hi
placol his feet in the impress, in the tone, "I hi I" ",
",iing forward, the sub-chieftain placed sandals mi hi, chief feel 111
token of obedience, retained one of the royal in honourabli per*
quisite, and threw thi 1 the king's head ;> • an augury oi
luck.'— Dublin University Mag. No. ccexxxv. p, 531.
410 THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. ch. x.
been accustomed to pay to Tyrone ; and he had a promise
that an absolute grant of them should be made out, as soon as
the Government had time to attend to such matters. But,
before anything was done, Tyrone had himself submitted, and
had received a grant of all the lands which had been in posses
sion of his grandfather, Con O'Neill.
Upon Tyrone's return from England, his first thought was
to claim O'Cahan's submission, in virtue of the grant which he
brought with him. He hated O'Cahan as a deserter,
and he demanded that two hundred cows should at
once be sent to him, and that O'Cahan should engage to pay
him, in future, the same number as an annual rent, which was
considered to be equivalent to a payment of 200/. As a pledge
for the performance of his demand, he took possession of a
1606. large district belonging to O'Cahan. At first,
^'bmiteto O'Cahan submitted without resistance, as he knew
Tyrone. that Mountjoy had taken Tyrone's part, and whatever
hopes he may have entertained were at an end when Tyrone
showed him the royal grant. Believing that he had been
betrayed, he resigned himself to his fate, and signed a
paper, in which he agreed to give way in everything. He with-
drew all claims to an independent position, and promised to
submit any quarrel which might hereafter arise between himself
and any of his own followers to the arbitration of the Earl. '
It was probably during a visit paid to Montgomery, the new
Bishop of J Jerry, Raphoc, and Clogher, in the summer of 1606,
that a new light dawned upon O'Cahan's mind as to the support
which he was likely to obtain from the Government. Mont-
gomery had discovered that three bishoprics in Ireland might
1 Agreement, Feb. 17. It is signed by O'Cahan only. Irish Cal.
ii 144. The editors give thedateas 1606, but place the document in 1607.
There can be no doubt that 1606 is the right date. It was probably
drawn up by some priest who attended Tyrone, who, from his foreign
education, would be accustomed to begin the year on January 1. February
1606-7 is an impossible date, as Chichester speaks of the quarrel as
already revived in his letter to Salisbury on January 26, 1607. Compare
O'Cahan's petition, May 2, 1607, Irish Cal. ii. 120, 196 It appears
that the seizure of the cattle took place in the beginning of October, 1606.
— Da vies to Salisbury, Nov. 12, 1606, ibid. ii. 33.
1606 O'CAHAN COMPLAINS. 411
afford but a poor maintenance to a bishop, and, as he knew
that a large part of the lands which he claimed on behalf of the
see of Deny lay in O'Cahan's territory, he encouraged the
Irishman to go to law with Tyrone, on the understanding that
he was himself to reap part of the benefit.1 Rumours, too, may
well have reached him that inquiries had been made into the
nature of the connection between the chiefs and their subordi-
nates, and it must soon have oozed out that the Government
was by no means desirous to allow more to the great chiefs than
strict justice required.
Whatever rumours of this kind may have been abroad,
they failed to make any impression on Tyrone. Scarcely had
I hichester returned to Dublin, when the Earl pro-
J yrone ,
reeded to further aggressions. His wish was to gain
over O'Cahan's followers to his own service. The
method by which he hoped to obtain his object had, at least,
merit of simplicity. He drove off all the cattle which he
could find in O'l Mian's district, and told the owners that they
could only regain their property by breaking off all connection
with his rival. -
In May, O'Cahan laid his case before the Deputy and the
< unciL Alter detailing his grievances, he requested that
he might be allowed the services of the Attorney-
May 1607. °
ieral.a His request was complied with, and the
two rivals were ordered to present themselves before
the Count il. It had b< 1 n diffi< nit to indut e Tyrone toapj 1
it was not to I d thai he should comport himself in
sue li a manner as to satisfy the Council. His proud S]
unable to brook tl 1 dation oi being railed in question for
what he regarded as his ancestral rights, rle can hardly have
doubted thai a decision against him was a foregone conclu
and that the legal qu< rci ol the patenl granted
1 Monti; ■ . I '. 1. I' "7, Irish Cal, ii. 2Kr, 2S2,
• This is O'Cahan's account of the matter. Tyrone, in his answi i I
O'Cahan's petition (May 23, 1607'. for rent.
Perhaps O'Cahan refused to pay the stipulal < of two hundn
I'Cahan's petit;"!), May 2 ; Tyi wer, May 23, Irish Cal. ii.
196, 212.
412 THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. CH. x.
by James to himself was likely to be settled in O'Cahan's favour
on political grounds.1 "I am come here," said O'Cahan, "to
be protected by the King, and to the end that I and my kindred
may depend only on the King. If you send me down again to
live under O'Neill, and to hold my country at his pleasure, I
must do as I have done and be at his commandment in all
actions he shall undertake." 2 No sooner had O'Cahan begun
to read the papers on which he rested his case, than Tyrone
snatched them violently from his hand, and tore them in
pieces before his face. It was with difficulty that the Deputy
restrained his indignation, and contented himself with giving
him a slight reproof.
Chichester had reasons of his own for visiting so mildly this
disrespectful conduct. Reports had reached him which led him
to believe that an agitation was prevailing in the country which
might at any time lead to an outbreak, and he was unwilling to
precipitate matters by any appearance of severity.
Salisbury had received information of a plot which was in
existence in Ireland, from a younger brother of Lord Howth,
Sir Christopher St. Lawrence, who was at that time
Information *
of a con- serving in the Archduke's army in the Netherlands.
spiracy given ° _ , , , ....
to the Go- But St. Lawrence s character for veracity did not
stand high, and it was difficult to take any measures
solely upon his evidence. On May 18 a circumstance occurred
which corroborated his statement ; an anonymous paper was
found at the door of the Council Chamber, stating that a plan
had been formed to murder the I )eputy and to seize upon the
government.3 Not long afterwards St. Lawrence, who had
lately succeeded to his brother's title, arrived in Dublin. The
new Lord Howth told his story to the Deputy. He said that
it was intended that a general revolt should take place, in which
many of the nobility, as well as the towns and cities, were to
take part, and that they had received assurance of assistance
1 See the apparently temperate statement in St. John's letter to Salis-
bury, June I, Irish Cal. 'i. 223.
- Davies to Salisbury, July 1, ibid. ii. 279.
* Chichester to Salisbury, May 27, inclosing a copy of the paper, ibid.
i. 217.
i6o7 A CONSPIRACY DETECTED. 413
from the King of Spain. The original idea had been to seize
upon Dublin Castle at Easter in the preceding year, and to
surprise the Deputy and Council. This was to have been the
tal for a general rising. The plan was at that time relin-
hed, in consequence of the refusal of Lord Delvin, one
of the lords of the Pale, to concur in any scheme by which
Chichester's life was threatened. He declared that, sooner
than the Deputy should be slain, he would reveal the whole
plot to the- Government. Howth added that, before he left
^ders, the learned Florence Conry, Provincial of the Irish
Franciscans, assured him that everything was now ready in
Ireland for an insurrection. The King of Spain, however, who
was to furnish ten thousand foot and two hundred horse, would
not be prepared till the autumn of 1608. The Provincial was
himself entrusted with a large sum of money, which was to be
placed in Tyrconnell's hands. Howth also declared that Tyr-
connell had been present at the meetings of the conspirators.
On the other hand, though he had no doubt of Tyrone's com-
ity, he was unable to prove anything against him. The
information was afterwards fully confirmed by the < onfession of
Delvin.1 Chichester, however, at the time, put little confidence
in a Story which came from such a source. Howth himself
refused to In- prodU( I '1 in public as a witness, and there was
little to be done except to use all possible mi m . of acquiring
additional i . 'ion. That such a conspiracy existed was
sufficiently probable. Tin attempt to enforce the Recusancj
laws in 1605 could not but have had the effect of disposing the
lords of the 1'aie and the merchants of the towns to look with
litioil with tin- ( hiefs of the North, who were
ttisfied on very different groum
Meanwhile Tyrone's pi at Dublin had changed The
lawyers, with Davies al their head, bail hit upon the notable
1 Chichi'-''r • 1 Salisbury, Sept. 8. Delvin' ion, Nov. 6, Irish
Cat. ii. 296, 301, 336, 337, 43.S. The plot wu imparted by Tyrconnell
t ■ • Howth mul Delvin at Maynooth, about Cbri 1 15.
- Chichi ■ 1 ilisbury, July 7. Tim Council to Chichester, July 22,
si. 296, 301.
4i4 THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. CH x.
idea that the lands in question belonged to neither of the dis-
rhe lawyers putants, but that they were, in reality, the property of
O'Cahan'r the Crown. Proud of their discovery, the King's
tontheelonss Counsel requested Chichester to allow them to ex-
Gown, hibit an information of intrusion against the Earl, and
assured him that they would be able to bring the whole district
into His Majesty's hands. The Deputy's strong good sense
saved him from being led away by such a proposal. An order
was made that two-thirds of the district should remain in
O'Cahan's possession, and that Tyrone should keep the re-
maining third till the question had been decided. Both Tyrone
juIy l6- and O'Cahan were at this time anxious to have leave
behheard in to §° to England, and to plead their cause before
London. the King.1 After some delay, the King decided upon
taking the matter into his own hands, and to hear the case in
England.2
In August, Chichester again set out for Ulster. His inten-
tion was to carry out some, at least, of the reforms which he
had planned in the course of his last visit. On his way, he had
frequent interviews with Tyrone. The Earl was now evidently
dissatisfied with the prospect of a visit to England, but was
apparently engaged in making preparations for his journey.
In fact, the news that Tyrone had been summoned to
England had spread consternation in the ranks of the con-
Constema- spiratbrs. It was impossible for them not to suppose
"con-°ng tnat more vvas meant than met the eye. They
spirators. fancied that all their plans were in the hands of the
Government, and they looked upon the order for Tyrone's
journey to London as a clever scheme for separating from them
the man whose presence would be most needful when the in-
surrection broke out. Accordingly, they soon became convinced
that all chances of success were at an end, and that they might
consider themselves fortunate if they succeeded in saving their
lives from justice.
1 Chichester and the Irish Council to the Council, June 26, with en-
closures. Davies to Salisbury, July 1, Irish Cal. ii. 267, 279.
- The King to Chichester, July 16. Chichester to the Council, Aug.
4, ibid. ii. 288, 316.
1607 THE FLIGHT OF THE EARLS. 415
On Saturday, August 29, Chichester saw Tyrone for the last
time. The earl visited the Deputy at Slane, and entered into
. . conversation with him on the subject of his intended
Chichester journey to England. When he took his leave, the
downcast expression of his countenance was noticed
by all who saw him. He may well have been dejected. The
dream of his life was passing away for ever. Calmly and steadily
the English usurper was pressing on over the land where obedi-
ence had been paid to his ancestors for generations. He had
easily credited the warning which reached him, that if he set
foot in England he would himself be committed to the Tower,
and that Chichester would be appointed to govern Ulster as
Lord President Nothing remained but to seek refuge in a
foreign land from the hated invader, whom he could never
again hope to expel from the soil of Ireland.
He next went to Sir Garret Moore's house, at Mellifont
When he left the house, the inmates were astonished at the
FUghi f wildness of his behaviour. The greal earl wept like
1C- a child, and bade a solemn farewell to every person
in the house. On the 31st he was at Dungannon, where for
1 days he re ted for the last time among his own people.
Late on the evening of September 2 he set off again, accom
ied by his wife, his eldest son, and two of his young
childrea A party of his followers guarded their chief and his
ily. Between him and his countess there was but little love;
in his drunken bouts he had been a< 1 ustomed to behave to her
with th rudeness. Nothing but absolute m
forced hei to remain with him, ami she had only been
prevented from betraying his secrets to the Government b)
the rare with which he avoided entrusting her with any.1
A the train was hurrying through the darkness of the night,
she slipped from her horse, either being in reality overcome
with fatigue, or being desirous of escaping from hei husband,
lared f : was unabl< p furthi r. Tyrone
was not in a mood to 1. 1 issed ; he drew his sword, and com
1 When Chiche tei w North in 1605, La lyTyrom had offered
to play the spy f"r him. — Chichester to Devonshire, Feb. 26, 1606, with
endosurcs, Irish Cal. i. 654.
4l6 THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. ch. x.
pelled her to mount again, swearing that he would kill her, if
she did not put on a more cheerful countenance. The next
day, he crossed the Foyle at Dunalong, in order to pass un-
noticed between the garrisons of Deny and Lifford. The
Governor of Derry, hearing that the carl was in the neighbour-
hood, and being ignorant of his intentions, sent a messenger to
ask him to dinner, an invitation which Tyrone declined. Late
on the night of the 3rd, the little band arrived at Rathmullan, on
the shores of Lough Swilly, where Tyrconnell and Cuconnaught
H ., Maguire were waiting for them.1 Maguire, who had
Tyrconnell been acquainted with the conspiracy, had gone over to
and Maguire . . °
at R.-uh- Brussels in May,2 apparently in order to see whether
there was any chance of obtaining assistance from the
Archduke. A few weeks earlier, Bath, a citizen of Drogheda, had
been sent by the two earls to ask for help from the King of Spain,3
but had met with a cool reception. The Spanish Government
had enough upon its hands in the Low Countries to deter it from
embarking in a fresh war with England. Maguire had not been
long in Brussels before information reached him that their whole
scheme had been discovered. It was said that the Archduke
had given him a sum of money to enable him to assist in the
escape of the persons implicated. With this he bought a ship
at Rouen, where he met with Bath, and in his company sailed
for the north of Ireland.
They had been preceded by a letter written from Brussels
by Tyrone's son, Henry O'Neill, to his father, which, probably,
conveyed intelligence of their intended arrival.4 On August 25,
., they had cast anchor in Lough Swilly, where they
They set sail > ... b , ,J\ '
from Lough had remained under pretence of being engaged
in fishing until Tyrconnell and Tyrone could be
warned. On September 4, the exiles went on board, and on
the following day they bade farewell for ever to their native
land. It is said that they were detained by a curious circum-
1 Chichester to the Council, Sept. 7. Davies to Salisbury, Sept. 12,
Irish Cal. ii. 343, 354.
- Examination of James Loach, Dec. 18, ibid. ii. 493.
3 Examination of Sir Thomas Fitzgerald, Oct. 3, ibid. ii. 390.
4 Confession of Sir Cormac O'Neill, Oct. 8, ibid. ii. 424.
1607 CHICHESTER'S PRECAUTIONS. 417
stance.1 There was an infant child of one of Tyrconnei's
brothers, who was, according to the Irish custom, under the care
of a foster father. It happened that the child had been born with
six toes on one of its feet. A prophecy was said to have beer
handed down for generations, that a child of the sept of the
O'Donnells would be born with six toes, who would drive all
the English out of Ireland. Such a treasure was too valuable to
be left behind, and the whole party waited till the child had
been brought on board. The pains which were taken to secure
this infant were the more remarkable, as one of Tyrone's own
children was left in Ireland.
Chichester felt the full extent of the danger. He knew
that if a Spanish army were to land in Ireland, it would be
Precautions impossible for him to meet it with more than four
I,;.ythe hundred men, and there was little hope that he would
mcnt- r* 1 eive any active assistance, even from those among
the Irish who were ill-disposed to the cause of the two earls.
Whatever could be done, he did at once. Small garrisons
were thrown into the chief strongholds of the fugitives, and
orders were given for the arrest of the few persons who were
known to have taken part in the conspiracy.2 Commissioners
were sent into the northern counties to assume the government
in the name of the King, and a proclamation was issued, in
which assurances were ^iven to the common people that no
harm should befall them in consequence of the misconduct oi
their superii
Still, the Deputy was anxious. In Ulster, as in so manj
other pari "I Ireland, though there were a few men of wealth
who dreaded the< t a new rebellion, the mass oi the
population were in Buch extrem* poverty as to welcome th<
pro peel of war, in the hopes of gaining something in the
general scramble Alreadj bands were formed which began to
plunder their i lire, and to infest the surrounding distri<
1 This explanation would reconcile Davics, wl that thej
ship on tlu' 4th, with Chichester, who says th;u they sailed on the 5th.
Perhaps, however, one "f the dates is incorrect.
2 Chichester to the Council, Sept. 7. Chichester to Salisbury, S< pt. '■>,
1607, Irish Cdl. ii. 343, 347.
VOL. I. I- 1-
4iS THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. ch. x.
Chichester was not only in want of men, but money, as usual,
was very scarce. He tried to borrow 2,000/. in Dublin, but
the merchants of the capital had not forgotten the proceedings
in the Castle Chamber, and refused to lend him a shilling.
Amidst all these difficulties, Chichester kept his eye steadily
fixed upon the future. He saw at once what an opportunity
Chichester's offered itself for changing the northern wilderness
£uTeientthe into the garden of Ireland. If his plan had been
of Ulster. adopted the whole of the future history of Ireland
might have been changed, and two centuries of strife and misery
might have been spared. Let the King, he wrote, at once take
into his own hands the country which had been vacated by the
earls, and let it be divided amongst its present inhabitants.
Let every gentleman in the country have as much land as he
and all his tenants and followers could stock and cultivate.
Then, when every native Irishman of note or good desert had
u , received his share, and not till then, let the vast dis-
He hopes to
be able- to tricts which would still remain unoccupied, be given
bring the , , , . . , , . ° ,
.irators to men who had distinguished themselves in the
military or civil service of the Crown, and to colonists
from England or Scotland, who might hold their lands upon
condition of building and garrisoning castles upon them. By
this means, everything would be provided for. The country
would be put into a good state of defence, at little or no ex-
pense to the Government, and the Irish themselves would be
converted into independent and well-satisfied landholders, who
would bless the Government under which they had experienced
: an advance in wealth and prosperity. If this were not
done, Chichester concluded by saying, no alternative remained
but to drive out all the natives from Tyrone, Tyrconnell,
and Fermanagh, into some unapproachable wilderness where
they would be unable to render any assistance to an invading
army.1
The answer received from England to this proposal was
favourable. James was willing to adopt Chichester's plan ; but
it would be necessary first to proceed to the conviction of the
1 Chichester to the Council, Sept. 17, 1C07, Irish Cal. ii. 358.
1607 OCAHAN'S CLAIMS. 4' 9
fugitives, as nothing could be done with their estates before
their attainder. '
For the present, however, the Government had its
hands too full of more important matters to allow it to
, devote much time to tracing out the ramifications of
Anxiety of . ,
the Govern- an abortive conspiracy. The flight of the earls had
respect m brought with it a considerable alteration in the rela-
tions which had previously subsisted between the
Government and the chiefs of secondary rank in the North.
As long as Tyrone and Tyrconnell remained in Ulster it was
natural that their dependents should look with hope to a Govern-
ment which was likely to support them in any quarrel which
might arise between them and their superiors. But as soon
as the earls were gone, these men stepped at once into their
place. The same fear of English interference which had driven
Tyrone and Tyrconnell into rebellion now filled the minds of
their vassals with anxiety. It soon became evident that nothing
but the greatest prudence and forbearance on the part of
the English officials would succeed in maintaining the peace in
Ulster.
The two Englishmen, upon whose discretion the preserva-
tion of peace principally depended, were the Bishop and the
Governor of Dcrry. Unfortunately, at this time both
erryand these nnp< irtant posts were occupied by men emi-
nently unfitted to fulfil the duties of their position.
ther of them had been appointed at Chichester's recom-
mendation. Montgomery had obtained the bishopric throi
the favour of J. hip if. He employed himself diligently
in promoting the temporal inter* il i of the Si e, to the i ompl
of his spiritual dutii . A yeai I" fore he had supported
O'Cahan against Tyrone, because a large part of the land
which he ' laimed as the prop* rty of the See wa - in < >'( lahan's
territory,2 and he thought that it would be ea ier to reclaim
i The Council to Chichi ; f. 20. Irish Cal. ii. 3
2 "Sir Donnell is a man of bold spirit, altogethei unacquainted with
the laws and civil conversation" . . . "and undoubtedly hath niwh
malice within him, especially towards his neighbours ; yet I an) ofopi
he might have been made better by example and good usage ; and when
E E 2
4=o THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. ch. x.
them from him than from Tyrone. O'Cahan, however, showed
signs of resistance, and gave cause of suspicion to Chichester
of an intention to rebel.
The commander of the garrison at Derry, Sir George
Paulet, was, if possible, still less fitted for his post than the
sirG. Bishop of the See. He had been recently appointed
oovlmorof Dv the English Government, and it was said that
Derry. ^g 0Wed this favour to the employment of bribery.
From the first Chichester had regarded the choice with dis-
approbation.1 Not only was Paulet no soldier, but his tem-
per was beyond measure arrogant. He was soon at bitter
feud with his subordinate officers. He certainly did not incur
their dislike by over-strictness of discipline ; even the most
ordinary precautions were neglected, and — incredible as it may
seem, in the midst of a population which might rise at any
moment — he allowed the garrison to retire quietly to rest at
night, without taking even the precaution of posting a single
sentry on the walls. Such conduct had not escaped Chichester's
observant eye. If Paulet had been an officer of his
own appointment, he would, doubtless, have removed
him from his post without loss of time. As it was, he was
obliged to content himself with warning him against the conse-
quences of his negligence. Unfortunately, he had to do with
one of those who never profit by any warning.
Such a man was not likely to be a favourite amongst his
Irish neighbours. He had not been long at Derry before
lie suspects ne was on tne worst possible terms with Sir Cahir
funding O'Dogherty, the young and spirited lord of Innis-
to rebel, howen. About two months after the flight of Tyrone,
the smouldering embers of the quarrel burst out into a flame.
this nation do once find that their neighbours aim at their lands, or any
part thereof, they are jealous of them and their Government, and, assur-
edly, his first discontent grew from the Bishop's demanding great quantities
of land within his country, which never yielded, as he saith, hut a chiefry
to that see : and so did the Primate's demands add poison to that infected
heart of Tyrone."— Chichester to Salisbury, Feb. 17, 1608, Irish Cal. ii.
568.
• Chichester to Salisbury, Feb. 20, 1607, ibid. ii. 147.
1607 O' DOCHERTY ATTACKED BY PAULET. 421
On October 31, O'Dogherty collected a number of his followers,
for the purpose of felling timber. In the state of excitement
in which the country was, it was impossible for a man of
O'Dogherty's mark to bring together any considerable body
of men without exposing himself to suspicion. He was at
that time more likely to be regarded as a man inclined to
make a stir, as he had recently put arms into the hands of
about seventy of his followers. Within a few hours, therefore,
after he left his home at Birt Castle, a report spread rapidly
over the whole neighbourhood that, together with his wife and
the principal gentlemen of the district, he had taken refuge
in Tory Island, where he intended to await the return of
Tyrone. No sooner had this report reached Paulet than he
wrote to O'Dogherty, pretending to be extremely grieved at the
rumours which had reached him, and requesting him to come
at once to Deny. Paulet, after waiting a day or two for an
and fails in answer, set out for Birt Castle, accompanied by the
u?«u^S? sheriff and by what forces he was able to muster,
liirt ca-stit. jjc hoped lo be able to surprise the place in the
absence of its owner. On his arrival he found that, though
< I I >ogherty himself was absent, his wife had remained at home,
and refused to open the gates. His force was not sufficiently
large to enable him to lay siege to the place, and he had
no ilioire but to return to Derry, and to write an account
of what had passed to the Deputy. At the same time he was
able to inform him that O'Cahan had been lately showing signs
ndependence, and had been driving the Bishop's rent-
gatherers off the disputed lands.1
1 Hansard to Salisbury, Nov. 1 and 6, Irish Cat. ii. 425, 448.
O'Dogherty to Paulet, Nov. 4. Paulet to Chichester, Nov., ibid, ii. 429,
430. Chichestei to the Council, April 22, May 4, [608, ibid. ii. (162, 686.
Thai O'Dogherty was innocenl "f any intention to rebel wu believed by
Hansard, who, ai Governor of Liffbrd, «.i^ likely to be well informed,
heater, t'>'>, ipeaka of tin- matter in a letter t<> the Council <>n
April 22, as on.- 'wherein all men believed he had been wi B
side-., If he hail intended treason, Neil] Garve would certainly have known
of it; and if anything li.nl passed between them, some evidence <>f il
would surely have been discovered when witnesses were collected from . II
quarter-, at a later date.
422 THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. CH. x.
Although O'Dogherty was unwilling to trust himself in
Paulet's hands, he did not refuse to present himself before
O'Dogherty Chichester at Dublin. The Deputy, who at this time
&\ttds h'm* l°°ked with suspicion upon all the northern lords,
Chichester, listened to his story, but it was evident that he did
not altogether believe it. Having no proof against him, he
allowed him to return, after binding him in recognisances of
1,000/. to appear whenever he might be sent for. Lord Gor-
manston and Sir Thomas Fitzwilliam became securities for his
appearance. *
Shortly after his return, O'Dogherty was called upon to act
as foreman of the grand jury which was summoned to Lifford,
esat in order to find a bill for high treason against the
,rd> earls and their followers. The jury consisted of
twenty-three persons, thirteen of whom were Irish. They do
r.ot seem to have shown any backwardness, though at first
they felt some of those scruples which would naturally occur to
men who had lived under a totally different system of law from
that in the administration of which they were called to take a
part. Having expressed a doubt as to the propriety of finding
a bill against the followers, some of whom might only have
acted under coercion, they were told that the indictment with
which alone they were now concerned was only a solemn form
of accusation, and had nothing of the nature of a final sentence.
Opportunity would afterwards be given to such persons to clear
mselves, if they could. The jury were satisfied with this
answer, but wished to know how they were to find the earls
guilty of imagining the King's death, as there was no evidence
before them that either of them had ever had any such inten-
tion. They were then initiated into one of the mysteries of the
English law, and were told that every rebel conspired to take
the King's crown from him, and that it was evident that a man
who would not suffer the King to reign, would not suffer him
to live. Upon this they retired, and within an hour found a
true bill against the accused
The judges then crossed the river to Strabane, in the county
1 Chichester to the Council, Dec. II, 1607, Irish Cal. ii. 486.
1607 OUTLAWRY OF THE EARLS. 423
of Tyrone where a true bill was again found against Tyrone, on
the charge of having assumed the title of The O'Neill.1
and at He was also found guilty of murder, having executed
nineteen persons without any legal authority. After
this the judges told the grand jury that they should thank God
for the change which had come over the country. They were
now under the King's protection, who would not suffer them to
be robbed and murdered, and who would not allow anyone to
be imprisoned without lawful trial. To this address they all
answered with cries of "God bless the King !"2 A few weeks
afterwards process of outlawry was issued against the fugitives,
with a view to their attainder.3
During these months attempts were repeatedly made to
induce O'Cahan to submit himself to the authority of the
lish officers. It was only after the Deputy had
prepared a small force to march into his country, that
he submitted) and gave himself up in Dublin, where
he was kept in confinement, at his own request, till
he could disprove the < harges brought against him.
If CDogherty had been left to himself, he might possibly
have remained a loyal subject Unluckily, he fell under the
influence of the wily and hum rupulous Neill Garve,
f whose lands lay to the south of his own territory.
Neill G.irvc. , .
Neill Garve had never forgiven the Government for
preferring Rory O'Donnell to himself, and he was now more
than ever exasperated al tin- di COV< i) that the Deputy showed
DO signs of any desire to obtain for him the earldom whi< h was
once mote vacant He stirred up the excitable nature of
' I I 'oghcrty,' who was vexed at the insult \vhi< h he had re< eiv< d
1 'lli i.ly Mi].]' 'iii- da anient, in tin- body <■!
which h( 11, though in In he u ."I t he name
i yrone.
Davies to Salisbury, Jan. 6, ifx>s, frith Col. ii. 517.
1 < hichestei to the Council, Feb. 11, Chichester \>> Salisbury, Feb.
17, [608, ibid. ii. 542, 568.
* These and other statements relating to Neill Garve's procei
1 upon the depositions enclosed in Chichester's letter to Salisbury,
Oct. ji, 1609, Irish Cal. ni. 5 1 j.
424 THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. CH. x.
from Faulet, and was displeased that Chichester had thought
it necessary to require him to give bonds for his appearance.
At the same time, Phelim Reagh, O'Dogherty's foster-father,
poured oil upon the flame : he had his own injuries to complain
of, having met with harsh treatment from the judges at the last
assizes.1
By the middle of April these evil counsellors had so far
wrought upon the high spirit of this ill-advised young man as
to persuade him to throw himself headlong upon the English
power. The most extraordinary thing about the enterprise was,
that no plan whatever was formed as to the measures to be
taken in the event of success. Probably all that O'Dogherty
thought of was the prospect of immediate revenge upon Paulet.
Neill Garve seems to have been filled with confidence that,
whatever happened, his wits would succeed in securing some-
thing for himself in the general confusion. For the present, he
contented himself with informing O'Dogherty that if he suc-
ceeded in surprising Derry, he would himself make an attempt
upon Ballyshannon.
The practised eye of Hansard, the Governor of Lifford,
perceived that something unusual was in preparation. He,
Caution sent accordingly, put the town in a good state of defence,
to Pauiet. ancj at tne same time sent a warning to Paulet, to
which not the slightest attention was paid.2
The chief obstacle in the way of the conspirators was the
O'Dogher- difficulty of obtaining arms. Since Chichester's pro-
'u^ris'ing^ clamation for a general disarmament, it was almost
Cuimore. impossible to procure weapons in quantities sufficient
to give to a rebellion the chances of even a momentary success.
O'Dogherty, however, knew that arms were to be obtained at
the fort of Cuimore, which guarded the entrance to the Foyle.
Such a prize could only be gained by stratagem. On
April 1 8, therefore, he invited Captain Hart, the commander
1 Dillon to Salisbury, April 25, 1608, ibid. ii. 671.
2 The details of the sack of Derry are given by Chichester to the
Council, April 22, and Bodley to ? May 3, Irish Cal. ii. 662, 682.
See also the reports of Hart and Baker, enclosed by Chichester to the
Council, May 4, 1608, ibid. ii. 686.
1608 CDOGHERTY'S RISING. 42$
of the fort, to dine with him at his house at Buncrana. He
complained that the ladies of Derry looked down upon Lady
O'Dogherty, who was in consequence deprived of all society
suitable to her rank ; he hoped, therefore, that Hart would
bring his wife and children with him. The invitation was
accepted. As soon as dinner was over O'Dogherty led his
guest aside, and, after complaining of the Deputy's conduct
towards him, said that as Chichester would not accept him as
a friend, he should see what he could do as an enemy. He
threatened Hart with instant death unless he would surrender
the fort. Hart at once refused to listened to such a proposal.
He stood firm against his wife's entreaties, which were added
to those of Lady O'Dogherty. His host told him that his wife
and children should all perish if he persisted in his refusal, and
offered to swear that if the fort were delivered to him, not
a single creature in it should be hurt. Hart, like a sturdy
Englishman as he was, answered, ' that seeing he had so soon
Otten his oath and duty of allegiance to ' his 'Sovereign
Lord tlie King,' he 'should never trust oath that ever he made
again.' He might hew him in pieces if he would, but the fort
should not be surrendered. Upon this O'Dogherty took Hart's
wife aside, and persuaded her without difficulty to second him
in a scheme whi< h would enable him to get possession of the
fort without her husband's assistance.
Towards the evening he set (nit with about a hundred men,
and arrived alter nightfall at ( ulmore. As soon as lie came
close tO the gate he sent the lady forward with one
Surprise of ol his own Servants. She < in d out, according to her
in mictions, thai hei husband had fallen from his
horse and had broken his lr^, and that he was lying not far off.
Upon this the whole of the little garrison rushed out to help
their captain. Whilst they wen- thus employed, O'Dogherty
quietly slipped in at the gate, and took possession oi the
plai e.
Having thus obtained the arms ofwhil h he was in need, he
, ircof setoff for Deny. When he arrived at the bog by
Deny, which the town was separated from the adjoining
country, he divided his forces, and put one part under the
426 THE PLANTA TION OF ULSTER. CM. x.
command of Phelim Reagh. This division was to assault the
principal fort, which lay upon the hill, whilst O'Dogherty him-
self was to direct the attack upon a smaller fortification at the
bottom of the town, in which the munitions were stored. Their
only chance of success lay in their finding the garrison off its
guard, as there were in the town a hundred soldiers, and an
equal number of townsmen were capable of bearing arms. It
was about two in the morning when the attempt was made.
Phelim Reagh succeeded in effecting an entrance, and at once
made for Paulet's house. The Governor was roused by the
noise, and succeeded in making his escape to the house of one
of the other officers, where he was finally discovered and put
to death. After some fighting, all resistance was overcome in
this part of the town, and the buildings in the fort were set on
fire. The lower fort was seized by O'Dogherty with still less
difficulty. Lieutenant Baker, having been baffled in an attempt
to retake it, collected about one hundred and forty persons
— men, women, and children — and took possession of two
large houses, in which he hoped to be able to hold out till
relief reached him. At noon on the following day, provisions
running short, and O'Dogherty having brought up a gun from
Culmore, he surrendered, upon a promise that the lives of all
who were with him should be spared.
Neill Garve had sent sixteen of his men to join in the
attack. As soon as the place was taken, O'Dogherty, according
Neill to agreement, sent him a part of the spoil. Neill Garve
Garve'sdis- refused to take it. What he was anxious to obtain
appoint-
ment- was a share of the arms, and he was disappointed
that none had been sent.
News of what had occurred soon spread over the country.
The little garrison of Dunalong at once retired to Lifford, and
its example was followed by the Scottish colony
at Lilbrdre- which occupied Strabane. With this assistance Han-
sard made no doubt that he would be able to main-
tain himself at Lifford against any force which O'Dogherty
could send against him.
Whether Neill Garve was really offended with O'Dogherty,
or whether he was only anxious to keep well with both parties
I6c8 ODOGHERTY'S RISING. 427
it is impossible to say. It is certain that the first thing which
„ . , „ he did was to sit down and write to Chichester, re-
Ncill Garve . .
makes pro- questing him to give him the whole of the county
m-Jl of Donegal. To this modest demand Chichester
replied by advising him to show his loyalty at once,
and to trust to him for the proper reward afterwards.
The Deputy saw the necessity of crushing the rebellion
before it had time to spread. He at once despatched the
Marshal, Sir Richard Wingfield, into Ulster, with all
tentmto the troops which he was able to muster at the
moment, and prepared to follow with a larger force.
On Wingfield's approach, O'Dogherty perceived that the game
was up, unless a general rising could be effected. He set fire
to Deny, and, after leaving Phelim Reagh at Cul-
O'Dogherty .... ...
retreat, to more with thirty men, and throwing a garrison into
;usllc- Birt Castle, lie himself retired to Doe Castle, a fast-
ness at the head of She< p Haven.
To O'Dogherty's honour it must be said, that his prisoners
were all released, according to promise. Excepting in actual
conflict, no English blood was shed in the whole course of the
rebellion.
On May 20, Wingfield arrived at Deny, and, finding it in
ruins, pu bed on to Culmore. In the course of the night
Phelim Reagh sei fire to the place, and, having embarked in
or three boats all the booty he had with him, made his
[nouhowea wa) to Tory Island. Wingfield proceeded to subject
j;1"^1 Inni-.liov.cii to indiscriminate pillage.1 The cattle and
hoi es of the unfortunate inhabitants were (allied
off, and wen n to the town. men of Deny, in compensation
I es.
Neil! Garve, seeing that O'Dogherty was unable to make
the 1 nglish, thought it was tim< to
submit to the Government He accordingly came
the ( iovem- . . . '
ment. but into Wingfield I c.HI)|>, UpOH i'Minn;' a |.|otcitloIl
communi- .. . c . . . . . .
■.vith from the consequences 01 1 rli had nol
been long in the camp before he sent to( >'Doghertyj
1 Enclosures in Chichcs,ter'., letter to the Council, May 4, 1608, .'>. /'.
Irel.
42S THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. ch. x.
assuring him that he need not despair, as the forces sent
against him were by no means strong. He told him that he
had himself only submitted to necessity, and that he was in
hopes that arms would be put into the hands of himself and
his followers, in which case he would take the earliest oppor-
tunity of deserting.
Wingfield was only waiting for munitions to lay siege to Birt
Attempt to Castle. In the meanwhile he received intelligence
i :>''i")"r-her wmcn §ave n'm hopes of capturing the rebels. Neill
frustrated Garve, however, sent information to O'Dogherty of
by Neill . . ' , . ' ,. , , , , b }
(iarve'3 the plan of the English commander, and the attempt
treachery. ended ^ ^^
Not long afterwards the traitor left the camp, and betook
himself to unadvised courses, which quickly drew upon him
Arrest of the suspicions of the Marshal. He took great
Neiii Garve. numbers cf O'Dogherty's followers under his pro-
tection, and plundered those who had submitted to Wingfield.
Nor did he stop here. He presumed himself to summon the
inhabitants of the whole county to join him, as if he had been
lord of the entire inheritance of the O'Donnells.1 He com-
manded that all men who had ever carried arms should, when
they answered his summons, provide themselves with arms
under pain of a fine. This was too much for the Marshal's
patience. As his former treachery was now beginning to ooze
out, he was immediately arrested, and sent a prisoner to the
Deputy.
O'Dogherty's case was now hopeless. He was unable to
cope with Wingfield, and Chichester's forces would soon be
o'Do hen aclclecI to tr>ose of the Marshal. One desperate
defeated and attempt he made to break through the toils, perhaps
in the hope of exciting a more widely spread insur-
rection. With four hundred men he made his way across
Ulster, and surprised and set fire to the little town of Clinard,
in the neighbourhood of Armagh. But here he found that his
way was barred by Chichester's cavalry, and there was nothing
to be done but to attempt a hopeless retreat to Doe Castle,
1 Bishop of Derry to Chichester, June 15, Irish Cal. ii. 782.
1608 DEATH OF ODOGHERTY. 429
the only place where it was any longer in his power to obtain
even a temporary shelter, as Birt Castle, in which his wife, his
daughter, and his sister were, had fallen into the hands of the
English.1 It was all to no purpose : he never reached the
place of safety. On July 5, as he was approaching Kilma-
crenan, a small place about six miles to the north-west of
Letterkenny, he found Wingfield stationed across his path.
The English immediately commenced the attack, though their
numbers were considerably inferior to his.2 The Irish were
completely routed, and O'Dogherty himself was slain. It was
better so, than that he should have met the fate of a traitor.
Nothing good could ever have come of his rash and ill-timed
rebellion. But he was not a mean and treacherous enemy, like
Ncill Garve. Under other circumstances he might have lived
a useful, and even a noble, life. He had set his life upon the
throw ; but it is impossible not to feel compunction in reading
the Deputy's letter, in which he announces that, the body of
the man who had spared the prisoners of Deny having been
taken, he intended to give orders that it should be quartered,
and the fragments set up on the walls of the town where he
had shown an example of mercy to a conquered enemy.
Of his followers, some of those who could not escape were
hanged at once by martial law, and some were reserved for
trial.3 Amongst the Litter were Phelirn Reagh and one of
O'Cahan's brothers, both of whom wire executed. Two davs
,,ion after O'Dogherty's defeat, his brother in law, Oghie
Oge O'Hanlon, wenl into rebellion with a hundred
men, but was speedily overpowered. < >ne sad scene has been
handed down to u from the hi story of this abortive attempt at
insurrection, sm h a i musl ofti n have o< 1 urred in these horrible
[rfsh wars. A poor woman, We are told, 'was found alone by
' Chichester ami the Irish Council to the Council, July 2, Irish Col,
ii. 810.
• Chichester to th<- Council, July (\ ibid, ii. .S17. \[ iii<- numbers arc
correctly given, O'Dogherty mu«l have had leven hundred mm. Ashe
marched out with four hundred only, he musl have gathered followers on
his- way. The English numbers are given at thre< h
* Chichester to the Council, Aug. 3, ibid, iii. 7.
43o THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. CH. x.
an Irish soldier, who .... stripped her of her apparel,' and
left her ' in the woods, where she died the next day of cold
and famine, being lately before delivered of a child.' l
The employment of treachery by the English commanders
is even more repulsive than a casual act of cruelty. Where-
ever any of the rebels were still to be found in arms, Chichester
allowed it to be understood that he would pardon no man un-
less he could show that he had put some of his comrades to
death.2
One of the escaped bands had taken refuge on Tory Island.
Sir Henry Foliot, who was sent in pursuit, found that they
had all fled, except a constable and thirteen warders.
Foliot offered to spare the constable if he would
The mas- *■
sacreon within two hours deliver up the castle on the
island with the heads of seven of his companions,
amongst whom was to be a certain M'Swyne. While this
negotiation was going on, one of the English officers was,
by Foliot's orders, dealing with M'Swyne to kill the con-
stable and some of the others. " So," wrote Foliot coolly
to Chichester, " they departed from me, each of them being
well assured and resolved to cut the other's throat. By ill
hap, within the time appointed, it was the constable's for-
tune to get the start of the others, who killed two of them.
Presently the rest of them fled into the island, hiding them-
selves among the rocks and clefts, which, after the break of
day, I caused them to look for, and gave them two hours for
the bringing in of their heads without the assistance of any of
the soldiers ; otherwise their own were like to make up the
number promised by them ; and, after a little search, they
found three of them in a rock. The passage to it, in every
man's opinion, was so difficult that I had well hoped it would
have cost the most of their lives ; but the constable, with the
first shot he made, killed the principal ; the other two men ran
away toward us, the one of them promising some service, which
I inquired of and found little matter in it, so delivered him
1 Davies to Salisbury, Aug. 5, Irish Cal. iii. 15.
2 Chichester to the Council, Sept. 12, ibid. iii. 40.
1608 THE TORY ISLAND MASSACRE. 431
again to the constable to be hanged ; and as he was leading
him to the execution, the desperate villain, with a skean he had
secretly about him, stabbed the constable to the heart — who
never spake word— and was after by the other cut in pieces
himself with the other three, and so there were but five that
escaped. Three of them were churls, and the other two young
boys." x That an English officer could originate such a tragedy,
and calmly recount it afterwards, goes far to explain why it was
that even the efforts made by the Government in favour of the
natives did not go far to win the Celtic heart from their own
chieftains.
It was not till June 1609 that Neill Garve was brought to
trial. The evidence against him was irresistible ; but his neck
June, 1609. was saved by the old difficulty. Before the verdict
*ei!1 . was given it came to the knowledge of the court that
the jurors would never convict the lord of their own
country. Upon this an excuse was found for stopping the
He and trial.2 The prisoner was sent to England, together
Jun are with O'Cahan. They were both detained in prison
Kngiand. tjj] tnCy died, in spite of their complaints of the
illegality of such treatment.
When O'Dogherty's rebellion had been crushed, all possi-
bility of resistance was for tin: present at an end. The English
c Government had only to consider what use they
"irc- would make of theii conquest. It was necessary to
take some steps for the settlement of Ulster. On the spirit in
which the new system was introdiu cd would depend the p
pects of Ireland for centuii The temper of the native
population was such as to promise well for the success of any
•riment which might be introduced by a ruler who combined
a pi knowledge of the circumstances of the country with
a statesmanlike appreciation oi tin; want1, of the people with
whom he had to deal. The recollection <>i the harshn oi
English rule, indeed, continued to form a barrier between the
Government and a great part of the inhabitants of Ireland, and
1 Foliol l" Chichester, Sept. 8, Irish Cal. iii. 54.
3 Davia to Salisbury, June 27, ibid. iii. 398.
432 THE PLANTA TION OF ULSTER. CH. x.
to hinder any sudden loosening of the ties which had united
the people to their chiefs. But, though signs were not wanting
that those ties were not as binding as they had once been, the
task was one of no slight difficulty. Even if Chichester's plan
of treating the Irish of Ulster with justice and liberality in the
distribution of land had been followed out, no action of the
Government could have checked the daily insults of the English
population, arrogantly conscious of superiority to a despised
race. The spirit which made possible the brutalities of Tory
Island could not be allayed by any Government, however wise.
If any Englishman could conduct the settlement of Ulster
to a profitable end, it was Chichester. On October 14, he
placed some notes on the condition of the six escheated
counties of Tyrone, Donegal, Coleraine, Armagh, Fermanagh,
and Cavan, in the hands of Sir James Ley and Sir John Davies,
the Irish Chief Justice and Attorney-General, who were to visit
1608. England in order to lay the ideas of the Irish
nohteCshoner's Government before the English Privy Council at a
Ulster. consultation in London, in which they had been
summoned to take a part.1 In these notes the Deputy entered
at length into the character and circumstances of the principal
natives, and concluded by recommending, as he had already
done by letter, that they should be satisfied with grants of land.
When that had been done, and the officers who were to
head the settlements, which were virtually to act as garrisons
for the country, had also received their shares, whatever re-
mained undisposed of might be thrown open to English and
Scottish colonists.
On their arrival, Ley and Davies were directed to join with
Sir Oliver St. John, Sir Henry Docwra, Sir Anthony St. Leger,
Commission and Sir James Fullerton, in drawing up a plan for
in London. tp,e pr0pCseci colonisation, or, as it was called, the
plantation of Ulster. On December 20, these commissioners
produced a scheme for the settlement of the county of Tyrone,2
and, at no long interval, they extended its principles to embrace
1 Chichester's instructions, Oct. 14, 1608, Irish Cal. iii. 97.
2 Keport of the Commission, Pec. 20, Irish Cal. iii. 202.
I Cog RIVAL PLANS OF COLONISATION. 433
the whole of the six counties.1 In many respects their sugges-
tions were not unlike those which had been made by Chichester.
1609. They proposed, as he had done, that the new inha-
£* bitants of Ulster should be composed of the retired
,jrtj^nof ci^'il and military servants of the Crown, and of
Chkhester. English and Scottish colonists. But whilst Chichester
would have treated with the Irish as being the actual possessors
of the soil, and would only have admitted the colonists after
the bargain with the natives had been completed, the Commis-
sioners were ready to look upon the map of the North of Ireland
as if it had been a sheet of white paper, and to settle natives and
colonists in any way which might appear at the time to be most
convenient They were all men who knew Ireland well ; but
the question was one of that kind which demands something
more than personal knowledge of a country. Of the part which
each of them took in the production of the scheme there is no
evidence whatever, but the error which was committed was so
precisely of the kind which was likely to proceed from I >.i\ ies,
thnt it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that it is principally
to him that the mischief is to be traced
No doubt the phn of the Commissioners was attended by
considerable advantages. By bringing the Irish to inhabit
separate districts assigned to them by the Government, they
would be withdrawn from those defensible positions which
... , , might prove formidable in case of another outbreak.
Ice of ' . ...
' )f still greater importance was it to leave a con-
tinuous trad of land for the sole use of the English
colonists, whose safety would be endangered if their po 1
sions were intermingled with those <>f the Irish, who v.
little disposed to look with favour upon the intruders on
their native soil. But all these arguments were as nothing in
the face Of the manifest injustice of tearing away a whole popu-
lation from its homes. The one hope for Ireland was that the
Irish themselves should learn that it was possible to n gard t! I
eminent with loyalty. Whatever mistaki n com
1 A project for the division of the escheated counties, Jan. 23, Irish
Cal. iii. 24 1.
VOL. I. F F
434 THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. ch. X.
mitted during the first five years of James's reign, the policy
adopted by Chichester had been, at all events, such as to foster
the notion that his aim was the protection of the native popu-
lation against the exorbitant power of their own lords. What-
ever good-will may have been won in this way was lost for ever
if the scheme of the Commissioners should be adopted. It
was not as if the land question had concerned the prominent
chiefs alone ; in spite of all the practical oppression which had
been exercised, no idea was more strongly rooted in the Irish
mind than that the land was the property, not of the chief, but
of the sept ; and that the poor were equally interested with the
rich in defending the tenure of the soil. With a little manage-
ment and fair dealing, such a feeling would probably have
passed away before the softening influence of increased material
prosperity. But a forcible removal of a whole population could
only be regarded as a violation of its dearest rights. The
poorest herdsman who wandered after his cattle over the bogs
and mountains would treasure up in his heart the remembrance
of the great confiscation which had robbed him of the lands of
his ancestors, and had placed them at the feet of the stranger.
It is not too much to say that upon this apparently simple
question the whole of the future fate of Ireland depended,
its extreme For when once that decision was taken, there would
importance, De no possibility of drawing back. If the plan of the
Deputy were carried out, Ireland would be left, in the main, to
its own inhabitants, and the English Government would have
limited its interference to that salutary control and education
which a more advanced race is capable of exercising over
another in a more backward condition. If, on the other hand,
the scheme of the Commissioners were adopted, Ulster was
inevitably doomed to a confiscation which would hand it over to
an alien race ; here, too, as in some other parts of Ireland, there
would be a chasm which nothing could bridge over between
the old and the new possessors of the soil. The religious dif-
ferences, which, under other circumstances, as the Government
grew wiser with the course of time, would cease to trouble it,
would become the watchwords of the opposing races, which
would learn to hate one another with a hatred greater than
i6o9 BACOX'S ADVICE.
435
even that to which theological rancour can give birth. In the
midst of the strife the government itself would deteriorate.
Those who from time to time exercised its powers would be
more than human if they were able to mete out indifferent
justice, between Protestant Englishmen and men of an alien
race, whose religion they detested, and whose submission was
to be secured by force alone, excepting at the price of
sacrifices which they were unwilling, and probably unable,
to make.
Nothing of all this was foreseen by the well-meaning men
who had been employed to draw up the regulations for the
Bac future colony. Nor was either James or Salisbury
tS»dt& likely t0 conit; to their help. Even the man of trans-
cendent genius who was ready to give his advice
upon the subject failed to grasp the real bearings of the case.
Bacon had long cast his eyes with sorrow and impatience upon
the distracted condition of Ireland. The work of reducing it
to civilisation was more likely to enlist his sympathies than
even the Union with Scotland or the abolition of feudal tenures
in England. Above all things he hated anarchy, and the pro«
posed enterprise was welcome to him as the heaviest blow
which had yet been dealt to the chronic anarchy of Ireland.
By the side of such a work as this, he himself has told us,
he looked upon the Virginian colony as upon the romantic
achievements of Amadis de Gaul when compared with the
Is related in Caesar's Commentaries.
A few days after the first report of the Commissioners was
. Bacon drew up,1 on the subject which had been
ii ... occupying his mind, a short treatise, which he pre
sented to the King as a New dear's gift.2 As is the
with everything else which proceeded from his
pen, the few pages of which il consisted term with lessons of
practical wisdom. On every point upon which he tou< hed he-
had something to say which deserved the attention even of
those who were immediately familiar with the ' ountry of whi< h
1 Letters and Life, iv, 116.
2 Dacon to the King {ibid, iv. 114)
1 t 2
436 THE PLANT ATI OX OF ULSTER. CH. X.
he was writing. But that which, at this distance of time,
strikes the reader far more than the insight into the facts of
the case which he displayed, is the complete absence of the
slightest allusion to the feelings and wishes of the native popu-
lation, or to the not improbable consequences of the dislike
with which they would be certain to regard the intruders.
Where a modern writer would see a wild independence which,
if once it were trained to obedience, would form the surest
foundation for liberty, Bacon saw nothing more than the
anarchy which actually prevailed; and with his exaggerated
faith in the power of government to educe order out of con-
fusion by regulative measures, he left James and his adviseis
without a word of warning.
If it was unfortunate that Bacon should have failed to point
out the way to better things, it was no less unfortunate that
Chichester, who alone had the wisdom to recommend
viewseonethe the adoption of a juster system, should have been
4i.est.on. influenced merely by motives of practical expediency.
It was not to the future embarrassments of his successors that
he was looking when he drew up his scheme : it was only the
present difficulty of removing the septs which had deterred
him from adopting the view which had found favour in London.1
But he took care to remind the Commissioners that the Irish
were certain to put forward claims which were disregarded in
the new scheme, and he informed them that he had himself
ordered the publication in Tyrone of the King's intention
to settle all the principal men in competent freeholds if they
could give assurance of their loyalty.2
According to the scheme of the Commissioners, the portions
1 " Now you must note that many of the natives in each county do
claim freehold in the lands they possess, and albeit their demands are not
justifiable by law, yet is it hard and almost impossible to displant them ;
wherefore I wish that a consideration may be had of the best and chief of
them, albeit they were all in Tyrone's last rebellion, and have now hearts
and minds alike."— Chichester's instructions, Oct. 14, 1608, Irish Col.
iii. 97«
■' Chichester to the Privy Council, March 10, 1609, ibid. iii. 292.
1609 THE SCHEME OF THE COMMISSIONERS. 437
into which the escheated lands were to be divided were to
be of three different sizes — of one thousand, fifteen
Publication hundred, and two thousand acres respectively. ' Each
missionere' proprietor was to build on his estate either a castle
or a walled enclosure, with or without a stone house,
according to the amount of land he held. The English and
Scottish undertakers, to whom the greater part of the land was
assigned, were to be prohibited from alienating their lots to
Irishmen, or from permitting any native to hold land under
them. On the land assigned to the officers, a certain number
of Irish were permitted to remain, but for the most part they
were to be banished either to the portions assigned to the land-
owners of their own race, or to desolate regions in other parts
of Ireland.
It had been originally intended that the colonists
The colom- to J .
should present themselves in Ireland at Midsummer
1609, but it was found necessary to defer the com-
mencement of the undertaking till the following year.2 Some
of the provisions of the scheme had been found to be dis-
tasteful to those who were likely to give in their names, and it
was proposed to alter the arrangements in these respects. Time
1 The following is the proposed division according to the second report
of the Commission. The calculation is given in acres : —
Engl
isli Mid Scotch
Si rvitoi ,
IrMi
Tyrone
•
45,000 .
I4,000 .
10,000
( loleraine .
.
15,000 .
I,5<»0 .
6,500
Donegal .
.
47,000 .
IO.OOO .
. 18,500
Fermanagh
.
.
4,500 .
8,500
Cavan
.
8,000 .
8,000 .
16 500
Armagh .
•
35,000 .
7,500 .
|O,OO0
150,000 45, 500 70,00c
According to the Mustei Roll p» lented by Mr. Gilbert (./ Contemporary
Hi tory of Affairs in Ireland, i. 332), these six countii whi i) settled pro-
duced from amongst the COloni > , :i mil tei Ol 7,336 armed men, uli h
in a settled county would imply a population of about 29,000. As, how-
ever, there would he few aged persons amongst them, it would hardly be
safe to reckon more than 20,000.
2 Reasons proving that the deferring of the Plantation is most con-
venient. May, Irish Cal. iii. 326.
433 THE PLANTA TION OF ULSTER. CH. X.
was also required for surveying the country, for tracing out the
lands for the officers' settlements, and for removing the native
population.
In the course of the summer, Chichester, accompanied by
a large number of the members of the Irish Privy Council, went
Survey of down as Commissioners to carry out the intended
the lands. survey.1 The surveyors were accompanied at every
step of the way by a guard, having a lively recollection that the
inhabitants of Tyrconnell had, a few years previously, cut off
the head of a certain Berkeley, who had been sent down to
survey the district. On this occasion, however, the Deputy's
force was so overpowering that no resistance was attempted.2
During the ensuing winter, Chichester had time to think
over the results of his experience. In a paper which he drew
up for the information of the Home Government, he
IOIO. r . . .
Chichester's again urged the necessity of making sufficient pro-
settlement of vision for the Irish. If he had relinquished the plan
of satisfying the natives before the admission of the
colonists, he was still anxious that they should be treated with
as much fairness as was compatible with the destiny which had
been assigned to them, in order that as little room as was pos-
sible might be left for complaint.3 The English Government,
unhappily, had lost all sense of feeling for the natives. In the
preceding summer they had ordered the levy of several hundreds
to serve in the Swedish wars. No doubt there were many
turbulent persons in the north of Ireland whom it would be
difficult to induce to settle down under peaceful conditions.
But in expressing a wish that as many natives as possible might
be ' vented out of the land,' they gave evidence of a temper
which was not likely to help them to govern Ireland well.4
When the summer of 1610 came, the Deputy once more
1 The King to Chichester, June 30. Chichester to Salisbury, July 18,
Irish Cal. iii. 406, 432.
- Davies to Salisbury, Aug. 28, ibid. iii. 471.
3 Certain considerations touching the Plantation, by Sir A. Chichester,
Jan. 27, ibid. iii. 587.
* The Council to Chichester, Aug. 3, 1609, ibid. iii. 454.
i6io THE REMOVAL OF THE IRISH. 439
proceeded to the north. He first went into Cavan, where he
found that the Irish had procured the services of a
He goes into * .
Ulster in lawyer from the Pale to urge their claims. This man
remove the argued that, in reality, the land was the property of
the native holders, and asked to have the benefit of
the proclamation which Chichester had published soon after
his accession to office, in which a declaration had been made
that the lands and goods of all loyal subjects would be taken
under His Majesty's protection. Davies met him with the
ready answer, that the Irish holdings gave no ownership which
the law could recognise. To this was added the extraordinary
argument, that they could not possibly be considered as having
any hereditary title; in the first place, because 'they never
esteemed lawful matrimony to the end they might have lawful
heirs : ' and, in the second place, because ' they never built any
houses, nor planted any orchards or gardens, nor took any care
of their posterities — both which they would have done if they
had had estates descendible to their lawful heirs.' As a natural
consequence, they had no lands to which the proclamation
could apply.1 Davies docs not inform us what effect this
miserable reasoning had upon the Irish* but there can be
little doubt that the presence Of the Lord Deputy and his troops
was far more effectual than the logic of the Attorney-General.
In Fermanagh and Donegal there was little remonstrance,
but in the other three counties the Deputy found it by no
,, djffi. means easy to effect his purpose. There is something
cuM VL.ry touching in the tone of the letter in which he
I • an account to Salisbury of his difficulties. He writes as a
man who sees that his wisest schemes have been ruined by the
folly of others, but who is al the same time prepared to do his
duty unflinchingly, and to make the most of that whi< h others
had done their best to mar. Two years before ' he had thought
of little more than of the difficulties of overcoming resistance
if he were compelled to deal harshly with the natives. Hi
had now learned to sympathise with them. The Irish, he writes,
1 Davies to Salisbury, Sept, 24, Irish Cal. iii. 874, and printed in St
J. Davies's Tracts.
2 P. 436.
4-Jo THE PLANTATION OF ULSTER. ch. x.
are discontented. They were nearly ready to have left their
barbarous habits and to have submitted themselves loyally to
the King. But the land which had been assigned to them was
insufficient for their maintenance, and the golden opportunity
of winning their hearts had been lost. Chichester felt deeply
the injury thus done to Ireland, and was almost inclined to
fancy that the blunder of the Commissioners had arisen from
ill feeling towards himself.1
The effects of this disastrous policy were not long in
manifesting themselves. So general was the discontent that
Discontent Chichester found it necessary, upon his return to
in Ulster. Dublin, to leave behind him double garrisons in the
fortresses by which the northern province was commanded.2
1 ' The natives of these counties . . . are generally discontented and
repine greatly at their fortunes, and the small quantities of land left unto
them upon the division, especially those of the counties of Tyrone,
Armagh, and Coleraine, who having reformed themselves in their habit
and course of life beyond others, and the common expectation held of
them (for all that were able had put on English apparel and did promise
to live in townreds, and to leave their creaghting), did assure themselves
of better conditions from the King's Majesty than those they lived in under
their former landlords, but now they say they have not land given them,
nor can they be admitted tenants, which is more grievous unto them. I
have both studied and laboured the reformation of that people, and could
have prevailed with them in any reasonable matter, though it were new
unto them ; but now I am discredited among them, for they have far less
quantities assigned unto them in those counties than in the other three ;
in which the Commissioners . . . were, in my opinion, greatly overseen,
or meant not well unto me ; for to thrust the servitors with all the natives
of a whole county which payed the King near 2,000/. rent yearly, into
little more than half a barony (as in Tyrone) was a great oversight, if not
out of ill-meaning. If I speak somewhat feelingly in this particular, it is
to your Lordship to whom I must and will appeal when I conceive I
suffer wrong, in which I humbly beseech your Lordship to excuse me, for
I have some reason to doiibt the affection of some of those Commissioners
towards me, though I never deserved ill at their hands, and I humbly pray
your Lordship that I may not be guided by any direction of others, for
they know not Ireland so well as I do, especially Ulster, nor do they wish
better to the good and prosperity thereof, nor to the advancement of the
King's profit and service.'- — Chichester to Salisbury, Sept. 27, Irish Cat.
iii. 876.
2 Chichester to the Council, Sept. 27, 1610, ibid. iii. 878.
:6n MATERIAL PROSPERITY OF ULSTER. 441
During the course of the next year some progress was made
in the colonisation of the country. Of the undertakers some
indeed never came near the lands which had been
IOII.
Progress of allotted to them, but there were others who entered
the colony. . . . .
heartily upon the enterprise. When in the summer
months Lord Carew, the former President of Munster,1 came
over to report on the condition of the country, he found the
busy sound of the forge and the mill in many a spot where
such sounds were heard for the first time. Schools and
churches were springing up. The City of London had taken
in hand the settlement of Derry, which was now to be re-
built under the name of Londonderry, and to give its name
to the county in which it stood, and which had hitherto
been known as the county of Coleraine. To all appearance the
change was for the better; but the disease was too deeply rooted
to be removed by such signs of outward prosperity. For the
present, indeed, all was quiet. Feeling that resistance was
•less, those among the Irish to whom lands had been
assigned had removed sullenly to their scanty possessions.2
Put the mass of the inhabitants remained in their own homes.
They made themselves too useful to be removed, and by per
mission or by connivance the arrangement lor the separation
of the two races was broken throu !i The)- remained to
feel that they were in bondage to an alien race. They knew
that they were despised as barbarians by men who had robbed
them of their lands. There was not an Irishman who plied his
daily task for l English or Scottish employer who did not
cherish in his heart the belief that he and his were the true
lords of the soil, and who did not look forward with hi
the day when the greal O'Neill should return from his warn
ings, and should give back the land to those to whom it of
right belong! d,
1 Report, Jan. 29, Lai • AfSS, 630, fol. 42.
2 Chich' ury, Dec. 12, 1610, Irish Cat. iii. 92S.
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. 12*.
I loin. !8».
Ilclll .!■ aril.
,' Ooli i" i
Hull i I Modern U uric, ^-n. B*. Gd.
■'. :•].(.
Kerl'i M> talliirg] I role. Bto. E L
■ . • '■■!.
"v... 10
Mnralister's Zoology and I. 10*. Gd.
Mncfarnii
London: LONGMANS, GREEN, i I 0,
8
General Lists of Works.
Miller's Elements of Chemistry, Theoretical and Practical. 3 vols. 8vo. Part I.
Chemical Physics, 16*. Part II. Inorganic Chemistry, 24s. Part III. Organic
Chemistry, price 31s. Gd.
Mitchell's Manual of Practical Assaying. 8vo. 31s. Gd.
Northcott's Lathes and Turning. Svo. 18*.
Owen's Comparative Anatomy and Physiology of the Vertebrate Animals.
3 vols. 8vo. 73*. Gd.
Payen's Industrial Chemistry. Edited by B. H. Paul, Ph.D. 8vo. 42*.
Piesse's Art of Perfumery. Square crown 8vo. 21*.
Reynolds's Experimental Chemistry. Fcp. Svo. Part I. 1*. Gd. Part II. 2*. 6<Z.
Part III. 3*. Gd.
Schellen's Spectrum Analysis. 8vo. 31*. Gd.
Sennett's Treatise on the Marine Steam Engine. Svo. 21*.
Smith's Air and Rain. Svo. 24*.
Stoney's The Theory of the Stresses on Girders, &c. Royal 8vo. 36*.
Swinton's Electric Lighting : Its Principles and Practice. Crown 8vo. 5*.
Tilden's Practical Chemistry. Fcp. 8vo. 1*. Gd.
Tyndall's Faraday as a Discoverer. Crown Svo. 3s. Gd.
— Floating Matter of the Air. Crown Svo. 7s. Gd.
— Fragments of Science. 2 vols, post 8vo. 1C*.
— Heat a Mode of Motion. Crown Svo. 12*.
— Lectures on Light delivered in America. Crown 8vo. 5*.
— Lessons on Electricity. Crown Svo. 2*. Gd.
— Notes on Electrical Phenomena. Crown Svo. 1*. sewed, Is. 6(7. cloth.
— Notes of Lectures on Light. Crown 8vo. Is. sewed, Is. Gd. cloth.
— Sound, with Frontispiece and 203 Woodcuts. Crown Svo. 10*. Gd.
Watts's Dictionary of Chemistry. 9 vols, medium 8vo. £15. 2s. Gd.
Wilson's Manual of Health-Science. Crown Svo. 2*. Gd.
THEOLOGICAL AND RELIGIOUS WORKS.
Arnold's (Rev. Dr. T: rmons. 6 vols, crown Svo. 5s. each.
Boultbee's Comui< ntary on the 39 Articles. Crown 8vo. 6*.
Browne's (BLshop) Exposition of the 39 Articles. 8vo. 16*.
Colenso on the Pentateuch and Book of Joshua. Crown 8vo. 6*.
Cond' •: ">ok of the Bible. Post Svo. 7s. 6c?.
Conybeare & Howpon's Life ami Letters of St. Paul : —
Library Edition, with Maps, Plate-, and Woodcuts. 2 vols, square crown
8vo. 21*.
Student's Edition, revised and condensed, with 46 Illustrations and Maps.
1 vol. crown 8vo. 7s. Gd,
Cox's (Homersham) The First Century of Christianity. 8vo. 12*.
Davidson's Introduction to the Study of the New Testament. 2 vols. 8vo. 30*.
Edersheim's Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah. 2 vols. 8vo. 42*.
— Prophecy and History in relation to the Messiah. Svo. 12*.
EUicott's (Bishop) Commentary on St. Paul's Epistles. 8vo. Galatians, 8*. Gd.
Ephesians, 8*. Gd. Pastoral Epistles, 10*. Gd. Philippians, Colossians and
Philemon, 10*. Gd. Thessaloniaus, 7*. Gd.
Lectures on the Life of our Lord. 8vo. 12*.
Ewald's Antiquities of Israel, translated by Solly. 8vo. 12*. Gd.
— History of Lsrael, translate'! by Carpenter & Smith. Vols. 1-7, 8vo. £5.
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Hobart's Medical Language of St. Luke. 8vo. 16s.
Hopkins's Christ the Consoler. Fcp. 8vo. 2s. 6d.
Jukes's New Man and the Eternal Life. Crown 8vo. Gs.
— Second Death and the Restitution of all Things. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.
— Types of Genesis. Crown 8vo. 7s. Gd.
— The Mystery of the Kingdom. Crown 8vo. 3*. Gd.
Lenonnant's New Translation of the Book of Genesis. Translated into English.
8vo. 10*. M.
Lyra Germanica : Hymns translated by Miss Winkworth. Fcp. 8vo. 5s.
Ifaedonald's (Gk) Unspoken Sermons. Second Series. Crown 8vo. Is. Gd.
Ding's Temporal Mi— ion of the Ho! Crown 8vo. 8s. Gd.
Martineau's Endeavours after the Christian Life. Crown 8vo. 7s. Gd.
Hymns of Praise and Prayer. Crown 8vo. 4s. Gd. 32mo. Is. Gd.
— Sermons, Hours of Thought on Sacred Tilings. 2 vols. 7s. Gd. each.
igs for Sundays and Holidays. Fcp. 8vo. 5s. 18mo. 2s.
MUller'9 (Max) Origin and Growth of Religion. Crown 8vo. 7
— * — Science of Religion. Crown 8vo. ".«. 6d.
Newman's Apologia pro Vita Buft. Crown 8vo. Gs.
— The hlea of a University Defined and Wustrat d. Crown 8vo. 7s.
— Historical Sketches. 3 vol-", crown 8vo. Gs. each.
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General Lists of Works.
Bent's The Cyclades, or Life among the Insular Greeks. Crown Svo. 12s. 6U.
Brassey's Sunshine and Storm in the East. Crown 8vo^ 7*. 6rf.
— Voyage in the Yacht ' Sunbeam.' Crown 8vo. 7s. Bd. School Edition,
fcp. 8vo. 2s. Popular Edition, 4to. 6J.
— In the Trades, the Tropics, and the 'Roaring Forties.' Edition de
Luxe, Svo. £3. 13s. Bd. Library Edition, Svo. 21s.
Crawford's Across the Pampas and the Andes. Crown 8vo. Is. (id.
Dent's Above the Snow Line. Crown 8vo. It, Bd.
Fronde's Oceana ; or, England and her Colonies. Svo. 18*.
Hassall's San Remo Climatically considered. Crown 8vo. 5s.
Howitt's Visits to Remarkable Places. Crown Svo. 7s. 6d.
Maritime Alps (The) and their Seaboard. By the Author of ' Vera.' 8vo. 21s.
Three in Norway. By Two of Them. Crown 8vo. Illustrations, 6s.
WORKS OF FICTION.
Beaconsfield's (The Earl of) Novell and Tales. Hughenden Edition, with 2
Portraits on Steel and 11 Vignettes on Wood. 11 vols, crown Svo. £2. 2>.
Cheap Edition, 11 vols. fcp. 8vo. Is. each, sewed ; 1*. Bd. each, cloth..
Black Poodle (The) and other Tales. By the Author of ' Vice Versa.* Cr. 8vo. 6*.
Brabourne's (Lord) Friends and Foes from Fairyland. Crown 8vo. 6s.
Harte (Bret) On the Frontier. Three Stories. 16mo. Is.
— — By Shore and Sedge. Three Stories. 16mo. Is.
In the Olden Time. By the Author of ' Mademoiselle Mori.' Crown 8vo. (is.
Melville's (Whyte) Novel* Cheap Edition. 8 vols. fcp. Svo. 1*. each, sewed ;
Is. C'/. each, cloth.
The Modern Novelet'- Library. Crown Svo. price 2s. each, boards, or 2».
each, doth :
By the Earl of Beaconsfield, K.G.
Lothair.
Sybil.
Coningsby.
Tancred.
Venetia.
ECenrietta Temple.
Contarini Fleming.
Alroy, Ixion.
The Young J take Sic.
Vivian Grey.
Endymion.
B
In the Carquinez Woods.
By Mrs. Oliph
In Trust, the Story of a Lady
.
By James Payn.
Thicker than Water.
i1 . < > 1 1 \ 'I'rnllope.
theater Towers.
The Warden.
tjor Whyte Melville.
Digby Grand.
General Bounc
Kate Coventry.
The Gladiators.
< lood tor Nothing.
by House.
The Interpreter.
The Queen's Mai
By Various Writers.
The Atelier du Lys.
Atherstone Priory.
The Bur Family.
a and her Vulture.
Mademoiselle Mori.
- of the Valleys.
Una\.
Bd.
' ,',-n Svo. 3s. Gd.
Oliph .1 Malum. CrOWD 8V0. ■', ■
(James) The Luck of theDarrells.
: 'airy Prince Pollow-my-Lead. » Irown 8vi
Sewell's (Miss) Stories and T: I linet Kdition. Crown 8vo. cloth extra,
gilt edges, price 3*. Bo : —
Amy' Herbert. Cleve Hall. A Glimpse of the World.
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■e of Life. Laneton Pi
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sewed ; 1*. G</. cloth.
Sturgis' My Friend and I. Crown Svo. 5s.
POETRY AND THE DRAMA.
Baili . a Poem. Crown Svo. 12*. 6./.
BowdlerV Family Shakespeare. Medium 8vo. 14*. 6 vols. fcp. 8vo. 21.?.
Dante's Divine Comedy, translated by James Innes Mincliin. Crown 8vo. 15*.
i by Birds. Large crown 8vo. 12*. Gd.
— — translated by Webb. 8vo. 12*. Bd.
— — edited b ■> 8vo. 0*.
Ingelow's I'c i =. Vols. 1 and 2, fcp. 8vo. l'2s. Vol. 3 fcp. 8vo. 5s.
Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome, with Ivry and the Armada. Illustrated by
Wegnelin. Crown-. I dlt edges.
The -ami. Annotate fcp. 8vo. I*. ewed,l*.6i. cloth, 2*. 6i. cloth extra.
The I Ion. Wustrated by Sobarf. Fcp. 4to.6tf.swd.,l*. cloth.
Macdona Book of Strife : In the Form of the Diarj of an Old Soul:
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Pennell's ('holmoudoley) 'From Grave t" I a Volume of E
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Ro'>i; Poem . ' rowii 8TO. 6*.
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South iinm BVO,
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Vir Oonlngi
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Dun i
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Neril Orown
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Dgy. 8vo. l.'ii.
Stonoh'-ngo'fl I>oi: in Health ind D ii 8to. 7'. Bd.
— '. r.,',vn HVii. |.')«.
Taylor's Afrriculttira I*. I ./.
Vflk on .' i
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SPORTS AND PASTIMES.
The Badminton Library of Sports rn i Pastimes. Edited by the Duke of Beaufort
A. E. T. Watson. With numerous Illustrations. Crown Svo. 10s. Gd.
Hunting, by the Duke of Beaufort, &c.
Fishing, by II. Cbolmondeley-Pennell, &c - vol-.
Racing, by the Earl of Suffolk, &c.
i >ell-Walker's Correct Card, or How to Play at Whist. Fcp. Svo. 2s. 6c?.
D( id Shot (Tlie) by Marlfflman. Crown Svo. 10s. 6.7.
Francis's Treatise on Fishing in all its Branches. Post Svo. 15*.
Jefferies' The Red Deer. Crown 8vo. 4.?. Gd.
Longman's Chess Openings. Fcp. 8vo. 2s. Gd.
Peel's A Highland Gathering. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. 10s. 6d.
Pole's Theory of the Modern Scientific Game of Whist. Fcp. 8vo. 2s. 6c7.
Proctor's How to Play Whist. Crown 8vo. 5s.
Is's Fly-Fisher'* Entomology. 8vo. 14s.
y's Chess Eccentricities. Crown Svo. 10s. Gd.
Wilcocks's Sea-Fisherman. P. st Svo. 6s.
'8 Sport (The) for 1885. Svo. 21s.
ENCYCLOP/EDIAS, DICTIONARIES, AND BOOKS OF
REFERENCE.
i's Modern Cookery for Private Families. Fcp. 8vo. 4s. Gd.
of Bible Knowledge. Fcp. 8vo. 6s.
Brande's Dicti' 3cience, Literature, and Art. 3 vols, medium 8vo. 63s.
Cabinet Lawyer (The), a Popular Digest of the Laws of England. Fcp. 8vo. 9s.
ary of General Biography. Medium 8vo. 28s.
Doyle's The Official Baronage of England. Vols. I.-III. 3 vols. 4to. £5. 5s. ;
Large Paper Edition, £10. U*.
Gwilt's Encyclopedia of Architecture. 8vo. 52s. t'ul.
Keith Johnston's Dictionary of Geography, or General Gazetteer. Svo. 42s.
Latham's (Dr.) Edition of Johnson's Dictionary. 4 vols. 4to. £7.
— — — — — — Abridged. Royal 8vo. 14s.
M'CulIoch's Dictionary of Commerce and Commercial Navigation. 8vo. 63s.
Maunder's Biographical Treasury. Fcp. 8vo. 6s.
— Historical Treasury. Fcp. 8vo. 6s.
— Scientific and Literary Treasury. Fcp. 8vo. 6s.
— Treasury of Bible Knowledge, edited by Ayre. Fcp. 8vo. 6s.
-tiry of Botany, edited by Lindley & Moore. Two Parts, 12s.
— Treasury of Geography. Fcp. 8vo. 6s.
— Treasury of Knowledge and Library of Reference. Fcp. 8vo. 6s.
Treasury of Natural History. Fcp 8vo. 6s.
Quoin's Dictionary of Medicine. Medium Svo. 31s. Gd., or in 2 vols. 34*.
Reeve's Cookery and Housekeeping. Crown 8vo. 7s. Gil.
i Dictionary of Roman and Greek Antiquities. Crown 8vo. 7s. Gd.
Roget's Thesaurus of English Words and Phrases. Crown Svo. 10s. Gd.
Ure's Dictionary of Arts, Manufactures, and Mines. 4 vols, medium 8vo. £7. It.
Wfllich's Popular Tables, by Marriott. Crown 8vo. 10s.
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