Cassell's History of England. Vol III - From the Great Rebellion to the Fall of Marlborough.

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Title: Cassell's History of England. Vol III - From the Great Rebellion to the Fall of Marlborough.
Author: Cassells, Joe
Language: English
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CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND

CASSELL'S

HISTORY OF ENGLAND

FROM THE GREAT REBELLION TO
THE FALL OF MARLBOROUGH

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS,
INCLUDING COLOURED
AND REMBRANDT PLATES

VOL. III

_THE KING'S EDITION_

CASSELL AND COMPANY, LIMITED
LONDON, NEW YORK, TORONTO AND MELBOURNE
MCMIX

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I.

THE GREAT REBELLION. PAGE

Condition of Ireland--Roger Moore's Pilgrimage--Negotiations of the
Anglo-Irish with Charles--Hugh M'Mahon betrays the Plot--Rising
of the Native Irish--Massacre of Protestants--Measures taken by
the English Parliament--Return of Charles to London--The Grand
Remonstrance--The King's Answer--His Lieutenant of the Tower--Riots
in London--Blunder of the Bishops--Attempted Arrest of the Five
Members--Charles leaves London--The Queen goes to Holland--Charles
at York--His Repulse from Hull--Preparations for War--The Royal
Standard Raised--Prince Rupert's Headstrong Folly--Battle of Edge
Hill--Charles marches on London--He returns to Oxford--Cromwell in
the East--The Queen in Yorkshire--Death of Hampden--Parliamentary
Disasters--Battle of Newbury--Death of Lord Falkland--Negotiations
with the Scots and Irish--Death of Pym--Royal Parliament at
Oxford--Battle of Marston Moor--Disastrous Failure of Essex in
Cornwall--Second Battle of Newbury--The Self-denying Ordinance--The
New-modelled Army 1

CHAPTER II.

THE GREAT REBELLION (_concluded_).

The Assembly at Westminster--Trial and Death of Laud--Negotiations
at Uxbridge--Meeting of the Commissioners--Impossibility
of a Settlement--Prospect of Help to the King from the
Continent--Charles agrees to the demands of the Irish
Catholics--Discipline and Spirit of the Parliamentary
Army--Campaign of the New-modelled Army--Hunting the King--Battle
of Naseby--Fairfax in the West--Exploits of Montrose--Efforts of
Charles to join Him--Battle of Kilsyth--Fall of Bristol--Battle
of Philiphaugh--Last Efforts of the Royalists--Charles Offers to
Treat--Discovery of his Correspondence with Glamorgan--Charles
Intrigues with the Scots--Flight from Oxford--Surrender to
the Scots at Newark--Consequent Negotiations--Proposals for
Peace--Surrender of Charles to Parliament 34

CHAPTER III.

END OF THE REIGN OF CHARLES I.

Differences between the Presbyterians and Independents--The King
at Holmby--Attempt to Disband the Army--Consequent Petitions
to Parliament--The Adjutators--Meeting at Newmarket--Seizure
of the King--Advance of the Army on London--Stubbornness
of the Presbyterians--The Army Marches through London--Its
Proposals to Charles--Their Rejection--The King throws away
his best Chances--The Levellers--Cromwell's Efforts on
behalf of Charles--Renewed Intrigues of Charles--Flight to
Carisbrooke--Attempts to Rescue the King--Charles Treats with the
Scots--Consequent Reaction in his Favour--Battle of Preston and
Suppression of the Insurrection--Cromwell at Edinburgh--The Prince
of Wales in Command of the Fleet--Negotiations at Newport--Growing
Impatience of the Army--Petitions for the King's Trial--Charles's
Blindness and Duplicity--He is Removed to Hurst Castle--Pride's
Purge--Supremacy of the Independents--The Whiggamores--Hugh Peters'
Sermon in St. Margaret's, Westminster--Ordinance for the King's
Trial--Trial and Execution of Charles I. 59

CHAPTER IV.

THE COMMONWEALTH.

Proclamation of the Prince of Wales Forbidden--Decline
of the Peerage--_Ultimus Regum_--Establishment of a
Republican Government--Abolition of the House of Lords and
the Monarchy--Council of State--The Oath Difficulty--The
Engagement--Religious Toleration--Trials of Royalists--Discontent
among the People--The Levellers--Activity of John
Lilburne--Quelling the Mutiny in Whalley's Regiment--Lockyer's
Funeral--Arrest of Lilburne--Spread of the Disaffection to
other Regiments--Suppression of the Insurrection--Cromwell
appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland--Royalist Movement
in Scotland--Charles's Son proclaimed King--The Scottish
Deputation at the Hague--Charles's Court--Assassination of
Dr. Dorislaus--Affairs in Ireland--Cromwell's Campaign--Defeat
and Death of Montrose--Cromwell in Scotland--Battle of
Dunbar--Movements of Charles--His March into England--Battle of
Worcester--Charles Escapes to France--Vigorous Government--Foreign
Difficulties--Navigation Act--War with Holland--Contest between
Parliament and the Army--Expulsion of the Rump--The Little
Parliament--Cromwell made Protector 90

CHAPTER V.

THE COMMONWEALTH (_concluded_).

Naval Victory over the Dutch--Death of Van Tromp--_Quasi_-Royal
State of the Lord-Protector--Disaffection against Cromwell--His
Vigorous Rule--Charles II. offers a Reward for his
Assassination--Rebellions in Scotland--Cromwell's Dealings with the
Portuguese Ambassador--Reform of the Court of Chancery--Commission
for Purgation of the Church--The Reformed Parliament--Exclusion of
the Ultras--Dissolution of Parliament--Danger from Plots--Accident
to the Protector--Death of Cromwell's Mother--Royalist
Outbreaks--Cromwell's Major-Generals--Foreign Policy--War with
Spain--Massacre of the Piedmontese--Capture of Jamaica--The
Jews Appeal for Toleration--Cromwell's Third Parliament--Plots
against his Life--The Petition and Advice--Cromwell refuses the
Royal Title--Blake's Brilliant Victory at Santa Cruz--Death of
Blake--Successes against Spain--Failure of the Reconstructed
Parliament--Punishment of Conspirators--Victory in the
Netherlands--Absolutism of Cromwell--His Anxieties, Illness, and
Death--Proclamation of Richard Cromwell--He calls a Parliament--It
is Dissolved--Reappearance of the Rump--Richard Retires--Royalist
Risings--Quarrels of the Army and the Rump--General Monk--He
Marches upon London--Demands a Free Parliament--Royalist
Reaction--Declaration of Breda--Joyful Reception of Charles 123

CHAPTER VI.

THE PROGRESS OF THE NATION UNDER JAMES I., CHARLES I., AND THE
COMMONWEALTH.

Manufactures and Commerce--Trade under the Stuarts--English
Commerce and Dutch Competition--The East India
Company--Vicissitudes of its Early History--Rival Companies--The
American Colonies and West Indies--Growth of London--National
Revenue--Extravagance of the Stuarts--Invention of the Title
of Baronet--Illegal Monopolies--Cost of Government--Money
and Coinage--Agriculture and Gardening--Dramatists of the
Period--Shakespeare and his Contemporaries--Poets of the
Occult School--Herbert, Herrick, Quarles--A Wealth of
Poetry--Prose-Writers--Bacon's "Novum Organum"--Milton's
Prose Works--Hales, Chillingworth, Jeremy Taylor, Fuller, and
other Theological Writers--Harrington's "Oceana"--Sir Thomas
Browne--Historians and Chroniclers--First Newspapers--Harvey's
Discovery of the Circulation of the Blood--Napier's
Invention of Logarithms--Music--Painting, Engraving, and
Sculpture--Architecture--Manners and Customs--Sports and
Pastimes--Furniture and Domestic Embellishment--Costumes--Arms and
Armour--Condition of the People 165

CHAPTER VII.

CHARLES II.

Character of Charles II.--The King's First Privy Council--The
Convention Parliament--Submission of the Presbyterian
Leaders--The Plight of those who took Part in the late King's
Trial--Complaisance of the Commoners--Charles's Income--The Bill
of Sales--The Ministers Bill--Settlement of the Church--Trial
of the Regicides--Their Execution--Marriage of the Duke of
York--Mutilation of the Remains of Cromwell--The Presbyterians
Duped--The Revenue--Fifth-Monarchy Riot--Settlements of Ireland and
Scotland--Execution of Argyll--Re-establishment of Episcopacy--The
new Parliament violently Royalist--The King's Marriage--His
Brutal Behaviour to the Queen--State of the Court--Trial of Vane
and Lambert--Execution of Vane--Assassination of Regicides--Sale
of Dunkirk--The Uniformity Act--Religious Persecution--Strange
Case of the Marquis of Bristol--Repeal of the Triennial Act--The
Conventicle and Five Mile Acts--War with Holland--Appearance of the
Plague--Gross Licentiousness of the Court--Demoralisation of the
Navy--Monk's Fight with the Dutch--The Great Fire 193

CHAPTER VIII.

REIGN OF CHARLES II. (_continued_).

Demands of Parliament--A Bogus Commission--Crushing the
Covenanters in Scotland--The Dutch in the Thames--Panic in London
and at Court--Humiliation of England--Peace is Signed--Fall of
Clarendon--The Cabal--Sir William Temple at the Hague--The
Triple Alliance--Scandals at Court--Profligacy of the King and
the Duke of Buckingham--Attempt to Deprive the Duke of York of
the Succession--Persecution of Nonconformists--Trial of Penn and
Mead--The Rights of Juries--Secret Treaty with France--Suspicious
Death of Charles's Sister--"Madam Carwell"--Attack on Sir
John Coventry--National Bankruptcy--War with Holland--Battle
of Southwold Bay--Declaration of Indulgence--Fall of the
Cabal--Affairs in Scotland and Ireland--Progress of the Continental
War--Mary Marries William of Orange--Louis Intrigues with the
Opposition--Peace of Nimeguen--The Popish Plot--Impeachment of
Danby--Temple's Scheme of Government--The Exclusion Bill--Murder
of Archbishop Sharp--Bothwell Bridge--Anti-Catholic Fury--Charges
against James--Execution of Lord Stafford 221

CHAPTER IX.

REIGN OF CHARLES II. (_concluded_).

Charles's Embarrassments--Exclusion Intrigues--Parliament
Dissolved--The King again Pensioned by Louis--New Parliament
at Oxford--Violence of the Whigs--Charles Dissolves the
Oxford Parliament--Execution of Archbishop Plunket--Arrest of
Shaftesbury--Dismay of the Gang of Perjurers--Oates turned out of
Whitehall--Shaftesbury's Lists--Visit of William of Orange--James
in Scotland--Defeat of the Cameronians--Cargill's Manifesto--The
Duke of York's Tyranny--Flight of Argyll--The Torture in
Edinburgh--Arrogance of Monmouth--Contest between the Court and the
City--Death of Shaftesbury--Rye House Plot--Suicide of the Earl of
Essex--Trial of Lord William Russell--Extraordinary Declaration
of the University of Oxford--Trial of Algernon Sidney--The
Duke of Monmouth Pardoned--Base Conduct of Monmouth--Trial of
Hampden--Trials in Scotland--Absolutism of Charles--Forfeiture
of Charters by the Corporations--Influence of the Duke of
York--Opposition of Halifax--Sickness and Death of the King 267

CHAPTER X.

REIGN OF JAMES II.

James's Speech to the Council--Rochester supersedes Halifax--Other
Changes in the Ministry--James Collects the Customs without
Parliament--French Pension continued--Scottish Parliament--Oates
and Dangerfield--Meeting of Parliament--It grants Revenue for
Life--Monmouth and Argyll--Argyll's Expedition--His Capture and
Execution--Monmouth's Expedition--He enters Taunton--Failure of
his Hopes--Battle of Sedgemoor--Execution of Monmouth--Cruelties
of Kirke and Jeffreys--The Bloody Assize--The Case of Lady Alice
Lisle--Decline of James's Power--He Breaks the Test Act--Revocation
of the Edict of Nantes--Prorogation of Parliament--Acquittal
of Delamere--Alienation of the Church--Parties at Court--The
Dispensing Power Asserted--Livings granted to Catholics--Court of
High Commission Revived--Army on Hounslow Heath--Trial of "Julian"
Johnson--James's Lawlessness in Scotland and Ireland--Declaration
of Indulgence--The Party of the Prince of Orange and the Princess
Mary--Expulsion of the Fellows of Magdalen College--New Declaration
of Indulgence--Protest of the Seven Bishops--Birth of the Prince of
Wales--Trial and Acquittal of the Bishops--Invitation to William
of Orange--Folly of James--William's Preparations--Blindness of
James, and Treachery of his Ministers--William's Declaration--James
convinced, makes Concessions--William lands at Torbay--His Advance
to Exeter--Churchill's Treason--Flight of the Princess Anne and her
Husband--James sends Commissioners to Treat with William--Flight
of James--Riots in London--Return of James--His Final Flight to
France--The Convention--The Succession Question--Declaration of
Rights--William and Mary joint Sovereigns 289

CHAPTER XI.

PROGRESS OF THE NATION FROM THE CIVIL WAR TO THE GREAT REVOLUTION.

Religion: Nonconformist Sects--Imprisonment of Bunyan--Fox
and the Society of Friends--The Punishment of James
Naylor--Expulsion of Roger Williams--Other Religious
Sects--Literature: Milton--His Works--Cowley--Butler--Dryden--Minor
Poets--Dramatists of the Restoration--Prose Writers: Milton and
Dryden--Hobbes--Clarendon--Baxter--Bunyan--Waiton--Evelyn and
Pepys--Founding of the Royal Society--Physical Science--Discoveries
of Napier, Newton and Flamsteed--Mathematicians and
Chemists--Harvey and Worcester--Painting, Sculpture, and
Engraving--Coinage--Music--Furniture--Costume--Manners and
Customs--State of London--Sports and Amusements--Country
Life--Travelling--The Clergy--Yeomen--Village Sports--Growth
of the Revenue and Commerce--Growing prosperity of the North
of England--The Navigation Act--Norwich and Bristol--Postal
Arrangements--Advantages Derived from the Industries of the
Foreign Refugees--The East India Company--Condition of the People:
Wages--The Poor Law--Efforts of Philanthropists 352

CHAPTER XII.

REIGN OF WILLIAM AND MARY.

Accession of William and Mary--Discontent of the Church and
the Army--William's First Ministry--His Dutch Followers--The
Convention becomes a Parliament--Oath of Allegiance--Settlement
of the Revenue--Suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act--The Mutiny
Bill--Settlement of Religion--The Coronation--Declaration of War
with France--Violence of the Revolution in Scotland--Parties
in the Scottish Parliament--Letter from James--Secession of
Dundee--Edinburgh in Arms--Settlement of the Government--Dundee
in the Highlands--Battle of Killiecrankie--Mackay Concludes the
War--Revolution in Ireland--Panic among the Englishry--Londonderry
and Enniskillen Garrisoned--Negotiations of Tyrconnel--His
Temporary Success--Landing of James--He Enters Dublin--His Journey
into Ulster--The Siege of Londonderry--It is Saved--Legislation
of the Irish Parliament--Arrival of Schomberg--Factiousness of
the English Whigs--State of the English Army in Ireland--Renewed
Violence of the Whigs--The Corporation Act Thrown Out--William
Threatens to Leave England--Dissolution of Parliament--Tory
Reaction--Venality of the New Parliament--Settlement of the
Revenue--Whig Propositions--The Act of Grace--Preparations for
War--A Jacobite Plot--William goes to Ireland--Progress of the
War under Schomberg--Gradual Improvement of his Position and
Ruin of the Jacobite Army--The Battle of the Boyne--Flight
of James--William Enters the Irish Capital--News from
England--Siege of Limerick--Battle of Beachy Head--Landing of
the French in Torbay--Courage of the English People--Settlement
of Scotland--Marlborough's Successes in Ireland--Parliament
Grants Liberal Supplies--Preston's Plot Thwarted--William
Sets Out for Holland--Vigour of Louis--Fall of Mons--Trial of
Jacobite Conspirators--Treason in High Places--Punishment of the
Non-Jurors--The Continental Campaign--Condition of Ireland--Arrival
of St. Ruth--Siege of Athlone--Battle of Aghrim--Second Siege and
Capitulation of Limerick 396

CHAPTER XIII.

REIGN OF WILLIAM AND MARY.

Proceedings in Parliament--Complaints against Admiral
Russell--Treason in the Navy--Legislation against the
Roman Catholics--The East India Company--Treasons
Bill--The Poll Tax--Changes in the Ministry--Marlborough
is deprived of his Offices--His Treachery--The Queen's
Quarrel with the Princess Anne--William goes Abroad--Fall
of Namur--Battle of Steinkirk--Results of the Campaign--The
Massacre of Glencoe--Proposed Invasion of England--James's
Declaration--Russell's Hesitation overcome by the Queen--Battle of
La Hogue--Gallant Conduct of Rooke--Young's Sham Plot--Founding of
Greenwich Hospital--Ill Success of the Fleet--Discontent of the
People--Complaints in the Lords and Commons--The Land Tax--Origin
of the National Debt--Liberty of the Press--The Continental
Campaign--Battle of Landen--Loss of the Smyrna Fleet--Attack
on the Navy--New Legislation--Banking Schemes of Chamberlayne
and Paterson--The Bank of England Established--Ministerial
Changes--Negotiations for Peace--Marlborough's Treason and the
Death of Talmash--Illness and Death of Queen Mary 448

CHAPTER XIV.

Reign of WILLIAM III. (_continued_).

Rising Hopes of the Jacobites--Expulsion of Trevor for
Venality--Examination of the Books of the East India
Company--Impeachment of Leeds--The Glencoe Inquiry--The Darien
Scheme--Marlborough's Reconciliation with William--Campaign of
1695--Surrender of Namur--William's Triumphant Return--General
Election and Victory of the Whigs--New Parliament--Re-establishment
of the Currency--Treasons Bill passed--A Double Jacobite
Plot--Barclay's Preparations--Failure of Berwick's Insurrection
Scheme--William Avoids the Snare--Warnings and Arrests--Sensation
in the House of Commons--Trial and Execution of the
Conspirators--The Association Bill becomes Law--Land Bank
Established--Commercial Crisis--Failure of the Land Bank--The
Bank of England supplies William with Money--Arrest of Sir John
Fenwick--His Confession--William ignores it--Good Temper of the
Commons--They take up Fenwick's Confession--His Silence--A Bill of
Attainder passes both Houses--Execution of Fenwick--Ministerial
Changes--Louis desires Peace--Opposition of the Allies--French
Successes--Terms of Peace--Treaty of Ryswick--Enthusiasm in England
476

CHAPTER XV.

REIGN OF WILLIAM III. (_concluded_).

William Meets his Parliament--Reduction of the Standing
Army--Visit of Peter the Great--Schemes of Louis--The East
India Company--Spanish Partition Scheme--Its Inception and
Progress--Somers's Hesitation--The Treaty is Signed--New
Parliament--Tory Reaction--Dismissal of the Dutch
Guards--William forms an Intention of Quitting England--Attack
on the late Ministry--Jobbery in the Admiralty--Paterson's
Darien Scheme--Douglas's Reasons against It--Enthusiasm
of the Scots--Departure of the First Expedition and
its Miserable Failure--The Untimely End of the Second
Expedition--Second Partition Scheme--Double-dealing of the
French--New Parliament--Attack on Somers--Report on the Irish
Grants--Resumption Bill passed--William's Unpopularity--Death of
the Duke of Gloucester--Conclusion of the New Partition Treaty
and its Results--Charles makes over his Dominions to the French
Candidate--His Death--Disgust of William at Louis's Duplicity--Tory
Temper of the House--The Succession Question--Debates on Foreign
Policy--The Succession Act passed--New Negotiations with
France--Attack on the Whig Ministers--Acknowledgment of the Spanish
King--Impeachment of the Whigs--The Kentish Petition--Its Reception
by the House--The Legion Memorial--Panic in the House--Violent
Struggle between the two Houses--The Impeachments dropped--William
goes Abroad--The Grand Alliance and its Objects--Beginning of the
War--Death of James II.--Louis acknowledges the Pretender--Reaction
in England--New Parliament and Ministry--The King's Speech--British
Patriotism is Roused--Voting of Supplies--The Bills of Attainder
and Abjuration--Illness and Death of William--His Character 502

CHAPTER XVI.

THE REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE.

Accession of the Queen--Meeting of the Houses of
Parliament--Scotland and Ireland--Power of Marlborough--The
Revenue--Tory Colour of the Ministry--The Coronation--Declaration
of War--Marlborough goes to the Seat of War--General Aspect of
Affairs--Marlborough's Difficulties--His Campaign--Operations by
Sea--Meeting of Parliament--Supply--Marlborough's Dukedom--The
Occasional Conformity Bill--Dismissal of Rochester--Opening
of the Campaign of 1703--Fall of Bonn--Failure to take
Antwerp--Savoy and Portugal join the Allies--Visit of the Archduke
Charles to England--The Storm--Jacobite Conspiracy--Ashby
_versus_ White--Queen Anne's Bounty--Marlborough's Great
Plans--The States-General hoodwinked--His March--Dismay of the
French--Junction with Eugene--Advance on the Danube--Assault
of the Schellenberg--The Prince of Baden's Conceit--Approach
of Tallard--The Eve of Blenheim--The Battle--Conclusion of the
Campaign--Marlborough's Diplomacy--Capture of Gibraltar--Battle of
Malaga--Proceedings in Parliament--The Campaign of 1705--Attempt
to recover Gibraltar--Peterborough's Exploits in Spain--Proposal
to Invite the Electress Sophia to England--Consequent
Legislation--Battle of Ramillies--Eugene relieves Turin--Disasters
in Spain--Meeting of the Commissioners for the Union--Condition of
the Treaty--Opposition in Scotland--Riots in Edinburgh--Conduct of
the Opposition--The Measure carried by Bribery--Its Discussion in
the English Parliament--The Royal Assent given 535

CHAPTER XVII.

THE REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE (_continued_).

Negotiations for Peace--The Ministry becomes
Whig--Harley--Marlborough and Charles of Sweden--The Allies in
Spain--Battle of Almanza--The French Triumphant in Spain--Attack
on Toulon--Destruction of Shovel's Fleet--Jacobitism in
Scotland--First Parliament of Great Britain--Abigail
Hill--The Gregg Affair--Retirement of Harley and St. John
from the Ministry--Attempted Invasion of Scotland--Campaign
of 1708--Battle of Oudenarde--Capture of Lille--Leake takes
Sardinia and Minorca--Death of Prince George of Denmark--The
Junto--Terrible Plight of France--Marlborough's Plans for
1709--Louis Negotiates with Holland--Torcy's Terms--Ultimatum
of the Allies--Rejection of the Terms--Patriotism of the French
Nation--Fall of Tournay--Battle of Malplaquet--Meeting of
Parliament--Dr. Sacheverell's Sermons--His Impeachment resolved
upon--Attitude of the Court--The Trial and Sacheverell's
Defence--The Riots--Dispersal of the Rabble--The Sentence--Bias
of the Queen--The Tories in Power--Renewed Overtures for
Peace--Their Failure--The Campaigns in the Netherlands and in
Spain--Brihuega and its Consequence--Marlborough's Reign at an
End--Unpopularity of Marlborough--Dismissal of the Duchess--Triumph
of the Tories--Guiscard's Attack on Harley--Popularity of
Harley--Marlborough's Last Campaign--Failure of the Attack on
Quebec--The Ministry determine to make Peace--Overtures to
the Pretender--He refuses to Change his Religion--Gualtier's
Mission to Versailles--Indignation of the Dutch--The Basis of
Negotiations--Signing of the Preliminaries--Excitement Abroad
and at Home--Prorogation of Parliament--Strengthening of the
Ministry--Debates in the two Houses--The Whigs adopt the Occasional
Conformity Bill--Creation of Peers--Dismissal of Marlborough from
his Employments--Walpole expelled the House 574

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Christ Church, Oxford, from St. Aldate's (looking West) 1

The Clock Tower, Dublin Castle 5

Charles demanding the Surrender of the Five Members 9

Lord Falkland 13

St. Mary's Church, Nottingham 17

Hampden mortally Wounded at Chalgrove 21

Archbishop Laud's Library, East Quadrangle, John's College, Oxford 25

Prince Rupert 28

Siege-piece of Charles I.--Newark (Half-crown) 29

Siege-piece of Charles I.--Pontefract (Shilling) 29

Siege-piece of Charles I.--Beeston (Two Shillings) 29

Siege-piece of Charles I.--Colchester (Ten Shillings, Gold) 29

St. Margaret's, Westminster 33

Interview between Charles and the Earl of Denbigh 36

Roundhead Soldiers 37

Charles at the Battle of Naseby 41

Cavalier Soldiers 45

Raglan Castle 49

Flight of Charles from Oxford 53

Queen Henrietta's Drawing-room and Bedroom, Merton College, Oxford 57

Lord Fairfax 61

Cornet Joyce's Interview with Charles 64

Fairfax House, Putney 65

Lord Clarendon 69

Carisbrooke Castle, Isle of Wight 73

Rising of the London Apprentices on behalf of Charles 76

Execution of Sir Charles Lucas and Sir George Lisle 77

Arrival of Charles under Guard at Hurst Castle 81

Trial of Charles 85

Charles's Farewell Interview with the Duke of Gloucester
and the Princess Elizabeth 89

Oliver Cromwell 93

Assassination of Dr. Dorislaus 97

Great Seal of the Commonwealth 101

Dunbar 105

Cromwell on his way to London after the Battle of Worcester 108

Henry Ireton 109

Royal Museum and Picture Gallery, The Hague 113

Cromwell addressing the Long Parliament for the Last Time 117

Token of the Commonwealth (Copper) 121

Broad of the Commonwealth (Gold) 121

Crown of the Commonwealth (Silver) 121

The Great Hall, Hampton Court Palace 125

John Milton 129

The Royalist Plotters at Salisbury insulting the Sheriff 132

The Painted Chamber, Westminster 133

Admiral Blake 137

Cromwell refusing the Crown 141

Arrest of Conspirators at the "Mermaid" 145

John Thurloe 149

The Manor House, Wimbledon (1660) 153

Richard Cromwell 156

Reception of Monk in the City of London 157

Interior of the Painted Chamber, Westminster (looking East) 161

Landing of Charles II. at Dover 164

Cecil, Second Lord Baltimore 169

Cheapside and the Cross in 1660 172

The "Globe" Theatre, Southwark (with the "Rose"
Theatre in the Distance), in 1613 173

Hawthornden in 1773 177

Scene at the Funeral of Chillingworth 181

William Harvey 184

Reduced Facsimile of Front Page of No. 26 of "A Perfect Diurnall" 185

Shopkeeper and Apprentice in the Time of Charles I. 189

Great Seal of Charles II. 193

Charles II. 197

Arrest of Argyll 200

Shilling of Charles II. 205

Halfpenny (with Figure of Britannia) of Charles II. 205

Crown of Charles II. 205

Five-Guinea Piece of Charles II. 205

Sir Harry Vane taking Leave of his Wife and Friends 209

The Great Plague: Scene in the Streets of London 213

Thumbscrew 214

The Great Plague: The Maniac pronouncing the Doom of London 217

Pie Corner, Smithfield, where the Great Fire reached its Limits 220

George Monk, Duke of Albemarle 221

Tilbury Fort 225

Samuel Pepys 229

The Assault on Sir John Coventry 232

Anthony Ashley Cooper, First Earl of Shaftesbury 237

View in the Hague: The Gevangenpoort in which Cornelius
and John De Witt were imprisoned (1672) 241

Sir William Temple 245

Titus Oates before the Privy Council 249

Thomas Osborne, first Duke of Leeds 253

Hôtel de Ville, Paris, in the Eighteenth Century 257

Assassination of Archbishop Sharp 260

The Duke of Monmouth 265

Arrival of Charles at Oxford 268

Escape of Argyll 273

The Rye House 277

Trial of Lord William Russell 281

The Bass Rock 284

Great Seal of James II. 289

James II. 293

The Last Sleep of Argyll 297

The Cross, Bridgewater, where Monmouth was proclaimed King 300

Monmouth's Interview with the King 304

Judge Jeffreys 309

Fourpenny Piece of James II. 311

Five-Guinea Piece of James II. 311

Windsor Castle, from the Brocas 313

Parliament Hall, Edinburgh 317

John Dryden 321

James doing Homage to the Papal Nuncio 324

The Seven Bishops entering the Tower 329

View in the Hague: The Hall of the Knights in the Binnenhof 333

William of Orange embarking to join the "Brill" 337

William of Orange entering Exeter 341

James hearing of the Landing of William of Orange 345

Roger Williams leaving his Home in Massachusetts 353

Milton dictating "Paradise Lost" to his Daughters 357

Samuel Butler 361

John Bunyan 364

Gresham College, where the Royal Society was first Housed 365

Sir Isaac Newton 369

Evelyn "Discovering" Grinling Gibbons 372

Costumes of the Time of Charles II. 377

Chelsea Hospital 380

May-Day Revels in the Time of Charles II. 384

Ships of the Time of Charles II. 385

The Old East India House in 1630 389

Great Seal of William and Mary 396

Kensington Palace 397

William III. 400

Mary II. 401

Covenanters evicting an Episcopalian Clergyman 405

Battle of Killiecrankie: The Last Charge of Dundee 409

The _Mountjoy_ and _Phœnix_ breaking the Boom at Londonderry 416

Landing of Marshal Schomberg at Carrickfergus 417

Five-Guinea Piece of William and Mary 420

Crown of William and Mary 420

Fourpenny Piece of William and Mary 420

Halfpenny of William and Mary 420

Henry VII.'s Chapel, Westminster Abbey 424

William Penn 425

James entering Dublin after the Battle of the Boyne 429

The French retreating from Torbay 433

Edinburgh Castle in 1725 436

The Duke of Marlborough 441

The Assault of Athlone 444

Scene at the Removal of the Irish Soldiers from Limerick 445

George Saville, Marquis of Halifax 449

Lady Marlborough and the Princess Anne at the Queen's Drawing-Room 453

Glencoe: Scene of the Massacre 457

Greenwich Hospital 464

Burning of Blount's Pamphlet by the Common Hangman 465

Louis XIV. 469

Costumes of the Time of William and Mary 473

William Paterson 477

Five-Guinea Piece of William 480

Half-Crown of William 480

Surrender of Boufflers 481

Conspirators landing at Romney Marsh 485

Bishop Burnet 489

Old Mercers' Hall, where the Bank of England was first Established 492

Lady Fenwick interceding for her Husband 493

Lord Somers 497

William's triumphant Procession to Whitehall 500

View in the Hague: Old Gate in the Binnenhof, with the
Arms of the County of Holland 505

Charles Montague, Earl of Halifax 509

Scene at the Departure from Leith of the Darien Expedition 513

The Royal Palace of Whitehall, from the Thames, in the beginning
of the 17th Century 520

Captain Kidd before the Bar of the House of Commons 525

The Pretender proclaimed King of England by Order of
Louis XIV. 529

View in the Hague: Chamber of the States-General in the Binnenhof 533

Bishop Burnet announcing her Accession to Anne 537

Lord Godolphin 541

View in Lisbon: The Práça de Dom Pedro 545

The King of Spain at Windsor: His Gallantry to the
Duchess of Marlborough 549

Prince Eugene of Savoy 553

The Battle of Blenheim 557

Queen Anne 561

Great Seal of Queen Anne 568

The People of Edinburgh Escorting the Duke of Hamilton
to Holyrood Palace 569

Costumes of the Reign of Queen Anne 572

Wreck of Sir Cloudesley Shovel's Fleet 577

Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough 581

London Coffee House in the Reign of Queen Anne 585

Five-Guinea Piece of Queen Anne 588

Farthing of Queen Anne 588

Two-Guinea Piece of Queen Anne 588

Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford 589

Drinking to the Health of Dr. Sacheverell 592

Making Friends with Mrs. Masham 593

The Duke of Marlborough's Interview with Queen Anne 597

The Fracas in the Privy Council 601

Marlborough House in the Time of Queen Anne 604

Henry St. John (afterwards Viscount Bolingbroke) 605

LIST OF PLATES

CHARLES I. ON HIS WAY TO EXECUTION, 1649.
(_By Ernest Crofts, R.A._) _Frontispiece_

MAP OF ENGLAND DURING THE CIVIL WAR, 1642-1649. _To face p._ 50

THE CHILDREN OF CHARLES I. (_By Miss Margaret I. Dicksee_) " 71

DEATH OF THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH, CARISBROOKE CASTLE,
SEPT. 8TH, 1650. (_By C. W. Cope, R.A._) " 102

CROMWELL REFUSING THE CROWN. (_By J. Schex_) " 145

RESCUED FROM THE PLAGUE, LONDON, 1665.
(_By F. W. W. Topham, R.I._) " 209

CHARLES II. AND NELL GWYNN. (_By E. M. Ward, R.A._) " 210

THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON, 1666.
(_By Stanhope A. Forbes, A.R.A._) " 225

THE DISGRACE OF LORD CLARENDON AFTER HIS LAST INTERVIEW
WITH THE KING IN WHITEHALL PALACE, 1667.
(_By E. M. Ward, R.A._) " 233

THE ANTE-CHAMBER OF WHITEHALL DURING THE LAST MOMENTS OF
CHARLES II., 1685. (_By E. M. Ward, R.A._) " 289

"AFTER SEDGEMOOR." (_By W. Rainey, R.I._) " 302

COVENANTERS PREACHING. (_By Sir George Harvey, R.S.A._) " 402

WILLIAM III. AT THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE. (_By Jan Wyck_) " 430

A LOST CAUSE: FLIGHT OF JAMES II. AFTER THE BATTLE OF THE
BOYNE, 1690. (_By Andrew C. Gow, R.A._) " 433

THE FOUNDING OF THE BANK OF ENGLAND, 1694.
(_By George Harcourt_) " 471

PETER THE GREAT AT DEPTFORD DOCKYARD.
(_By Daniel Maclise, R.A._) " 503

H.R.H. PRINCESS ANNE OF DENMARK, AFTERWARDS QUEEN OF ENGLAND.
(_By W. Wissing and J. Vandervaart_) " 545

[Illustration: _By permission of Messrs. S. Hildesheimer & Co., Ld._

CHARLES I. ON HIS WAY TO EXECUTION, 1649.

FROM THE PICTURE BY ERNEST CROFTS, R.A.]

[Illustration: CHRIST CHURCH, OXFORD, FROM ST. ALDATE'S (LOOKING WEST.)]

CASSELL'S

ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

CHAPTER I.

THE GREAT REBELLION.

The causes which drove the Irish to rebellion were for the most part
of long standing. Their religion had been ruthlessly persecuted; their
property had been confiscated by whole provinces at a time; their
ancient chiefs had been driven from their lands, and many of them
exterminated. Elizabeth, James, and Charles, had proffered them new
titles on condition of making large sacrifices, but had never kept
their word, and at this moment, the graces promised by Charles to
tolerate their religion and confirm the titles of their estates, were
unfulfilled. The example of the Scots had aroused them to the hope of
achieving a like triumph. Their great enemy the Earl of Strafford had
fallen, but, on the other hand, they were menaced by Parliament with
a still more fierce persecution, and even an avowed extermination of
their religion. They believed that the Scottish Presbyterians would
join with avidity in the attempt to subdue them, and come in for a
share of the plunder of their estates; and they now seized on the idea
of rising and reclaiming their ancient power and property. True, they
were not one united people like the Scots: there were the ancient
Irish, and the Anglo-Irish of the pale, that is, English settled in
Ireland holding the estates of the expelled native chiefs, but keeping
themselves aloof from the Irish. Yet many of the pale were Catholics,
and the Catholic religion was the unanimous object of attachment on
the part of the natives. The Parliament and the Scottish settlers
in the north were banded against this religion, and this produced a
counter-bond between the Catholic natives and the Catholics of the
pale. From the British Parliament neither of these parties had anything
to hope for on the score of religion; but the king was in need of aid
against this Parliament, and it occurred to them that they might make
common cause with him.

Roger Moore, a gentleman of Kildare, entered into this scheme with
all the impetuosity of his nation. He saw the lands of his ancestors
for the most part in the hands of English and Scottish settlers,
and he made a pilgrimage into almost every quarter of Ireland to
incite his countrymen to grasp this opportunity, when the king and
Parliament of England were engrossed by their disputes, to recover
their rights. Everywhere he was listened to with enthusiasm, and the
natives held themselves ready to rise, and take a terrible vengeance
on the usurpers of their lands at the first signal. The great chiefs
of Ulster, Cornelius Maguire, Baron of Enniskillen, and Sir Phelim
O'Neil, who had become the chieftain of the sept of Tyrone after the
death of the son of the late persecuted Tyrone, fell into his views
with all their followers. The Catholic members of the pale were more
disposed to negotiate with Charles than to rush into insurrection
against his authority. They knew that it was greatly to his interest
at this moment to conciliate his Irish subjects, and they despatched
to him a deputation previous to his journey to Scotland, demanding
the ratification of those graces for which he had received the
purchase money thirteen years before, and offering in return their
warmest support to his authority in Ireland. Charles received them
very graciously, promised them the full satisfaction of all their
demands, and by Lord Gormanstown, who headed the deputation, and on
whom he lavished the most marked attentions, he sent word to the Earls
of Ormond and Antrim to secure in his interest the eight thousand
troops which had been raised by Strafford, to keep them in efficient
discipline, to augment rather than decrease their number, and to
surprise the castle of Dublin, where they would find twelve thousand
stand of arms.

But the English Parliament were by no means unaware of the danger from
the army in Ireland, which consisted almost entirely of Catholics.
They insisted on its being disbanded, as promised by the king on the
Scottish pacification. He was not able to prevent this, and signed the
order; but at the same time sent secret instructions by Gormanstown to
Ormond and Antrim, to frustrate this by enlisting the whole body as
volunteers to serve the King of Spain in Flanders.

At this juncture Sir William Parsons and Sir John Borlase were at the
head of the English Government in Ireland; they were in the interest
of the Parliament, and were detested by almost all classes of Irish.
Sir John Clotworthy, in the House of Commons, had openly declared that
"the conversion of the Papists in Ireland was only to be effected by
the Bible in one hand, and the sword in the other." Pym was reported
to have said that they would not leave a priest in Ireland; and at a
public entertainment Parsons had echoed those sentiments by declaring
that "in a twelvemonth not a Catholic would be left in that country."
The Irish were, therefore, delighted with their success with the king,
and Gormanstown and his associates hastened home again, with two Bills
signed by the king, granting the possession of lands which had been
held sixty years, and setting aside all the sequestrations made by
Strafford. But Parsons and Borlase, aware that the passing of these
Bills would attach Ireland to the interests of the king, defeated the
object by proroguing Parliament a few days before the arrival of the
deputies.

It was now resolved by Ormond and Antrim to defer any movement till
the reassembling of the Irish Parliament in November, when they could
at the same moment secure Dublin castle and the persons of Parsons
and Borlase, and issue in the name of the two Houses his Majesty's
concession to the people of Ireland. But the native Irish, stimulated
by the addresses of Moore, could not wait so long. They determined to
rise, without waiting for the combined force, on the 23rd of October.
Two hundred and twenty men were to surprise the castle, but at the time
appointed only eighty appeared. They concluded to wait till the next
day for the arrival of the rest, but that night one Hugh M'Mahon, in a
drunken fit, betrayed the secret to Owen O'Connelly, a servant of Sir
John Clotworthy, and a Protestant. He instantly carried the news to Sir
William Parsons; the city gates were closed, and a quick search was
made for the conspirators. All but M'Mahon and Lord Maguire escaped,
but the castle was saved.

Ignorant of the failure of the plot, the people of Ulster rose on the
appointed day. Charlemont and Dungannon were surprised by Sir Phelim
O'Neil, Mountjoy by O'Quin, Tanderagee by O'Hanlan, and Newry by
Macginnis. In little more than a week all the open country in Tyrone,
Monaghan, Longford, Leitrim, Fermanagh, Cavan, Donegal, Derry, and
part of Down, were in their hands. The other colonies in which there
were English or Scottish plantations followed their example, and the
greater part of Ireland was in a dreadful state of anarchy and terror.
The Protestant people on the plantations fell beneath the butchering
revenge of the insurgents, or fled wildly into the fortified towns.
The horrors of the Irish massacre of 1641 have assumed a fearful place
in history; the cruelties, expulsions, and oppressions of long years
were repaid by the most infuriated cruelty. Men, women, and children,
fell indiscriminately in the onslaught, and they who escaped, says
Clarendon, "were robbed of all they had, to their very shirts, and so
turned naked to endure the sharpness of the season, and by that means,
and for want of relief, many thousands of them perished by hunger and
cold."

Great care has been taken by Catholic writers to contradict these
accounts, and to represent the atrocities committed as of no
extraordinary extent. They remind us that no accounts of these
barbarous slaughters were transmitted in the reports to the English
Parliament, which would have been only too glad to spread, and even
exaggerate bloody deeds of the Catholics. They reduce the number of
people slain during the whole insurrection to about ten thousand,
instead of the grossly exaggerated statements of Milton in his
"Iconoclastes," that there were one hundred and fifty-four thousand
in Ulster alone, or of Sir John Temple, that three hundred thousand
were slain or expelled altogether. But nothing less than a most
frightful massacre could have left the awful impression which still
lives in tradition, and the calculations of moderate historians do not
make the number massacred less than from fifteen thousand to twenty
thousand. The Earl of Castlehaven, a Catholic, says that all the water
in the sea could not wash from the Irish the taint of that rebellion.
Whilst remembering the vengeance, however, we must never forget the
long and maddening incentives to it. Much blame was attached to the
Deputy-Governors, Borlase and Parsons, who, shut up in security in
Dublin, took no measures for suppressing the insurgents. They were
charged with purposely allowing the rebellion to spread, in order that
there might be more confiscations, in which they would find their own
benefit; but it must not be forgotten that they had few soldiers on
whom they could rely, for these were nearly all Catholics; nor did
the insurgents escape without severe chastisement in many places, for
wherever there was a trusty garrison, the soldiers easily repelled the
disorderly mob of plunderers; and Sir Phelim O'Neil suffered during the
month of November severe losses.

Before Charles reached England, O'Connelly, the discoverer of the plot,
arrived in London, with letters from the lords justices, and was called
before the House of Lords to relate all that he knew. They immediately
invited the House of Commons to a conference on the state of Ireland,
and on the better providing for the security of England. They presented
O'Connelly with five hundred pounds in money, and settled on him an
annuity of two hundred pounds a year. It was resolved to look well
after the Catholics in England, and to put the ports into a state of
defence. The Commons voted that two hundred thousand pounds should be
set apart for the requirements of Ireland; that six thousand foot and
two thousand horse should be raised for service there; and that the
fleet should carefully guard its coast. The Earl of Leicester, the
Lord-Lieutenant, was desired to furnish a list of the most suitable
officers for the service, and arms and ammunition were prepared in
haste, to be despatched to Dublin. A pardon was offered to all rebels
who laid down their arms by a certain day, at the same time that a
reward was set on the heads of the leaders. But the Commons did not
stop there; they passed a resolution never to tolerate the Catholic
worship either in Ireland or in any part of his Majesty's dominions.
Commissioners were appointed to disarm the recusants in every part
of the kingdom; pursuivants were sent out in every direction to seize
priests and Jesuits; orders were given for the trial of all such
persons; and the king was advised not to pardon or reprieve them. The
queen's chapel was closed, her priests were dismissed, her confessor
was sent to the Tower, and no less than seventy Catholic lords and
gentlemen were denounced by the Commons to the Lords, as persons who
ought to be secured to prevent them from doing injury to the State.

Such was the condition of things when Charles arrived in London. He
was well received by the Lord Mayor and aldermen of the city, and in
return gave them an entertainment at Hampton Court; but he was greatly
chagrined at the proceedings of the Commons, telling them that they
were converting the war in Ireland, which was a civil war, into a
war of religion. He took umbrage also at Parliament sitting with a
guard round their House. The Earl of Essex, on the king's arrival,
surrendered his command of the forces south of the Trent to the king,
and announced to the Lords that having resigned his commission, he
could no longer furnish the guard. A message was sent from the Houses,
requesting the king to restore them the guard, but he refused, saying
he saw no occasion for it; but the Commons let him know that many
dangerous persons, Irish and others, were lurking about, and that the
"Incident" in Scotland, and the late attempt to surprise the castle in
Dublin, warned them of their danger; and that not only must they have a
guard, but they must nominate the commander of it themselves.

Whilst Charles was pondering on the answer which he should return to
this unwelcome message, Sir Ralph Hopton appeared at Hampton Court
with another address from the Commons yet more ominous. This bore the
alarming title of a "Remonstrance on the state of the kingdom." It had
been drawn up and passed by the Commons before the king came back from
Scotland, that is, on the 22nd of November; and it was resolved to
present it to him on his return. It was the act of the Commons alone,
and had not been carried even there without a violent debate, which
lasted till two o'clock in the morning, the House having sat that day
eighteen hours. The heat to which the proposal gave rise was such, that
Sir Philip Warwick says, "We had sheathed our swords in each others'
bowels, had not the sagacity and calmness of Mr. Hampden, by a soft
speech, prevented it." Cromwell is reported by Clarendon to have said
to Lord Falkland as they came out, that had it not been carried, he
would have sold all and gone to America. "So near," adds the Royalist
historian, "was the poor kingdom at that time to its deliverance."

And yet this famous Remonstrance was only carried by a majority of
nine, according to Clarendon; according to others, by eleven. It was,
as Clarendon describes it, "a very bitter representation of all the
illegal things that had been done from the first hour of the king's
coming to the crown, to that minute." It consisted of two hundred
and six clauses, and dealt among other matters with the war against
the French Protestants; the innovations in the Church; the illegal
imposition of ship-money; forced loans; the cruelties of the Star
Chamber and High Commission; the forcing of episcopacy on Scotland;
the forcing of it on the Irish by Strafford, and all the other illegal
proceedings there; the opposition of the king and his ministers to
necessary reforms; and the plotting of the queen with the Papists at
home and abroad. It went on to remind the king of what they had done
in pulling down his evil counsellors, and informed him that other good
things were in preparation.

[Illustration: THE CLOCK TOWER, DUBLIN CASTLE.]

The king the next day delivered his answer in the House of Lords,
protesting, as usual, his good intentions, telling the Commons, before
he removed evil counsellors, they must point out who they were and
bring real facts against them; at the same time he significantly
reminded them that he had left Scotland in perfect amity with him, so
that they might infer that they were not to look for support against
him there, and calling on them to stir themselves in aiding him to
put down the rebellion in Ireland. Matters continued getting worse
every day between the king and Parliament. From the 8th to the 20th of
December there was a sullen humour between them. So far from granting
the Parliament the usual guard, Charles had posted a guard of his own
near the Commons. They summoned the commander of the guard before them,
pronounced its being placed there a breach of their privileges, and
demanded that it should be removed. On the 14th of December Charles
objected to their ordering the impressment of soldiers from Ireland,
that being his prerogative, but that he would permit it for the time
on the understanding that his right was not thereby affected. The
next day the Commons passed an order for the printing and publishing
of their Remonstrance, which measure they had failed to carry at the
same time as the Remonstrance itself. This had a great effect with
the public, and the king, in a restless, angry humour, prevailing in
nothing against the House, sought to strengthen himself by getting
into the Tower a lieutenant of his own party. But in this movement he
was equally injudicious and equally unfortunate. Charles dismissed Sir
William Balfour, who had honestly resisted his warrant and refused
a bribe of Strafford to permit his escape; but to have deprived the
Commons of any plea for interfering in what was unquestionably his
own prerogative, he should have replaced him by a man of character.
Instead of that, he gave the post to Colonel Lunsford, a man of
desperate fortunes and the most unprincipled reputation; outlawed for
his violent attacks on different individuals, and known to be capable
of executing the most lawless designs. The City immediately petitioned
the Commons against the Tower being in the hands of such a man; the
Commons called for a conference with the Lords on the subject, but the
Lords refused to meddle in what so clearly was the royal prerogative.
The Commons then called on them to enter the protest they had made
on their books; but the Lords took time to consider it. On Thursday,
December 23rd, a petition was addressed to the Commons, purporting
to be from the apprentices of London, against Papists and prelates,
who, they contended, caused the destruction of trade by their plots,
and the fears which thence unsettled men of capital; whereby they,
the apprentices, "were nipped in the bud," on entering the world.
The Corporation waited on his Majesty on Sunday, the 26th, to assure
him that the apprentices were contemplating a rising, and meant to
carry the Tower by storm, unless Lunsford were removed; and that the
merchants had already taken away their bullion from the Mint for fear
of him, and the owners of ships coming in with new would not carry it
there. That evening Charles took the keys from his new lieutenant, and
appointed Sir John Byron in his place.

And now, notwithstanding their reluctance, the Lords were compelled to
entertain this question, for they found Lord Newport, the Constable of
the Tower, also brought into controversy by the king. It appeared that
during Charles's absence in Scotland, at a meeting of a number of the
peers and members of the Commons at Kensington, regarding some rumour
of plots against Parliament, Lord Newport was reported to have said,
"Never mind, we have his wife and children." Newport stated in the
House that he had waited on the queen at the time, and assured her that
no such words had been spoken; yet on Friday last the king had reminded
him of it, and intimated his belief of it. It was now the turn of the
Lords to call for a conference with the Commons. This was granted
on Monday, and whilst it was sitting, the House of Parliament was
surrounded by tumultuous mobs, crying, "Beware of plots! No bishops! no
bishops!"

Poor Williams, made Archbishop of York on the 4th of this month, was
surrounded by this mob and much frightened; but he got away unhurt,
any further than in his feelings, from the execrations heaped on the
bishops. One David Hide, however, a ruffian officer, who had been
in the army in the north, and was now appointed to the service in
Ireland, drew his sword, and swore that "he would cut the throats
of those _roundheaded_ dogs that bawled against bishops," and by
that expression, says Clarendon, gave the first utterance to the
name "roundheads," which was at once universally applied to the
Parliamentary party; the term "cavaliers" soon being introduced to
designate the Royalists. The same day Lunsford had the insolence to
go through Westminster Hall with thirty or forty of his partisans at
his back. The mob fell on them, and they drew their swords and cut
right and left among the crowd. Presently there came pouring down to
Westminster hundreds of fresh apprentices, with swords, cudgels, and
other weapons, crying, "Slash us now! Slash us now!" And this was
renewed by thousands the next day, December 28th, with the same "Slash
us now, whilst we wait on the honourable House to request an answer to
our petition." Some of the youths were shut into the abbey and brought
before Williams, whilst those without cried that if they were not
released, they would break in and pull down the organs. This, however,
they were prevented from doing, by numbers of the bishop's men coming
out on the abbey leads, and flinging down stones upon them, by which
many were injured; and Sir Richard Wiseman, who happened to be passing,
was so much hurt that he died of his injuries.

Williams, the archbishop, was so incensed at the cry against the
bishops, that he forgot his usual cunning, and got eleven other bishops
to join him in an address to the king, declaring that the bishops
could not get to their places for the riotous crowds, and from fear
of their lives from them; and therefore, as bishops had at all times
formed part and parcel of the Upper House, that House, so long as
they were detained from it, was no longer a competent House, and that
all its acts, of whatever kind, would be utterly invalid. This was
supposed to be a manœuvre of the king's to get rid of the authority
of Parliament for the present, and thus of his unfortunate surrender
of the powers of adjournment; but the Lords, taking no notice of the
protest of the bishops, desired a conference with the Commons, and then
denounced the protest of the bishops as subversive of the fundamental
rights of Parliament. The Commons, on their part, instead of contenting
themselves with passing a resolution condemnatory of the folly of the
bishops, at once declared them guilty of high treason, and called on
the Lords to apprehend them, which was at once done, and ten of the
bishops were committed to the Tower, and two, on account of their age,
to the custody of the Usher of the Black Rod.

On the last day of this eventful year, Denzil Holles waited on his
Majesty, by order of the Commons, to represent to him, that whilst his
faithful Parliament was ready to shed the last drop of its blood in
defence of his Majesty, it was itself daily exposed to the danger of
plots and ruffians who had dared to shed the blood of the people coming
to petition at the very doors of the House. They demanded, therefore, a
guard. Charles had taken care to surround his own palace day and night
since the commotions. Such a guard was reluctantly granted three days
after.

But if 1641 had been an astonishing year, 1642 was destined to cast
even it into the shade, and its very opening was with nothing short
of the first trumpet note of civil war. On the 3rd of January Charles
sent his answer to the Commons respecting the guard, acceding to the
request, but immediately followed it up by a demand that electrified
the Houses, and was soon to electrify the nation. Whilst the Commons
were debating on the royal message, the king's new Attorney-General,
Herbert, appeared at the bar of the House of Lords, and presented
articles of high treason against six leading Members of Parliament,
one peer and five commoners. These members were, Lord Kimbolton in the
Peers, and Holles, Hazelrig, Pym, Hampden, and Strode, in the Commons.
There were seven articles exhibited against them of high treason and
other misdemeanour. These were stated in the following words:--"1st.
That they have traitorously endeavoured to subvert the fundamental laws
and government of the kingdom of England, to deprive the king of his
royal power, and to place in subjects an arbitrary and tyrannical power
over the lives, liberties, and estates of his Majesty's liege people.
2nd. That they have traitorously endeavoured, by many foul aspersions
upon his Majesty and his Government, to alienate the affections of his
people, and to make his Majesty odious unto them. 3rd. That they have
endeavoured to draw his Majesty's late army to disobedience to his
Majesty's commands, and to side with them in their traitorous designs.
4th. That they have traitorously invited and encouraged a foreign
power to invade his Majesty's kingdom of England. 5th. That they have
traitorously endeavoured to subvert the rights and the very being of
Parliaments. 6th. That for the completing of their traitorous designs,
they have endeavoured, so far as in them lay, by force and terror, to
compel the Parliament to join with them in their traitorous designs,
and to that end have actually raised and countenanced tumults against
the king and Parliament. 7th. And that they have traitorously conspired
to levy, and actually have levied war against the king."

"The House of Peers," says Clarendon, "was somewhat startled by this
alarm, but took time to consider it till the next day, that they might
see how their masters, the Commons, would behave themselves." Lord
Kimbolton declared his readiness to meet the charge: the Lords sent a
message upon the matter to the Commons; and at the same time came the
news that officers of the Crown were sealing up the doors, trunks, and
papers of Pym, Hampden and the other impeached members. The House
immediately ordered the seals put upon the doors and papers of their
Members to be broken, and they who had presumed to do such an act to
be seized and brought before them. At this moment the serjeant-at-arms
arrived at the door of the House; they ordered him to be admitted,
but without his mace, and having heard his demand for the delivery
of the five Members, they bade him withdraw, and sent Lord Falkland
and three other Members to inform the king that they held the Members
ready to answer any legal charge against them. But the next day the
Commons were informed by Captain Languish, that the king, at the head
of his gentlemen pensioners, and followed by some hundreds of courtiers
and officers, armed with swords and pistols, was advancing towards
the House. The House was well supplied with halberds, which they had
previously ordered into it when the king withdrew their guard; but they
saw the advantage of preventing an armed collision, and ordered the
accused Members to withdraw.

Charles entered the House, his attendants remaining at Westminster
Hall, and at the door of the Commons. As he advanced towards the
Speaker's chair, he glanced towards the place where Pym usually sat,
and then approaching the chair, said, "By your leave, Mr. Speaker, I
must borrow your chair a little." The House, at his entrance, arose and
stood uncovered; Lenthall, the Speaker, dropped upon his knees, and
Charles, much excited, said, "Gentlemen, I am sorry for this occasion
of coming unto you. Yesterday I sent a serjeant-at-arms to apprehend
some that at my command were accused of high treason, wherewith I did
expect obedience, and not a message; and I must declare unto you here,
that albeit no king that ever was in England shall be more careful of
your privileges, to maintain them to the utmost of his power, than I
shall be; yet you must know that in cases of treason no person hath
a privilege, and therefore I am come to know if any of those persons
that I have accused, for no slight crime, but for treason, are here.
I cannot expect that this House can be in the right way that I do
heartily wish it, therefore I am come to tell you that I must have
them, wheresoever I find them." He looked earnestly round the House,
but seeing none of them, demanded of the Speaker where they were.
Lenthall, still on his knees, declared that he had neither eyes to see,
nor tongue to speak, but as the House directed. "Well," said the king,
"since I see all the birds are flown, I do expect that as soon as they
return hither, you do send them to me." And with mingled assurances
that he meant no force, yet not without a threat, he withdrew. As he
walked out, there were raised loud cries of "Privilege! Privilege!" and
the House instantly adjourned.

The Commons, to testify that they no longer felt themselves safe in
their own House, betook themselves to the City where, establishing a
permanent committee to sit at the Grocers' Hall, they adjourned till
the 11th of January. The next day Charles, taking his usual attendants,
went into the City, and at Guildhall demanded of the Lord Mayor and
aldermen that they should hunt out and deliver to him the accused
Members who had taken refuge amongst them. His demand was coldly
received, and after dining with one of the sheriffs he returned. His
passage through the city was attended by continued cries of "Privilege!
Privilege of Parliament!" And one Henry Walker, an ironmonger and
political pamphleteer, threw into his Majesty's carriage a paper
bearing the words, "To your tents, O Israel!" Scarcely had Charles
reached Whitehall, when a deputation from the Corporation waited on
him, complaining of the Tower being put into unsafe hands, of the
fortifying of Whitehall, the wounding of citizens on their way to
petition Parliament, of the dangerous example of the king entering the
House of Commons attended by armed men, and praying him to cease from
the prosecution of the five Members of Parliament, and to remove from
Whitehall and the Tower all suspicious personages.

As Charles still persisted by proclamation in endeavouring to get
possession of the five Members, and as a hundred stand of arms, with
gunpowder and shot, had been removed from the Tower to Whitehall, a
thousand marines and boatmen signed a memorial to the committee of the
Commons sitting at Guildhall, offering to guard them on the appointed
day to their House in Westminster. The committee accepted the offer,
which was immediately followed by one from the apprentices. Seeing that
the City, the seamen, and everybody were of one mind in condemning his
violent invasion of the national sanctuary of the House of Commons,
Charles on the 10th of January, the day previous to the meeting again
of Parliament, quietly withdrew with his family to Hampton Court,
and the next day removed thence to Windsor. Little did he imagine,
deplorable as was his retreat, that he would never enter his capital
again till he came as a prisoner in the hands of this insulted
Parliament. Yet his feelings at this moment must have been melancholy
in the extreme. "In this sad condition," says Clarendon, "was the king
at Windsor; fallen in ten days from a height and greatness that his
enemies feared, to a lowness, that his own servants durst hardly avow
the waiting on him."

Charles had now decided on war. But money was necessary, and to obtain
it he determined to send the queen abroad. A pretext was easily found.
The Princess Mary, who had been some time betrothed to the Prince of
Orange, though she was yet a mere child, only about ten years of age,
was to be delivered to the Dutch Court, and nothing was more natural
than that her mother should accompany her. Even the stern reformers,
who had forbidden her twice before leaving the kingdom, could find no
excuse for forbidding this maternal office. On the 9th of February
Charles and the Court returned from Windsor to Hampton Court, and the
next day the royal party set out for Dover, where, on the 23rd, the
queen and her daughter embarked for Holland. The Prince of Orange
received her majesty with all kindness, which he indeed owed her, for
she had always taken the part of him and his country against Richelieu;
but the civic authorities were not so glad to see her, fearing that
she might embroil them with the all-powerful Parliament of England.
They entered her presence with their hats on, seated themselves in her
presence, and took their leave without a bow or a word. But Henrietta
restrained her disgust better than her husband would have done, for
she had great interests at stake, and succeeded by her flattering
courtesies in so melting the Dutch phlegm, that she eventually
succeeded in borrowing of the authorities of Amsterdam eight hundred
and forty-five thousand guilders, at Rotterdam sixty-five thousand, of
the merchants at the Hague one hundred and sixty-six thousand, besides
pawning her pearls for two hundred and thirteen thousand, and six
rubies for forty thousand, thus raising for her husband two million
pounds sterling.

[Illustration: CHARLES DEMANDING THE SURRENDER OF THE FIVE MEMBERS.
(_See p._ 7.)]

Whilst the king was at Canterbury waiting for the queen's departure,
the Commons urged him to sign the two Bills for the removal of the
bishops from Parliament, and of them and the clergy from all temporal
offices, and for power to press soldiers for the service of Ireland.
He passed them, the second Bill to be in force only till the 1st of
November. The Commons expressed their satisfaction, but still urged the
removal of all Privy Councillors and officers of State, except such
as held posts hereditarily, and the appointment of others having
the confidence of Parliament. They then returned to the subject of
the Militia Bill, which would put the whole force of the army into
the hands of Parliament; but there Charles made a stand. He sent
orders that the Prince of Wales should meet him at Greenwich. The
Parliament--which watched his every movement and no doubt was informed
of his intentions--sent a message to the king, praying him to allow the
prince to remain at Hampton Court; but Charles, complaining of these
suspicions, ordered the prince's governor, the Marquis of Hertford, to
bring him to Greenwich. On Sunday, the 27th of February, some of the
Lords went to Greenwich, to endeavour to bring the prince back; but
Charles would not suffer it, declaring that the prince should accompany
him wherever he went. He removed to Theobalds, and there again a
deputation followed him, urging him to grant the matter of the militia,
or that the Parliament would feel compelled to assume it for the safety
of the kingdom. They also renewed their request for the return of the
prince. Charles expressed much surprise at these importunities, and
refused them both.

On receiving this answer, the two Houses issued an order to fit out the
fleet, and put it into the command of the Earl of Northumberland, as
Lord High Admiral. The Lords, who had hesitated to join the Commons in
the demand of the control of the militia, now passed the ordinance for
it with very few dissentients. Fifty-five Lords and Commons were named
as lord-lieutenants of counties, many of them Royalists, but still
not such as the Commons feared joining the king in an open rupture.
The Commons then proceeded to issue a declaration, expressing their
apprehensions of the favour shown to the Irish rebels by the Court;
of the intention of evil advisers of the king to break the neck of
Parliament, and of the rumours of aid from abroad for these objects
from the Pope, and the Kings of France and Spain. The Lords, with only
sixteen dissentient voices, joined in this declaration, and the Earls
of Pembroke and Holland waited on the king with it at Royston. On
hearing this outspoken paper read, Charles testified much indignation,
pronouncing some assertions in it, in plain terms, lies; and when the
earls entreated him to consent to the granting of the militia for a
time, he exclaimed:--"No, by God, not for an hour. You have asked
that of me which was never asked of any king, and with which I should
not trust my wife and children." This was true, but he had formerly
said he would sooner lose his life than consent to the Bill against
the bishops, and yet he gave them up. That he would on the first
opportunity break his word, was certain; that at this very moment his
wife was moving heaven and earth abroad, and pawning her jewels for
money to put down Parliament and people, was equally well known. In
vain, therefore, were the solemn asseverations which he made, that he
desired nothing so much as to satisfy his subjects.

At this moment he was stealing away towards the north. He got away to
Newmarket, thence to Huntingdon, next to Stamford, and from that place
wrote to the two Houses, informing them that he proposed to take up his
residence for a time in York. The deputies had strongly importuned him
to return to the neighbourhood of his Parliament; this was his answer,
accompanied by a positive refusal to put the militia into their hands.
The Houses were at once roused to action. War was inevitable; the king
was intending to take them by surprise. They therefore voted that the
king's absence was most detrimental to the affairs of Ireland; that
the king was easily advised, and that it was necessary for Parliament
that the power of commanding the militia must be exercised by the sole
authority of Parliament, and orders for that purpose were issued to the
lieutenants and deputy-lieutenants of the counties.

Charles had meanwhile proceeded by Doncaster to York, where he arrived
on the 19th of March. On the 26th the Lords Willoughby and Dungarvan,
with Sir Anthony Ereby, arrived from Parliament with a justification of
their proceedings. They admitted that he had passed many satisfactory
Bills at their instance, but that always at the same time some attempts
had been set on foot to render them abortive. They informed him that
they had certain information of preparations making abroad, and of a
design to enter Hull with foreign forces. Charles denied the truth of
these allegations, and assured them that he would return and reside
near his Parliament as soon as he was sure of the safety of his person.
He did not forget, however, the words dropped about Hull. It was of
immense consequence to obtain possession of that place; but it was in
the keeping of the stout Sir John Hotham and his son, who had declared
in Parliament "fall back, fall edge, he would carry out the wishes
of Parliament." As Charles could not hope to obtain it by force, he
conceived the idea of winning it by stratagem. He sent the Earl of
Newcastle to request that the town and arsenals might be put into
his hands. Newcastle assumed the name of Sir John Savage to obtain
admission to the town, but was discovered, and this clumsy trick only
increased the suspicions of the people. Parliament then sent an order
for the removal of the arms and ammunition to the Tower of London; but
Charles told them that he claimed them as purchased with money borrowed
on his own account, and begged they would leave him to look after his
own property. He also sent them word that it was his intention to pass
over to Ireland, to suppress the rebellion; that he should require
all the arms and ammunition for that purpose, and that they would be
necessary for the use of his guard of two thousand foot and two hundred
horse, which he meant to embark there for Ireland.

On the 22nd of April he sent the Duke of York, the Prince Palatine,
his nephew, the Lords Newport, Willoughby, and some other persons of
distinction, but without any armed force, to see the town of Hull.
Sir John Hotham and the mayor received them with all honour, and
entertained them as became their rank. They were shown the place,
and were to dine with the governor on the morrow, being St. George's
Day. Just before dinner-time, however, Hotham was startled by the
sudden appearance of Sir Lewis Dives, brother-in-law of the outlawed
Lord Digby, who informed him that his Majesty intended to do him the
honour to dine with him, and was already within a mile of the town,
accompanied by three hundred horse. Sir John, who saw the trick,
instantly ordered the drawbridges to be raised, and shut the gates in
the king's face, for by this time he had arrived at the Beverley gate.

Charles commanded Sir John to open the gate and admit him and his
guard, but Sir John replied that, though a loyal subject of his
Majesty, he could not do so without consent of Parliament, which had
put the town into his keeping. If his Majesty would be pleased to enter
with the prince and twelve attendants he should be welcome; but Charles
refused to enter without the whole of his guard. He staid before the
gate from one o'clock till four, continuing the parley, trusting to the
people being affected by the sight of their sovereign, and compelling
the governor to admit him. But he was disappointed, and at four, going
away for an hour, he gave Hotham that time to consider of it. On his
return at five Hotham still refused entrance to more than before, when
Charles proclaimed him a traitor, and rode off with the prince and
his guard to Beverley. The next day he sent a herald to offer Hotham
pardon and promotion on surrender of the town, but in vain; and he then
returned to York.

Each party now hastened to raise forces and prepare for the struggle.
On the 5th of May the Parliament issued a declaration that as the king
refused his consent to the Militia Bill, they called on all men to obey
their own ordinance for the raising of forces and the defence of the
king. In this ordinance they nominated the lieutenants of counties,
who nominated their deputy-lieutenants, subject to the approbation of
Parliament. Amongst these deputies appeared Hampden, Whitelock, St.
John, Selden, Maynard, Grimstone, and other leaders of Parliament,
who now became equally zealous enrollers and drillers of soldiers.
The king, on his side, denounced the order as traitorous and illegal,
forbade all men obeying it, and summoned a county meeting at York for
promoting the levy of troops for his service. At that meeting we find
Sir Thomas Fairfax stepping forward as a Parliamentary leader, and
laying on the pommel of the king's saddle a strong remonstrance from
the freeholders and farmers of Yorkshire, who advised the king to come
to an agreement with his Parliament.

The country was now come to that crisis when every man must make up
his mind, and show to which side of the dispute he leaned. It was
a day of wonderful searching of characters and interests, and many
strange revolutions took place. Towns, villages, families, now appeared
in convulsion and strife, and some fell one way, some another, not
without much heart-ache and many tears, old friends and kindred parting
asunder, to meet again only to shed each others' blood. Then was there
a strange proclaiming and contradiction of proclamations, one party
denouncing and denying the proceedings of the other. The king raised
only a troop of horse and a regiment of foot; the Parliament soon
found themselves at the head of eight thousand men, consisting of six
regiments, commanded by zealous officers, and the month of May saw
the fields of Finsbury white with tents, and Major-General Skippon
manœuvring his train-bands.

The next shift was for the fleet. The Earl of Northumberland being ill,
or more probably indisposed, the Commons ordered him to surrender his
command to the Earl of Warwick for the time. The Lords hesitated, on
account of the king's sanction being wanted for such an appointment;
but the Commons settled it alone. Clarendon says that the king
remained passive, confiding in the attachment of the sailors, whose
pay he had advanced; but we hear from other sources that Charles had
contrived to alienate the mariners as much as the rest of his subjects,
by calling them "water-rats." His popularity with them was soon tested,
for he ordered the removal of Warwick, and that Pennington should take
his place; but the sailors would not receive him. Without ammunition or
arms, Charles's forces were of little use, and the Commons proclaimed
that any one who should bring in such material without consent of
Parliament, or should bring in money raised on the Crown jewels, would
be considered an enemy to the country.

The coasts being diligently watched by the fleet, Charles now turned
to the Scots, the leaders of whom he hoped to win over by the honours
and favours he had distributed on his last visit; and, in truth, the
members of the Council seemed quite inclined to fall in with his
wishes; but the English Commons being made aware of it, soon turned
the scale, letting both Council and people know that it was their
interest, as much as that of England, that the king should come to an
understanding with his Parliament, which, they asserted, sought only
the good of both king and people. The Parliament had now, however, to
witness considerable defections from its own body, for many thought
that they were driving matters too far; that the king had conceded
more than was reasonable, and that the Commons were themselves aiming
at inordinate power. Amongst those who had gone off to the king were
the Lord Falkland, Sir John Colepepper, and Mr. Hyde (afterwards Lord
Clarendon and historian of the Rebellion). Falkland and Colepepper,
Charles had, before leaving, made his ministers, and Hyde had long been
secretly seeing the king, conveying all the news to him at night, and
writing his declarations. The Commons had perceived well enough who
composed those papers by the style, yet they could not directly prove
it; but he was found by the Earls of Essex and Holland shut up with the
king at Greenwich, and by the Marquis of Hamilton at Windsor. In April
the king summoned Hyde to attend him at York; but even then, as if
afraid of the Parliament, he had gone in a very private way, pretending
that he sought the country for his health; and even after reaching
the neighbourhood of York, instead of openly avowing his adhesion to
the royal cause, he kept himself concealed in the neighbourhood, and
attended to the king's correspondence. He arrived in Yorkshire at
the end of May; but, before leaving London, he had contrived that the
Lord Keeper Lyttelton should run off with the Great Seal to the king,
a matter of no little importance, as regarded the authenticity of all
public documents.

Numbers of both Lords and Commons continued to steal away to the king,
especially, says May, lawyers and clergy, "whose callings made them
capable of easier and greater gratifications from the king than other
men, and therefore apt to lean that way where preferment lies." The
Commons summoned nine peers, who had gone away to York, to appear in
their places in Westminster, and, on their refusing, impeached them of
high treason. These were Spencer, Earl of Northampton, the Earls of
Devonshire, Dover, Monmouth, and the Lords Howard of Charlton, Rich,
Grey of Ruthven, Coventry, and Capel.

On the 2nd of June the Lords and Commons sent proposals to the king
for an amicable arrangement of the national affairs on a permanent
basis; but matters had so far changed with Charles, that he was in no
mood to listen. On that very day, one of the ships, freighted by the
queen in Holland with arms and ammunition, managed to elude the fleet
and land supplies on the Yorkshire coast. With these, and the prospect
of more, with a number of lords and courtiers around him, Charles at
once dropped the humble and conciliatory tone, called the Parliament a
nest of caballers and traitors, who had no right to dictate to him, the
descendant of a hundred kings, and protested that he would never agree
to their terms if he were bound and at their mercy.

From this moment all hope of accommodation was at an end, and king
and Parliament went on preparing with all diligence for trying their
strength at arms. The question to be decided was, whether England
should be an abject despotism or a free nation. If the Parliament
were worsted, then must England sink to the level of the rest of the
king-ridden nations. On the part of the king, his adherents joined
him in his solemn engagement to maintain the Protestant religion, and
to claim nothing but his rightful prerogative; on the part of the
Parliament, an avowal as solemn was, that they fought not against the
king, but for him and his crown, as well as for the liberties and
privileges of the people, which were endangered by the evil counsellors
of the king.

[Illustration: LORD FALKLAND. (After the Portrait by Vandyke.)]

On the 10th of June the Commons issued an address, in which they
intimated that they would receive money and plate for maintaining the
struggle, engaging to pay eight per cent. interest, and appointing Sir
John Wollaston and three other aldermen of London treasurers. In a very
short time an immense treasure was accumulated in Guildhall, the poor
contributing as freely as the rich. Charles wrote to the Corporation
of London, forbidding this collection, but without effect. He made
an attempt also to secure the fleet, inducing the Earl of Warwick to
surrender the command to Admiral Pennington, but only five captains
consented, and these were speedily secured and superseded. On the
12th of July Parliament appointed the Earl of Essex commander of the
army, and many members of the Parliament, both Lords and Commons, took
commissions under him. Amongst these were Sir John Merrick, Lord Grey
of Groby, Denzil Holles, Sir William Waller, Hampden, and Cromwell.
Hampden's regiment was clad in a green uniform, and carried a banner,
having on one side his motto, "_Vestigia nulla retrorsum_;" on the
other, "God is with us." Cromwell, who was also appointed a colonel,
was extremely active in the eastern counties. The whole country was
thrown into the most wonderful state of confusion by the exertions
of the noblemen and gentlemen endeavouring to seize strong places,
and engage the people, some for this side, some for that. Never had
there been such a state of anarchy, opposition, and rending asunder
of old ties. For the most part, the southern counties and mercantile
places were for the Parliament--the more purely agricultural and
remote districts for the king. In many, however, there was a pretty
equal division of interests, and fierce contests for superiority.
In Lincolnshire Lord Willoughby of Parham was very successful for
Parliament. In Essex the Earl of Warwick was equally so, and Kent,
Surrey, Middlesex, and the sea-coast of Sussex, were strongly
Parliamentary. Cromwell did wonders in Suffolk, Norfolk, and Cambridge.
In Berkshire Hampden and the Earl of Holland were opposed by the Earl
of Berkshire, Lord Lovelace, and others; but the Earl of Berkshire was
seized by Hampden, and sent up to the Parliament. In Buckinghamshire
Hampden had it nearly all his own way. Colonel Goring, who was Governor
of Portsmouth, after receiving a large sum from Parliament to put that
place in full condition of defence, betrayed it, as he had before
done the royal party; but the Parliament seized the Earl of Portland,
Goring's ally, and put the Isle of Wight into the keeping of the Earl
of Pembroke. Warwickshire was divided between Lord Brooke for the
Parliament, and the Earl of Northampton for the king; Leicestershire
between the Earl of Huntingdon for the king, and the Earl of Stamford
for the Parliament. Derbyshire was almost wholly for the king, and so
on northward; yet in Yorkshire Lord Fairfax was zealous for Parliament,
and so were Sir Thomas Stanley and the Egertons in Lancashire. The
Earl of Derby and his son, Lord Strange, embraced the side of royalty;
and the first blood in this war was shed by Lord Strange endeavouring
to secure Manchester, where he was repulsed and driven out. Great
expectations were entertained by the Royalists of the assistance of the
numerous Catholics in Lancashire and Cheshire, but they were either
indifferent or overawed. In the west of England the king had a strong
party. Charles, in his commission of array, had appointed the Marquis
of Hertford Lieutenant-general of the West, including seven counties in
Wales, and the second skirmish took place in Somersetshire, between him
and the deputy-lieutenant of the county, where ten men were killed and
many wounded.

No exertions were spared by the Parliament at the same time to induce
the king to come to an arrangement; but he showed that he was at heart
totally unchanged, for he replied to their overtures by still insisting
that the Lord Kimbolton and the five Members of the Commons should be
given up to him, as well as Alderman Pennington, the Lord Mayor of
London, and Captain Venn, commander of the train-bands. He demanded
indictments of high treason against the Earls of Essex, Warwick, and
Stamford, Sir John Hotham, Major-General Skippon, and all who had
dared to put in force the ordinance of Parliament for the raising of
the militia. Yet at the same time he was in secret negotiation with
Hotham for the betrayal of Hull; and Hotham sullied that reputation for
patriotic bravery which he had acquired by listening to him. He was,
however, stoutly resisted by the inhabitants, the garrison, and his
own son. The king then invested Hull, and intrigued with some traitors
within to set fire to the town, so that he might assault it in the
confusion. But the plot was discovered, and the incensed inhabitants
made a sortie under Sir John Meldrum, and put the king's forces to a
precipitate flight.

Charles then marched away to Nottingham, where he raised his standard
on the 25th of August, according to Clarendon; on the 22nd, according
to Rushworth. It was a most tempestuous time; the standard, which
was raised on the castle-hill, an elevated and exposed place, was
blown down in the night, an ominous occurrence in the opinion of both
soldiers and people, and it was three days before it could be erected
again, owing to the fierceness of the wind. Besides the prostration
of the standard, the condition of the king's affairs was equally
discouraging. The people showed no enthusiasm in flocking to the royal
banner, the arms and ammunition did not arrive from York, and the royal
arms had received a severe repulse at Coventry. News came that the
Earl of Essex was at the head of fifteen thousand men at Northampton,
and the Earl of Southampton and his other officers entreated the king
to make overtures of peace to the Parliament, telling him that if
they refused them, it would turn the tide of popular favour against
them. At first Charles listened to such counsels with anger, but at
length despatched Sir John Colepepper to London to treat. But the
Parliament would not hear of any accommodation till the king had pulled
down his standard, and withdrawn his proclamations of high treason
against the Earl of Essex, the accused Members of Parliament, and
all who had supported them. In fact, all attempts at agreement were
become useless, and were rendered more so by the conduct of Charles's
nephew, Prince Rupert, who, with his younger brother Maurice, sons of
Charles's sister, Elizabeth of Bohemia, had arrived in England, and
were placed at the head of the royal cavalry. Whilst Colepepper was
trying to effect a peace in London, Rupert, with that rashness which
afterwards grew so notorious, and so fatal to Charles's army, was
making war through the midland counties, insulting all who advocated
peace, ordering rather than inviting men to the king's standard, and
plundering towns and villages at will for the supply of his troopers.

About the middle of September Charles marched from Nottingham,
intending to reach the west of England and unite his forces with
those of the Marquis of Hertford. He conducted himself in a very
different manner to the fiery Rupert, or Robber, as the people named
him. He everywhere issued the most positive assurances of his love for
his people, and his resolve to maintain their liberties; but these
assurances were not well maintained by his actions betraying the fact
that he was playing a part. He in one place invited the train-bands to
attend his march as his bodyguard, but when they arrived, he expressed
his doubts of their loyalty, forcibly seized their arms, and sent them
away. In spite of his professions to respect his subjects' rights,
he still levied money and supplies in the old arbitrary manner. On
the 20th of September he was at Shrewsbury, where he assured the
inhabitants that he would never suffer an army of Papists, and on the
23rd he wrote to the Earl of Newcastle, telling him that the rebellion
had reached that height, that he must raise all the soldiers he could,
without any regard to their religion. He received five thousand pounds
in cash from the Catholics in Shropshire, sold a title of baron for six
thousand pounds more, and began minting money from plate with great
alacrity. And to put the finish to his insincerity, he despatched
orders to Ireland to send him as many troops thence as they could, who
were almost wholly Catholic.

But the Earl of Essex was carefully watching the king's progress;
he had sent him the Parliamentary proposals of accommodation, which
he refused to receive from what he called a set of traitors. Essex
reached Worcester, in his march to cut off the king's movement towards
London, just as Prince Rupert and Colonel Sandys had had a skirmish in
that town, from which Rupert was forced to fly. There Essex lay still
for three weeks, till at length Charles, encouraged by his inaction,
ventured to quit Shrewsbury on the 20th of October, and by a bold
march by Wolverhampton, Birmingham, and Kenilworth, actually shot past
Essex's position on the road to London. The Parliamentary general,
however, gave quick pursuit, and on the 22nd reached Kineton, in
Warwickshire, just as the king encamped on Edge Hill, close above him.

Charles had the way open, but a council of war advised the attack of
Essex, who had marched at such a rate, that a great part of his forces
was left behind. On the following morning, the 23rd of October--it was
Sunday--Essex accordingly found the royal army drawn up in order of
battle on the heights of Edge Hill. It was a serious disadvantage to
the Parliamentary army to have to charge up hill, and both parties were
loth to strike the first blow. They remained, therefore, looking at
each other till about two o'clock in the afternoon. Charles was on the
field in complete armour, and encouraging the soldiers by a cheerful
speech. He held the title of generalissimo of his own forces; the Earl
of Lindsay was his general, an experienced soldier, who had fought side
by side in the foreign wars with Essex, to whom he was now opposed. So
much, however, was he disgusted with the youthful insolence of Prince
Rupert, that he gave himself no further trouble than to command his
own regiment. Sir Jacob Astley was major-general of the horse, under
Lindsay, Prince Rupert commanding the right wing of the horse, and Lord
Wilmot the left, two reserves of horse being also under the command of
Lord Digby and Sir John Byron. In numbers, both of horse and foot, the
royal army exceeded that which Essex had on the field; but Essex had a
better train of artillery.

Essex had drawn out his army at the foot of the hill in the broad Vale
of the Red Horse. Sir John Meldrum, who had so lately chased the king's
forces from Hull, led the van. Three regiments of horse were posted on
the right, commanded by Sir Philip Stapleton and Sir William Balfour.
On the left were the twenty troops of horse under Sir James Ramsay. In
the centre, behind the cavalry, were posted the infantry, Essex's own
regiment occupying the main position, flanked by two reserves of horse
under Lord Brooke and Denzil Holles.

At two o'clock, according to one historian, Essex commanded his
artillery to fire on the enemy. According to another, the cavaliers
grew impatient of inaction, and demanded to be led against the foe;
and the king firing a cannon with his own hand as a signal for the
assault, the Royalists began to descend the hill. When they came within
musket shot, their spirits were greatly raised by seeing Sir Faithful
Fortescue fire his pistol into the ground, and range himself with two
troops of horse on their side. The Parliamentary cavalry made a charge
on the king's centre, and endeavoured to seize the standard, but could
not resist the pikes of the Royalists. Prince Rupert made a furious
charge on the left wing of the Parliamentarians, broke it, and pursued
it in headlong chase into the village of Kineton, where finding the
baggage of the enemy, he allowed his men an hour to plunder it. This
uncalculating conduct on the part of Rupert continued through the
whole war, and no amount of experience of the disastrous results of it
ever cured him of it in the least. Put him at the head of a body of
horse, and such was his valour and impetuosity that he would carry all
before him, but he was rarely seen again in the field till the battle
was over, when he returned from the headlong chase, often to find his
friends totally defeated.

To-day, during Rupert's absence, the main bodies of infantry were
led into action by Essex and Lindsay, each marching on foot at the
head of his men. The steady valour of the Roundheads astonished the
Cavaliers. The left wing of Charles's army, under Lord Wilmot, sought
refuge behind a body of pikemen, but Balfour, one of the commanders
of the Parliamentary right wing, wheeled his regiment round on the
flank of the king's infantry, broke through two divisions, and seized
a battery of cannon. In another part of the field the king's guards
displayed extraordinary valour, and forced back all that were opposed
to them. Essex perceiving it, ordered two regiments of infantry and a
squadron of horse to charge them in front and flank, and at the same
time Balfour, abandoning the guns he had captured, attacked them in
the rear. They were now overpowered and broke. Sir Edward Varney, the
standard-bearer, was killed, and the standard taken; but this being
entrusted by Essex to his secretary, Chambers, was, by treachery or
mistake, given up to a Captain Smith, one of the king's officers, whom
Charles, for this service, made a baronet on the field. Charles beheld
with dismay his guards being cut to pieces by overwhelming numbers,
and advanced at the head of the reserve to their rescue. At this
moment Rupert returned from his chase, and the remnant of the guards
was saved. Lord Lindsay had received a mortal wound, his son, Lord
Willoughby, and Colonel Vavasour, were taken prisoners in endeavouring
to rescue him, and Colonel Monroe and other officers had fallen. Had
Rupert returned on having put to the rout the Parliamentary right wing,
all this might have been prevented. As it was, a check was given to the
vehemence of the Roundheads, the firing ceased, and both armies having
stood looking at each other till the darkness fell, each drew off, the
Royalists back to their hill, the Parliamentarians to Kineton.

Both parties claimed the victory, but if remaining on the field of
battle, and being the last to march away, are any criterions of
success, these were on the side of Essex. His men lay in the field all
night, a keenly frosty one, without covering, but supplied with meat
and beer; and the next morning Charles marched away to Banbury. It
was said that gunpowder failed in Essex's army, or that he would have
pursued the royal army up the hill. As it was, though strengthened by
the arrival of most of his forces left behind under Hampden, he did not
think fit to follow Charles the next day, but allowed him to continue
his route, himself retreating to Warwick. This was not the part of a
victor, so that neither could be said to have won. The number of slain
has been variously estimated; most writers state it at about five
thousand, but the clergyman of Kineton, who buried the dead, reports
them only twelve hundred.

Charles marched from Banbury to Oxford, where a number of gentlemen,
well mounted, having heard his engagement at Edge Hill represented as
a victory, came in, and thus recruited the wasted body of his cavalry.
Rupert, during the king's stay, kept up that species of warfare which
he had been taught to admire in Count Mansfeld, in Germany. He made
rapid rides round the country, to Abingdon, Henley, and other towns,
where he levied contributions without scruple from the Roundhead
partisans. The Londoners were in the greatest alarm at the tidings
of the king's growing army at Oxford, and sent pressing orders to
Essex to hasten to the defence of the capital. The train-bands were
kept constantly under arms, trenches were thrown up round the city,
forces were despatched to hold Windsor Castle, seamen and boatmen were
sent up the Thames to prevent any approach in that direction, and the
apprentices were encouraged to enrol themselves by the promise of the
time they served being reckoned in the term of their apprenticeship.
At length Essex reached London, posted his men about Acton on the
7th of November, and rode to Westminster, to give an account of his
campaign. It could not be said that he had shown much generalship, but
it was not a time to be too critical with commanders: the brilliant
military genius of Cromwell had not yet revealed itself, therefore the
Parliament gave him hearty thanks, voted him five thousand pounds, and
recommended the capital to his care.

[Illustration: ST. MARY'S CHURCH, NOTTINGHAM. (_From a Photograph by
Frith & Co._)]

Essex was scarcely arrived when news came that Charles had quitted
Oxford, and was directing his march on London. Henry Martin, a member
of the Commons, who commanded at Reading, considering that town
untenable, fell back on London. The panic in the capital was great. A
deputation was sent, consisting of the Earl of Northumberland and three
members of the Commons, to meet the king and present a petition for
an accommodation. They encountered him at Colnbrook: he received the
petition very graciously, and called God to witness that he desired
nothing so much as peace, and the sparing of his bleeding country.
This being reported to Parliament, they ordered Essex to suspend
hostilities, and sent Sir Peter Killigrew to request the same on the
part of the king, supposing that after this gracious message, in which
he promised to reside near London till the differences were settled, he
would have ceased all offensive operations. But scarcely was Killigrew
gone, when Parliament was startled by the sound of artillery, and
Essex rushed from the House and rode in the direction of the sound. He
found Prince Rupert closely followed by the king in the full attack
of Brentford, which was defended by a small force of Holles's horse.
The king had taken advantage of a thick November fog to endeavour to
steal a march on London; but Holles's horse though few were stout,
and withstood the whole weight of the attack till reinforced by the
regiments of Hampden and Brooke. Thus the king's object was defeated,
and the next day, the 13th of November, being Sunday, there was such
an outpouring from London of the train-bands, and of zealous citizens,
that Essex found himself at the head of twenty-four thousand men, drawn
up on Turnham Green. Hampden, Holles, and all the members of Parliament
advised sending a body of soldiers to make a detour and get into the
king's rear, and then to fall vigorously on in front, and Hampden
with his regiment was despatched on this service. But Essex speedily
recalled him, saying he would not divide his forces; and thus not only
was the retreat left open to the king, but three thousand troops,
which had been posted at Kingston Bridge, were called away to add to
the force in London. Charles therefore finding a very formidable body
in front and the way open behind, drew off his forces and retreated
to Reading, and then again to his old quarters at Oxford. Again
Essex had displayed miserably defective tactics, or he might have
readily surrounded and cut up the royal force. It was in vain that
the Parliamentary leaders urged Essex to give instant pursuit of the
retreating army; other officers also thought it better to let the king
take himself away. The Parliament, in great indignation at the king's
conduct, passed a resolution never to enter into any negotiations with
him again; and Charles, pretending equal surprise and resentment,
declared that the Parliament had thrown three regiments into Brentford
after sending to treat with him. But it must be remembered that they
proposed this accommodation at Colnbrook, and what business, then,
had he at Brentford? The march, and the hour of it, were sufficiently
decisive of the king being the aggressor.

Charles lay with his army at Oxford during the winter, and Prince
Rupert exercised his marauding talents in the country round. Of the
Parliamentary proceedings or preparations we have little account,
except that the Parliamentarians were generally discontented with
Essex, who was slow, by no means sagacious, and, many believed, not
hearty in the cause. Sir William Waller, however, drove Goring out
of Portsmouth and took possession of it, so that he was dubbed by
the people William the Conqueror, and it was agitated to put him at
the head of the army in the place of Essex. But another man was now
being heard of. This was Oliver Cromwell, who had quitted his farm
and raised a regiment of his own. He was Colonel Cromwell now. He had
told Hampden at the battle of Edge Hill, where they both were, that it
would never do to trust to a set of poor tapsters and town apprentices
for fighting against men of honour. They must have men, too, imbued
with a principle still higher, and that must be religion. Hampden said
it was a good notion if it could be carried out; and from that time
Cromwell kept it in view, and so collected and trained that regiment
of serious religious men, known as his invincible Ironsides. Cromwell
was active all this winter along the eastern coast, in Cambridgeshire,
Huntingdonshire, Essex, and elsewhere, raising supplies, stopping those
of the enemy, and forming Associations of counties for mutual defence.
Four or six were formed, but all soon went to pieces except that of the
counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, Cambridge, Hertfordshire, of which
Lord Grey of Wark was the commander, and Oliver, his lieutenant, the
soul. This Association maintained its district during the whole war.
In February we find Cromwell at Cambridge, the castle of which, with
its magazines, he had taken by storm, and had now collected there great
forces from Essex, Norfolk, and Suffolk.

The queen's arrival in Yorkshire early in February created immense
enthusiasm amongst the Cavaliers. Her spirit, her manners, her
condescension fascinated all who came near her. She was in every sense
now a heroine, and the fact of the Parliament having impeached her
of high treason, and her head being forfeited if she fell into their
hands, only raised her own resolution and the devotion of all around
her. She was conducted to York by a guard of two thousand Cavaliers,
headed by the Marquis of Montrose himself, and attended by six
pieces of cannon, two mortars, and two hundred and fifty waggons of
ammunition. The Lord Fairfax, who was the only Parliamentary general
with any force in the north besides the Governor of Hull, was gallant
enough to offer to escort her himself with his Roundheads; but she knew
she was outlawed, and declined the honour. She rode on horseback on the
march, calling herself the "she-majesty-generalissima," ate her meals
in the sight of the army, in the open air, and delighted the soldiers
by talking familiarly to them. She remained nearly four months at York,
doing wonderful service to the king's cause, and, as we shall find,
succeeding through the Earl of Newcastle even in corrupting the faith
of the Hothams at Hull. Her arrival gave new spirit to the royal cause,
but was undoubtedly, at the same time, the most fatal thing which could
have happened to it, as it strengthened the king in his obstinate
determination to refuse all accommodation with the Parliament.

And although the Parliament, in its resentment at the king's treachery
at Brentford, had vowed never to treat with him again, in March, 1643,
it made fresh overtures to him. The deputation sent to him consisted
of the Earls of Northumberland, Pembroke, Salisbury, and Holland,
Viscounts Wenman and Dungarvan, John Holland and William Litton,
knights, and William Pierpoint, Bulstrode Whitelock, Edmund Waller, and
Richard Winwood, esquires. They were received by the king in the garden
of Christ Church, and permitted to kiss his hands. On Waller performing
that ceremony, Charles said graciously, "You are the last, but not the
worst, nor the least in my favour." In fact, Waller at that moment was
engaged in a plot for the king, whence the significant remark. As
the two parties insisted on their particular demands, the interview
came to nothing. Courteous as the king was to Waller, he was otherwise
by no means so to the deputation. The queen was in the country with
abundant supplies of arms and ammunition, and he was elated with the
fact. He interrupted the Earl of Northumberland so rudely and so
frequently, whilst reading the Parliamentary proposals, that the earl
stopped, and demanded proudly whether his majesty would allow him to
proceed. To which Charles replied curtly, "Ay! ay!" The negotiations
continued for several weeks, but during their abortive proceedings
military movement was going on. Essex took Reading after a siege of
ten days, and Hampden proposed to invest Oxford and finish the war at
once, which Clarendon confesses would have done it, for the town was
ill fortified, was so crowded with people that it could not long hold
out, and Charles had not then received his ammunition from the queen.
The dilatory spirit of Essex, however, and his officers prevailed, and
this opportunity was lost. In May the ammunition arrived, and whilst
Charles was preparing to act, the Parliament was busy in unravelling
different plots against them. One was that in which Waller was engaged.
This was a most daring one. Waller had been one of the most determined
declaimers in Parliament against the king; but now he had been won over
by Lord Falkland, and had entered into a scheme for betraying London
to the Royalists, and seizing the leaders of the opposition. Mixed up
with this scheme, besides himself, were Tomkins, his brother-in-law,
Challoner, Blinkhorne, and others. A commission of array was smuggled
into the City through Lady Aubigny, whose husband fell at Edge Hill, by
which all inclined to the king's service might receive due authority.
But the servant of Tomkins overheard the conspirators, carried the news
to Pym, and they were speedily in custody. Tomkins and Challoner were
hanged within sight of their own houses; Blinkhorne, White, Hasell, and
Waller were, by the intercession of Essex, reprieved, but Waller was
fined ten thousand pounds and confined in the Tower for a year.

About the same time a similar plot for betraying Bristol was detected
by Colonel Fiennes, the governor, son of Lord Say and Sele. The chief
conspirators were Robert and William Yeomans, who were condemned to be
executed; but one of them was saved by the king declaring that he would
hang as many of his prisoners. The prospect which was opened of terror
and barbarity by such retaliation put an end to it, and saved at this
time Colonel Lilburne, who had been taken at Brentford. Lilburne was an
ultra-republican, and at the same time a declaimer from the Bible on
the mischief of kings. He had been whipped in Westminster, but had only
been made more outrageous, and was so pugnaciously inclined, that it
was said that if he were left alone in the world, John would be against
Lilburne, and Lilburne against John. Charles ordered his execution,
but the threats of the Parliament of sweeping retaliation saved the
democratic orator and soldier.

The Parliament now made a new Great Seal, and passed under it no less
than five hundred writs in one day. All other events, however, sank
into comparative insignificance before one which now occurred. Prince
Rupert had extended his flying excursions of cavalry, and committed
great depredations in Gloucestershire, Wilts, Hants, and even as far
as Bath; and though the Earl of Essex had his forces lying about Thame
and Brickhill, in Buckinghamshire, yet he was so inert that Rupert
burst into both Bucks and Berkshire in his very face. Colonel Hurry,
who had gone over from Essex to the king, now informed Rupert that two
Parliamentary regiments were lying at Wycombe, apart from the rest of
the army and easy to be cut off. The fiery prince at once determined
to make a night attack upon them. He trotted away from Oxford on the
17th of June with two thousand horsemen, rode past Thame, where Essex
was lying, without any opposition, and reached the hamlet of Postcombe
at three o'clock in the morning. Here, to their surprise, they found a
body of horse posted to stop them. Hampden, in fact, who ought to have
been at the head of the army, had been uneasy about the unprotected
condition of the two regiments at Wycombe, and had in vain urged Essex
to call in the outposts from Wycombe, Postcombe, and Chinnor. Not being
able to rouse him to this prudent measure, he continued on the alert,
and hearing of the march of Rupert in that direction, despatched a
trooper in all haste to Essex, to advise him to move a body of horse
and foot instantly to Chiselhampton Bridge, the only place where Rupert
could cross the Cherwell. Not satisfied with this, he himself rode
with some cavalry in that direction, and found Rupert on the field
of Chalgrove, in the midst of the standing corn. On being checked
at Postcombe, Rupert had diverged to Chinnor, surprised the outpost
there, killed fifty men, and captured sixty others. On descrying
Hampden's detachment coming down Beacon Hill, he posted himself in
the wide field of Chalgrove, where he was attacked by the troops of
Captains Gunter and Sheffield, with whom Hampden had ridden. They
boldly charged Rupert, but Gunter was soon slain, and Hampden, who was
looking impatiently but in vain for Essex's reinforcements, rode up to
lead on Gunter's troopers to the charge, and received a mortal wound.
He did not fall, but, feeling his death blow, wheeled round his horse,
and rode away towards the house of his father-in-law at Pyrton, whence
he married his first wife, whose early death had made such a change
in him. The soldiers of Rupert barred the way in that direction, and
he made for Thame, and reached the house of Ezekiel Browne. He still
continued to live for a week, and spent the time with what strength
he had in urging on Parliament a correction of the palpable military
errors of the campaign, and especially of the dilatory motions of
Essex, which in fact had cost him his life. He expired on the 24th of
June, and was buried in his own parish church at Hampden, followed to
the grave by his regiment of green-coats with reversed arms and muffled
drums.

The news of this national disaster spread dismay through London and
over the whole country. The prudence, the zeal, and activity united
in Hampden, had made him one of the most efficient men in the House
and in the field. The suavity of his manners, the generosity of his
disposition, the soundness of his judgment, had won him universal
confidence. It was clearly seen that nothing but the deepest and most
patriotic concern for the real welfare of the country animated him.
Though he was conscientiously convinced of the mischief of political
bishops, he was attached to the doctrines of the Church of England;
and though he was, like Pym, firmly persuaded that nothing but the
strongest obligations, the most imperative necessity, would ever tie
down Charles to an observance of the limits of the Constitution, he
was far from dreaming of his death, or of sweeping away the monarchy
to make way for a republic. A little more time must have placed him
at the head of the army, and, with such a right-hand man as Cromwell,
must have soon terminated the campaign. His death seemed like a general
defeat, and struck the deepest and most lasting sorrow into the public
mind. Time has only increased the veneration for the name of John
Hampden, which has become the watchword of liberty, and the object of
popular appeal in every great crisis of his country's history.

Other discouragements fell on the Parliament at the same period. The
Earl of Newcastle had established so strong a power in the North, that
he had reduced the resistance of the Fairfaxes to almost nothing. His
army abounded with Papists, and was officered by many renegade Scots,
amongst them, conspicuous, Sir John Henderson. He had possession of
Newark Castle, and even repulsed Cromwell in Lincolnshire. But his
greatest triumph was in seducing the Hothams, father and son, and
nearly succeeding in obtaining possession of Hull from their treason.
Newcastle had defeated the Fairfaxes at Atherton Moor, and if Hull
was lost, all was lost in the North. It was therefore proposed to put
Hull into the hands of Lord Fairfax and his son Sir Thomas, which
probably hastened the defection of the Hothams. The plot, however, was
discovered in time; the Hothams were seized, their papers secured,
their letters intercepted, the whole treason made open to the daylight,
and the delinquents shipped off to London. Great as had been their
services in Hull, their apostasy wiped away all past merits, and they
were condemned and executed on Tower Hill.

These melancholy events were considerably softened by the growing
successes of Cromwell, who seemed to be almost everywhere at once,
always fighting, mostly successful. On the 13th of March he dashed
into St. Albans and seized the sheriff, who was enrolling soldiers by
the king's writ, and sent him off to London. On the 17th he marched
from Norwich and took Lowestoft, with a number of prisoners, amongst
them Sir Thomas Barker, Sir John Pettus, and Sir John Wentworth, who
were glad to compromise with good fines, Wentworth paying one thousand
pounds. He next made an attempt to wrest Newark Castle from the Earl
of Newcastle, but in vain (it stood out to the end of the war); but
he raised the siege of Croyland, made his appearance at Nottingham
and Lynn, and in July he defeated Newcastle's troops near Grantham,
took Burghleigh House and Stamford, and, before the month closed,
fought a stout battle under the walls of Gainsborough to relieve Lord
Willoughby, who was sorely pressed in that town by Newcastle's forces,
and but for Cromwell's timely march to his aid, would have been cut
to pieces. Cromwell attacked the besiegers on some sandhills near
the town, dispersed them, and killed General Cavendish, a cousin of
Newcastle's. After this exploit, however, Newcastle's main army came
down upon them, and they were compelled to retreat to Lincoln, and even
beyond it.

[Illustration: HAMPDEN MORTALLY WOUNDED AT CHALGROVE. (_See p._ 20.)]

Meanwhile, the Parliamentary affairs went greatly wrong in the West.
Waller, who had gained the name of Conqueror by his rapid reduction of
Portsmouth, Winchester, Malmesbury, and Hereford, was now defeated with
an army eight thousand strong by Prince Maurice, near Bath, and by Lord
Wilmot, near Devizes. His whole army was dispersed, and he hastened
to London to complain of the inaction of Essex as the cause of his
failure. Indeed, the army of Essex distinguished itself this summer so
far only by inaction, whilst Rupert in the west laid siege to Bristol,
and in three days made himself master of it, through the incapacity of
Fiennes, the governor, who was tried by a council of war and sentenced
to death, but pardoned by Essex with loss of his commission.

It was imagined that Charles, being now reinforced by a number of
French and Walloons who came with the queen, and strengthened by
victory, would make a grand attempt on the capital. There was no
little alarm there. Essex, who had done nothing through the summer but
watch his men melt away from his standard, recommended Parliament to
come to terms with the king, and the Lords were of his opinion. Many
of them were ready to run off to Charles on the first opportunity.
Bedford, Holland, Northumberland, and Clare, father of Denzil Holles,
were strongly suspected, and soon after proved that these suspicions
were not unjust. Four nobles had been appointed to raise new forces,
but seeing how things were going, all declined their commissions
except Lord Kimbolton, now by the death of his father become Earl of
Manchester. He accepted the command of the Eastern Association, having
Cromwell and three other colonels under him, and soon had a fine force
in those counties.

Parliament, listening to neither Essex nor the faint-hearted fears
of the peers, refused to open fresh negotiations with the king. They
called on the Londoners to invigorate their train-bands, and to put the
City into a state of defence; and their call was zealously responded
to. Ladies as well as gentlemen turned out and handled spades and
pickaxes in casting up an entrenchment all round the City. Pym and
St. John were sent to the army and seemed to infuse a new spirit into
Essex, pronouncing him sound in the cause. Charles, if he ever thought
of attacking London, seeing the spirit there, turned his attention to
the West and invested Gloucester. Essex was despatched to relieve that
city, and made a march much more active and efficient than was his
wont. He set out on the 26th of August, and on the night of the tenth
day--though he had been harassed on his way by the flying troopers of
Rupert and Lord Wilmot--that is, on the 5th of September, the people
of Gloucester saw his signal fires on the top of Prestbury Hill, amid
the rain and darkness. The king also saw them, fired his tents in the
morning, and marched away. From that hour the prospects of Charles grew
gloomier.

Essex having relieved Gloucester, and left a good garrison there under
the brave governor, Colonel Massey, made the best of his way back
again, lest the king should outstrip him and take up a position before
London. Charles had not neglected the attempt to cut off his return.
At Auborne Chase Essex was attacked by the flying squadrons of Rupert,
and after beating them off he found the king posted across his path at
Newbury on the 20th of September. The royal army occupied the bank of
the river which runs through the place, to prevent his passage. Every
part where there was a chance of the Parliamentary forces attempting
to cross was strongly defended by breastworks, and musketeers lined
the houses facing the river. It was supposed that Charles could easily
keep the Roundheads at bay, and force them to retreat or starve. Essex
drew up his forces, however, with great skill upon an eminence called
Bigg's Hill, about half a mile from the town, and Charles was prepared
to wait for a chance of taking him at a disadvantage. But the rashness
of the young Cavaliers under Digby, Carnarvon, and Jermyn, led to
skirmishes with the Parliamentarians, and Charles soon found himself
so far involved, that he was obliged to give orders for a general
engagement. The royal horse charged that of Essex with a recklessness
amounting almost to contempt; but though they threw them into disorder,
they found it a different matter with the infantry, consisting of the
train-bands and apprentices of London. These received the Cavaliers
on their pikes, and stood as immovable as a rock, and showed such
resolute and steady spirit, that they soon allowed the horse to
recover itself, and the whole army fought with desperation till dark.
The effect was such, that Charles would not risk another day of it.
Waller was lying at Windsor with two thousand horse and as many foot,
and should he come up as he ought, the king would be hemmed in and
placed in imminent peril. But Waller lay perfectly still--purposely,
as many thought--leaving Essex to take care of himself, as the earl
had formerly left him at Roundaway Hill. In the morning, therefore,
Essex found the king's forces withdrawn and the way open. Charles
had retreated again towards Oxford, having deposited his guns and
ammunition at Donnington Castle, Chaucer's old residence, which lay
within sight, and ordered Rupert to harass the Parliament army on its
march. Essex made his way to Reading, whence he hurried up to town
to complain of the neglect of Waller, and to offer the surrender of
his commission. This was not accepted, but the only alternative was
adopted, that of withdrawing the command from Waller, which, after much
reluctance, was done on the 9th of October.

The Parliamentarians lost five hundred men in the battle, the king
three times that number and many officers; but the greatest loss of
all was that of the amiable and conscientious Lord Falkland, a man on
the Royalist side as much respected as Hampden was on the Parliament
side. He had gone with the Parliament till he thought they had
obtained all that they were justly entitled to, and pressed too hard
on the king, when he felt it his duty to support the Crown, and had
accepted office as Secretary of State. He was a man of a most cheerful,
cordial, courteous disposition; but from the moment the war broke
out, his cheerfulness fled. He seemed to feel in himself the wounds
and miseries of his bleeding country. He was constantly an advocate
of peace, and was often observed sitting in a state of abstraction,
uttering aloud and unconsciously the words, "Peace! peace!" As the war
went on his melancholy increased; he neglected his dress, and became
short and hasty in his temper. He declared that "the very agony of the
war, and the view of the calamities and desolation which the kingdom
did and must endure, took his sleep from him, and would break his
heart." Whitelock says that "on the morning of the fight he called
for a clean shirt, and being asked the reason of it, answered that
if he were slain in the battle, they would not find his body in foul
linen. Being dissuaded by his friends against going into the fight, as
having no call to it, being no military officer, he said he was weary
of the times, and foresaw much misery to his country, and did believe
he should be out of it ere night, and could not be persuaded to the
contrary, but would enter into the battle, and was there slain." His
death was deeply lamented by all parties. Besides him fell the Earls of
Sunderland and Carnarvon.

When the king's affairs were in the ascendant by the successes in the
West, the taking of Bristol, and the defeat of Waller at Roundaway
Hill, near Devizes, the Earls of Bedford, Northumberland, Holland, and
Clare deserted the Parliament cause. Northumberland, being cautious,
retired to Petworth, to see how the other lords who meant to go over to
Charles should be received. Bedford, Clare, and Holland offered their
services to the king, and went to Wallingford, where they were suffered
to wait a great while, much to their chagrin. They then went to Oxford,
whilst Charles was in the West, and were ordered to await his return.
The queen and the courtiers, meanwhile, treated them not as valuable
and influential allies, whose good reception would certainly bring over
many more, but, with consummate folly, as renegades, who had forfeited
all respect by taking part with the king's enemies. They followed
the king to Gloucester, where they were coolly enough received, and
afterwards fought on his side at Newbury; but nothing winning them
that estimation which good policy would have granted them at once,
they made their peace with Parliament and went back to London, where,
however, they found they had sunk greatly in public opinion, and were
not permitted to take their seats in the House of Peers or hold office.
Their flight had lowered the public estimation of the Lords, and their
reception at Oxford had seriously injured the king's cause. Whilst the
king and queen retained their impolitic resentments, there was no hope
of winning over friends from the ranks of their opponents. It was clear
that neither time nor trouble had really taught them anything. Moreover
we also learn from the pages of Clarendon that there existed great
discord and division in the camp at Oxford. Every one was jealous of
the slightest promotion or favour shown to another; and the Cavaliers,
he says, had grown disorderly, and devoted to the plundering of the
people, just as the Parliamentary army was growing orderly, zealous,
and efficient. To such an extent was this the case that one side seemed
to fight for monarchy with weapons of confusion, and the other to
destroy the king and Government with all the principles and regularity
of monarchy.

This was seen in nothing more than in the management with regard to
Scotland. To both parties it was of the highest consequence to have
the alliance of the Scots. Charles, on his last visit, had flattered
the people, given in to the notions of the Covenanters, and conferred
honours on their leaders. But Montrose, who knew the Covenanters well,
assured the king that he would never get them to fight on his side.
They were too much united in interest and opinion with the Puritan
Parliament not to adhere to it. He proposed, therefore, to raise
another power in Scotland--that of the nobility and the Highlanders,
who should at least divide the country, delay if not prevent the army
of the Covenanters from leaving the country, and thus save the king
from the danger of an invasion in that quarter, the first result of
which would be the loss of his ascendency in the northern counties of
England. When the queen came to York, Montrose waited on her, and did
all in his power to awaken a sense of peril in Scotland, and offered
to raise ten thousand men there, and paralyse the designs of the
Covenanters. But when these representations were made to Charles, the
Marquis of Hamilton, now made duke, strongly opposed the advice of
Montrose, declared that it was monstrous to set Scots against Scots,
and that he would undertake to keep them quiet. He prevailed, and
Montrose, disappointed, retired again to Scotland to watch the progress
of events. Hamilton went to Scotland, with authority from the king to
take the lead in all movements of the Royalists.

As was foreseen, the English Parliament made overtures to the Scots
for assistance, and the Scots were by no means loth to grant it,
provided they could make advantageous terms. A Commission was sent to
Edinburgh to treat, and the Scots on their part resolved to call a
Parliament to receive their offers. The time fixed for the reassembling
of the Scottish Parliament was not come by a full year, and the Duke
of Hamilton had most particularly pledged himself to the king to
prevent it from meeting. Yet on the 22nd of June, notwithstanding
his remonstrance, it came together, and on the 20th of July the
Commissioners from the English Parliament arrived, and were received by
both Parliament and General Assembly with exultation, and their letters
from the Parliament of England were read with shouts of triumph--by
many, with tears of joy. Their arrival was regarded as a national
victory.

The conduct of Hamilton was now suspicious. If he was honest he had
misled the king, for he found he had no power to resist the popular
feeling in Scotland; but the general opinion coincided with that of
Montrose, that he was a traitor. The Royalists called upon him to
summon them to his aid, to assemble them in a large body, mounted and
armed, and, supported by them, to forbid the meeting of Parliament as
illegal. But that, Hamilton assured them, would frighten the people,
and lead to disturbance. He proposed that the meeting should take
place, that all the Royalist members should appear in their places,
and then he would declare the meeting illegal, and dismiss it. To
their astonishment, however, Hamilton did not dismiss it, but allowed
it to sit. On this Montrose posted away to England, followed the king
to Gloucester, and represented to him the conduct of Hamilton as
confirming all former declarations of his perfidy. After the battle of
Newbury, Charles listened more at leisure to these representations. He
was so far convinced that he thought of ordering the Earl of Newcastle
to send for Hamilton and his brother Lord Lanark, and to confine them
at York. But at that moment the two brothers, probably aware of the
proceedings of Montrose, appeared themselves at Oxford, where Charles
ordered the Council to examine into the charges against them. Lanark
managed to escape from custody, and hastened direct to London and to
the Parliament, which received him most cordially, a pretty strong
proof of mutual understanding. This satisfied Charles of Hamilton's
complicity, and he sent him in custody to the castle of Bristol, thence
to Exeter, and thence to Pendennis in Cornwall.

The Commissioners sent to Scotland were Henry Vane the younger, Armyn,
Hatcher, Darley, and Marshall, with Nye, an independent. The Scots
proposed to invade England on condition that the Parliament adopted
the Covenant, and engaged to establish uniformity of religion in both
countries, "according to the pattern of the most reformed Church,"
which, of course, meant Presbyterianism. But the Commissioners knew
that this was impossible, for though a considerable number of the
people were Presbyterian in doctrine, many more were Independent, and
just as sturdy in their faith, to say nothing of the large section
of the population which held conscientiously to both Episcopacy and
Catholicism. Vane himself was a staunch Independent, and he was at
the same time one of the most adroit of diplomatists. He consented
that the Kirk should be preserved in its purity and freedom, and that
the Church of England should be reformed "according to the Word of
God." As the Scots could not object to reformation according to the
Word of God, and "the example of the first Reformed churches," which
they applied especially to their own, they were obliged to be content
with that vague language. Vane also obtained the introduction of the
word League, giving the alliance a political as well as a religious
character. It was concluded to send a deputation with the Commissioners
to London, to see the solemn "League and Covenant" signed by the two
Houses of Parliament, at the head of which went Alexander Henderson,
the well-known Moderator of the Assembly. Whilst they were on their
journey, the ministers in Scotland readily proclaimed from their
pulpits that now the Lord Jesus had taken the field against antichrist,
that Judah would soon be enslaved if Israel was led away captive, and
that the curse of Meroz would fall on all who did not come to the help
of the Lord against the mighty.

[Illustration: ARCHBISHOP LAUD'S LIBRARY, EAST QUADRANGLE, JOHN'S
COLLEGE, OXFORD.]

On the 25th of September, the very day that Essex arrived in London
after the battle of Newbury, and received the thanks of Parliament,
the two Houses met with the Westminster divines in the church of St.
Margaret, where, after various sermons, addresses, and blessings,
the two Houses signed the League and Covenant, and their example was
followed by the Scottish Commissioners and the divines. It was then
ordered to be subscribed in every parish by all persons throughout the
country.

It was agreed that the Estates of Scotland should send an army of
twenty-one thousand men into England, headed by the old Earl of Leven.
They were to receive thirty-one thousand pounds a month,--one hundred
thousand pounds of it in advance, and another sum at the conclusion of
peace. Sixty thousand pounds were soon remitted, the levies began, and
in a few months Leslie mustered his army at Harlaw.

The union of the Scots with the Parliament was an alarming blow to
the Royalists. If they had found it difficult to cope with Parliament
alone, how were they to withstand them and the Scots? To strengthen
himself against this formidable coalition, Charles turned his attention
to Ireland. There the army had actually grown to fifty thousand men.
As the restorers of the English influence, these were to be paid out
of the estates of the revolted Irish, and numbers of both English
and Scots had flocked over. A large body of Scots had landed under
the command of General Monro, eager to avenge the massacre of their
Presbyterian brothers in Ulster. The natives had been driven back, and
the invaders were busy parcelling out the evacuated lands. Two million
and a half of acres had been promised by the English Parliament as the
reward of the victors.

To resist the tempest which threatened to exterminate them, the Irish
Catholics formed themselves into a confederation, and created a kind
of Parliament at Kilkenny. They imitated in everything the measures by
which the Scots had succeeded in enfranchising their religion. They
professed the most profound loyalty to the sovereign, and asserted
that they were in arms only for the protection of their religion and
their lives. They established a synod which assumed the same religious
authority as the Scottish Assembly, and ordered a covenant to be taken,
by which every one bound himself to maintain the Catholic faith and
the rights of the sovereign and the subject. They appointed generals
in each province, and all necessary officers for the command of their
force. Charles, who suspected the allegiance of the Earl of Warwick,
had contrived to remove him, and appointed the Marquis of Ormond in his
place. To him the confederate Catholics transmitted their petition,
avowing the most unshaken loyalty, declaring that they had only taken
up arms to defend their lives and properties from men who were equally
the enemies of the king and their own,--from the same puritanic people,
so they said, who were seeking to deprive the king of his crown. These
petitions, forwarded to Charles, suggested to him the idea of deriving
use from these forces. As they prayed him to assemble a new Parliament
in Ireland, to grant them the freedom of their religion and the rights
of subjects, he instructed Ormond to come to terms with them, so that
in their pacification they might be able to spare a considerable
body of troops for his assistance in England. This was effected in
September, 1643, and the confederates contributed directly thirty
thousand pounds for the support of the royal army, fifteen thousand
pounds in money, and fifteen thousand pounds in pensions.

This was not accomplished without exciting the notice of the English
Parliament, who sent over Commissioners to endeavour to win over the
Protestants in Ormond's army, but in vain. In November Ormond shipped
five regiments to the king. These were sent to Chester to garrison that
town under Lord Byron; but they were rather marauders than soldiers;
they had been raised by the Parliament, yet fought against it for
the king; and they were as loose in discipline as in principles. In
about six weeks after their arrival, they were visited by Sir Thomas
Fairfax at Nantwich, when fifteen thousand of them threw down their
arms, amongst them the afterwards notorious General Monk. Nor was this
the only mischief occasioned to the royal cause by these Irish troops.
Their arrival disgusted the royal forces under Newcastle in the North,
who declared they would not fight with Catholics and Irish rebels.

Whilst the Scots were mustering to enter England, the Marquis of
Newcastle was bearing hard on the Parliament forces in Yorkshire. He
had cleared the country of them except Hull, which he was besieging;
and Lincolnshire was also so overrun with his forces, that Lord
Fairfax, governor of Hull, was obliged to send his son, Sir Thomas,
across the Humber, to the help of the Earl of Manchester. Fairfax
united with Cromwell near Boston, and at Winceby-on-the-Wolds, about
five miles from Horncastle, the united army under Manchester came to a
battle with the troops of Newcastle, and completely routed them, thus
clearing nearly all Lincolnshire of them. Cromwell had a horse killed
under him, and Sir Ingram Hopton, of Newcastle's army, was killed. The
battle was won by Cromwell and Fairfax's cavalry.

The close of 1643 was saddened to the Parliament by the death of
Pym (December 8). It was, indeed, a serious loss, following that of
Hampden. No man had done so much to give firmness to the Commons, and
clearness to the objects at which they aimed. His mind was formed on
the old classic model of patriotic devotion. He had no desire to pull
down the Crown or the Church, but he would have the one restrained
within the limits of real service to the country, and the other
confined to those of its communion. Therefore he recommended, sternly,
resistance to the royal power--preferring civil war to perpetual
slavery--and the exemption of bishops and clergymen from all civil
offices. Seeing from the first the ends that he would attain, guided
by the most solemn and perspicuous principles, he never swerved from
them under pressure of flattery or difficulty, nor would he let the
State swerve. His eloquence and address, but far more his unselfish
zeal, enabled him to prevail with the Commons and intimidate the Lords.
He boldly told the Peers that they must join in the salvation of the
country, or see it saved without them, and take the consequences in the
esteem or the contempt of the people. They would have fared better had
they profited by his warning. Pym was the Aristides of the time: he
sought no advantage to himself, he gained nothing from his exertions
or his prominent position, but the satisfaction of seeing his country
saved by his labours. He derived no influence from his wealth or rank,
for he had none of either. His whole prestige was intellectual and
moral. He wore himself out for the public good, and died as poor as he
commenced, the only grant which he received from the State being an
honourable burial in Westminster Abbey.

At the opening of 1644 Charles had devised a scheme for undermining
the authority of the Parliament, namely, by issuing a proclamation
for its extinction. Clarendon, who was now the Lord Chancellor,
very wisely assured him that the members of Parliament sitting at
Westminster would pay no heed to his proclamation, and that a better
measure would be to summon Parliament to meet at Oxford. That would
give every member of both Houses, who was at all inclined to again
recognise the royal authority, the opportunity to join him; and, on
the other hand, a Parliament assembling by call and authority of the
king at his court, would stamp the other as illegal and rebellious.
The advice was adopted, and at the summons forty-three Peers and one
hundred and eighteen Commoners assembled at Oxford. These, however,
consisted of such as had already seceded from the Parliamentary party,
and the king claimed as the full number of his Parliament at Oxford,
eighty-three Lords, and one hundred and seventy-five Commons. According
to Whitelock, there met at Westminster twenty-two Lords only, and
eleven more were excused on different accounts, making thirty-three;
of the Commons there were more than two hundred and eighty. The
king, in his Parliament, promised all those privileges which he had
so pertinaciously denied to all his past Parliaments, and a letter,
subscribed by all the members of both Houses, was addressed to the Earl
of Essex, requesting him to inform "those by whom he was trusted," that
they were desirous to receive commissioners, to endeavour to come to
a peaceable accommodation on all matters in dispute. Essex returned
the letter, refusing to forward a paper which did not acknowledge the
authority of the body addressed. The point was conceded, and Charles
himself then forwarded him a letter addressed to the Lords and Commons
of Parliament assembled at Westminster in his own name, soliciting, by
advice of the Lords and Commons of Parliament assembled at Oxford, the
appointment of such commissioners "for settling the rights of the Crown
and Parliament, the laws of the land, and the liberties and property
of the subject." But there was no probability of agreement, and so the
Oxford Parliament proceeded to proclaim the Scots, who had entered
England contrary to the pacification, and all who countenanced them
guilty of high treason.

The Scots passed the Tweed on the 16th of January, 1644. The winter
was very severe, and the march of the army was dreadful. They made
their way, however, to Newcastle, where the Marquis of Newcastle had
just forestalled them in getting possession of it. They then went on
to Sunderland. Newcastle offered them battle, but the Scots, though
suffering from the weather and want of provisions, having posted
themselves in a strong position, determined to wait for the arrival of
Parliamentary forces to their aid. The defeat of Lord Byron at Nantwich
permitted Sir Thomas Fairfax and Lord Fairfax, his father, to draw
towards them, and these generals having also defeated at Leeds the
Royalists under Lord Bellasis, the son of Lord Falconberg, Newcastle
betook himself to York, where he was followed by both the Fairfaxes and
the Scots.

Charles was lying at Oxford with a force of ten thousand men; Waller
and Essex, with the Parliamentary army, endeavoured to invest him in
that city, but as they were marching down upon him from two different
quarters, he issued from it with seven thousand men and made his way
to Worcester. As these two generals detested each other and could not
act in concert, Essex turned his march towards the West of England,
where Prince Maurice lay, and Waller gave chase to the king. Charles,
by feint of marching on Shrewsbury, induced Waller to proceed in that
direction, and then suddenly altering his course at Bewdley regained
Oxford. After beating up the Parliamentary quarters in Buckinghamshire,
he encountered and worsted Waller at Cropredy Bridge, and then marched
westward after Essex.

[Illustration: PRINCE RUPERT. (_After the Portrait by Vandyke._)]

While these manœuvres were in progress, the Earl of Manchester, having
as his lieutenant-general Oliver Cromwell, marched northward to
co-operate with Leslie and the Fairfaxes at York against Newcastle.
Charles, who saw the imminent danger of Newcastle, and the loss of
all the North if he were defeated, sent word to Prince Rupert to
hasten to his assistance. Rupert had been gallantly fighting in
Nottinghamshire, Cheshire, and Lancashire, and everywhere victorious.
He had compelled the Parliamentary army to raise the siege of Newark,
had taken Stockport, Bolton, and Liverpool, and raised the siege of
Lathom House, which had been nobly defended for eighteen weeks by the
Countess of Derby. On receiving the king's command, he mustered what
forces he could, and reached York on the 1st of July. The Parliamentary
generals, at his approach, raised the siege, and withdrew to Marston
Moor, about four miles from the city. Rupert had about twenty thousand
men, with whom he had committed dreadful ravages on the Lancashire
hills; he had now relieved the marquis, and might have defended the
city with success, but he was always ready to fight, and Newcastle
having six thousand men, making, with his own forces, twenty-six
thousand, Rupert persuaded him to turn out and chastise the Roundheads.
The English and Scots had about the same number. So little did the
Parliamentarians expect a battle, that they were in the act of drawing
off their forces to a greater distance, when Rupert attacked their
rear with his cavalry. On this they turned, and arranged themselves in
front of a large ditch or drain, and the Royalists posted themselves
opposite. The Scots and English occupied a large rye field bounded by
this ditch, and they placed their troops in alternate divisions, so
that there should be no jealousy between them. It was not till five
o'clock in the afternoon of the 2nd of July that the two armies had
arranged themselves for the fight, and then they stood gazing on each
other for two hours, each loth to risk the disadvantage of crossing
the ditch first. Newcastle, who did not want to fight, had retired to
his carriage in ill-humour, and all began to think that there would be
no battle till the morrow, when Rupert, who was posted on the right
wing with his cavalry, another body of cavalry covering the flank of
the infantry on the left, made one of his sudden and desperate charges.
Like all these exploits of his, it was so impetuous, that it bore the
Parliamentary cavalry on their left wing clear away before it, and
the officers and their horse were speedily in full flight, pursued by
the fiery Rupert, who, as was his wont, forgot all but the fugitives
before him, and with three thousand cavalry galloped after them for
some miles. The Royalist infantry followed up the effect by attacking
that of the Parliament with such fury, that the latter was thrown
into confusion, and the three generals, Manchester, Lord Fairfax, and
Leslie, believing all lost, fled with the rest, in the direction of
Tadcaster and Cawood Castle. Cromwell, who commanded the right wing
of the Parliamentary army, was thus left to fight or flee, as might
happen, but nothing daunted, he attacked the Royalist cavalry with such
vigour that he completely routed them, and then turned again to oppose
the horse of Rupert, who were just returning from the chase, to find
their side in flight. These and a body of pikemen,--Newcastle's "white
coats"--fought desperately. The cavalry, on exhausting their charges,
flung their pistols at the enemies' heads, and then fell to with their
swords. At length the victory remained with Cromwell, Rupert drew off,
and Cromwell remained all night on the field. He sent messages after
the fugitive generals to recall them, but Leslie was already in bed at
Leeds when the news reached him, when he exclaimed, "Would to God I
had died on the place!" Cromwell won great renown by this action. He
kept the field all night with his troopers, who were worn out by the
tremendous exertions of the day, and were in expectation every moment
of a fresh attack from Rupert, who might have collected a large body
of troops together to overwhelm him. But he had lost the battle by
his incurable rashness, after having induced the unwilling Newcastle
to risk the engagement, and he made his retreat into Lancashire, and
thence into the western counties.

[Illustration: SIEGE-PIECE OF CHARLES I.--NEWARK (HALF-CROWN).]

[Illustration: SIEGE-PIECE OF CHARLES I.--PONTEFRACT (SHILLING).]

[Illustration: SIEGE-PIECE OF CHARLES I.--BEESTON (TWO SHILLINGS).]

[Illustration: SIEGE-PIECE OF CHARLES I.--COLCHESTER (TEN SHILLINGS,
GOLD).]

Four thousand one hundred and fifty bodies of the slain were buried on
the moor; the greater part of the arms, ammunition, and baggage of the
Royalists fell into the hands of Cromwell, with about a hundred colours
and standards, including that of Rupert himself, and the arms of the
Palatinate. Newcastle evacuated York and retired to the Continent,
accompanied by the Lords Falconberg and Widderington, and about eighty
gentlemen, who believed the royal cause was totally ruined. This the
bloodiest battle of the war was fought on the 2nd of July, and on the
morning of the 4th the Parliamentary forces were again in muster, and
sat down before the walls of York. On the 7th, being Sunday, they held
a public thanksgiving for their victory, and on the 11th being ready
to take the city by escalade, Glenham, the governor, came to terms, on
condition that the garrison should be allowed to march out with all the
honours of war, and retire to Skipton. On the 16th they evacuated the
city, and the Parliamentarians entered, and marched directly to the
cathedral, to return thanks for their victory. The battle of Marston
Moor had indeed utterly destroyed the king's power in the North.
Newcastle alone stood out; but this the Scots invested, and readily
reduced, taking up their quarters there for the present.

In the West, matters for awhile wore a better aspect for the king.
Essex, on the escape of the king from Oxford, directed his course
west. The Royalists were strong in Devon, Cornwall, and Somersetshire;
but to effectually compete with them, Waller should have united his
forces with the commander-in-chief. He was too much in rivalry with
him to do that. The king set off after Essex, to support his forces
in the western counties, and Essex, as if unaware of the royal army
following him, continued to march on. The queen, who had been confined
of a daughter at Exeter, on the approach of Essex requested of him
a safe conduct to Bath, on pretence of drinking the waters, whence
she proposed to get to Falmouth, and thence back to France. Essex
ironically replied that he would grant her an escort to London, where
she could consult her own physicians, but where he knew that she was
proclaimed guilty of high treason. Henrietta Maria, however, made her
way to Falmouth without his courtesy, and thence in a Dutch vessel,
accompanied by ten other ships, she reached France, though closely
pursued by the English admiral, who came near enough to discharge
several shots at the vessel.

Essex advanced to Lyme Regis, where he relieved Robert Blake,
afterwards the celebrated admiral, who was there closely besieged by
Prince Maurice; and still proceeding, took Taunton, Tiverton, Weymouth,
and Bridport. This was something like victory; but meanwhile, all men
were wondering at his apparent unconsciousness that the Royalist forces
were enclosing him, and that with the exception of about two thousand
horse under Middleton, which kept at a distance and never united with
him, he was wholly unsupported by Waller's troops. In this manner he
advanced into Cornwall, where Prince Maurice joined his forces with
those of the king to cut off his return. At this crisis many began to
suspect that he meant to go over to the king's party, but in this they
misjudged him, for at this time Charles made overtures to him, but in
vain. He received a letter from the king, promising him if he would
join him in endeavouring to bring the Parliament to terms, he would
guarantee both the liberties and religion of the people; and another
from eighty-four of the king's principal officers, protesting that if
the king should attempt to depart from his engagements they would take
up arms against him. Essex sent the letter to the Parliament, proving
his faith to them; but it would have been still better if he could
have proved to them also his military ability. But near Liskeard, he
suffered himself to be hemmed in by different divisions of the royal
army, and his supplies to be cut off by allowing the little port of
Fowey to fall into the hands of the king's generals, Sir Jacob Astley
and Sir Richard Grenville. He was now attacked by Charles on the one
hand, and Colonel Goring on the other. Essex sent pressing demands to
Parliament for succour and provisions, but none came; and one night
in September his horse, under Sir William Balfour, by a successful
manœuvre, passed the enemy, and made their way back to London. Essex,
with Lord Roberts and many of his officers, escaped in a boat to
Plymouth, and Major-General Skippon, with the fort, capitulated,
leaving to the king their arms and artillery.

Essex had no right to expect anything but the most severe censure for
his failure; he retired to his house, and demanded an investigation,
charging his disasters to the neglect of Waller. The Parliament,
however, instead of reproaching him, thanked him for the fidelity which
he had shown when tempted by the king, and for his many past services.

To Cromwell the general aspect of things had become well nigh
intolerable. But it was in vain that he endeavoured to move the heavy
spirit of his superior, the Earl of Manchester, and hence they came
more and more to disputes. Cromwell was insubordinate because it was
impossible that fire could be subordinate to earth. In vain he pointed
out what ought to be done, and he grew impatient and irritated at
what was not done. That irritation and impatience became the greater
as he turned his eyes on what Essex, Waller, and the rest of the
Parliamentary generals were doing. It seemed to him that they were
asleep, paralysed, when a few bold strokes would bring the war to a
close.

Charles having broken up Essex's army in Cornwall, and put Essex
himself to flight, made a hasty march back again to Oxford to avoid
being himself in turn cooped up in the narrow West. Already the
Parliament was mustering its forces for that purpose. Essex and Waller
were again set at the head of troops, and the victorious forces of
Marston Moor, under Manchester and Cromwell, were summoned to join
them. They endeavoured to stop the king in his attempt to reach Oxford,
and encountered him again near the old ground of battle at Newbury.
Charles was attacked in two places at once--Shaw on the eastern, and at
Speen on the western side of the town. The Earl of Essex was ill, or,
as many believed, pretended to be so; at all events, the command fell
to Manchester. On the 26th of October, the first brush took place, and
the next morning being Sunday, the attack was renewed more vigorously.
The soldiers of Manchester, or rather of Cromwell, went into the fight
singing psalms, as was their wont. The battle was fiercely contested,
and it was not till ten o'clock at night that Charles retreated towards
Wallingford. It was full moonlight, and Cromwell prepared to pursue
him, but was withheld by Manchester. Again and again did Cromwell
insist on the necessity of following and completing the rout of the
royal army. "The next morning," says Ludlow, "we drew together and
followed the enemy with our horse, which was the greatest body that I
saw together during the war, amounting at least to seven thousand horse
and dragoons; but they had got so much ground, that we could never
recover sight of them, and did not expect to see any more in a body
that year; neither had we, as I suppose, if encouragement had not been
given privately by some of our party."

In other words, there were strong suspicions that the aristocratic
generals did not want to press the king too closely. This became
apparent ten days after. Charles, on retreating, had done exactly as
he did before at this same Newbury; he had thrown all his artillery
into the Castle of Donnington, and now he came back again to fetch it,
nobody attempting to hinder him, as nobody had attempted to reduce
Donnington and secure the artillery. So extraordinary was the conduct
of the Parliamentary generals, that though Charles passed through
their lines both in going and returning from Donnington, and even
offered them battle, no one stirred. The generals dispersed their
army into winter quarters, and both Parliament and people complained
of the affair of Newbury. The Parliament set on foot an inquiry into
the causes of the strange neglect of public duty, and they soon found
one powerful cause in the jealousies and contentions of the generals.
It was time a new organisation was introduced, and Cromwell saw that
besides the incapacity of the commanders, there were aristocratic
prejudices that stood in the way of any effectual termination of the
war.

Cromwell was at the head of the Independents, and these were as adverse
to the dominance and intolerance of the Presbyterians, as Cromwell
was to the slow-going generals. He knew that he should have their
support, and he determined to come to a point on the vital question of
the arrangement of the war. He had declared plumply, in his vexation,
"That there never would be a good time in England till we had done
with lords;" and he had horrified the milk-and-water aristocrats, by
protesting that "if he met the king in battle, he would fire his pistol
at him as he would at another." He was now resolved to have lords out
of the army at least, and therefore, on the 25th of November, 1644,
he exhibited a charge in the House of Commons against the Earl of
Manchester, asserting that he had shown himself indisposed to finish
the war; that since the taking of York he had studiously obstructed the
progress of the Parliamentary army, as if he thought the king already
too low, and the Parliament too high, especially at Donnington; and
that since the junction of the armies he had shown this disposition
still more strongly, and had persuaded the Council not to fight at all.

Manchester, eight days after, replied at great length, accusing
Cromwell of insubordination, and was supported by Major-General
Crawford, whom the Scottish Presbyterians had got into the army
of Manchester, to counteract the influence of Cromwell and the
Independents. Crawford even dared to charge Cromwell with leaving the
field of Newbury from a slight wound. Cromwell, on the 9th of December,
leaving such charges to be answered by Marston Moor and his share
of Newbury, proposed a measure which at once swept the army of all
its deadweights. In the Grand Committee there was a general silence
for a good space of time, one looking on the other, to see who would
venture to propose the only real remedy for getting rid of the Essexes
and Manchesters out of the army, when Cromwell arose and proposed
the celebrated Self-denying Ordinance. It is now time to speak, he
said, or for ever hold the tongue. They must save the dying nation by
casting off all lingering proceedings, like those of the soldiers of
fortune beyond the sea, who so pursued war because it was their trade.
"What," he asked, "did the nation say?" That members of both Houses
had got good places and commands, and by influence in Parliament or
in the army, meant to keep them by lingering on the war. What he told
them to their faces, he assured them was simply what all the world was
saying behind their backs. But there was a sure remedy for all that,
and for himself, he cared to go no farther into the inquiry, but to
apply that remedy. It was for every one to _deny themselves_ and their
own private interests, and for the public good to do what Parliament
should command. He told them that he would answer for his own soldiers,
not that they idolised him, but because they looked to Parliament, and
would obey any commands the Parliament should lay upon them for the
Cause.

Accordingly, the same day, Mr. Tate, of Northampton, formally moved
the Self-denying Ordinance--that is, that no member of either House
should hold a command in the army or a civil office. This was so
surprising a measure, that even Whitelock observed that "our noble
generals, the Earls of Denbigh, Warwick, Manchester, the Lords Roberts,
Willoughby, and other lords in your armies, besides those in civil
offices, and your members the Lord Grey, Lord Fairfax, Sir William
Waller, Lieutenant-General Cromwell, Mr. Hollis, Sir Philip Stapleton,
Sir William Brereton, Sir John Meyrick, and many others must be laid
aside if you pass this ordinance." The proposition seen in these
dimensions was daring and drastic. Manchester, Essex, Denzil Holles,
Meyrick, Stapleton, and others, who had so long gone on side by side
with Cromwell, Whitelock, and others, were now not only indignant at
Cromwell's bold and aspiring tone, but bitterly opposed to him on the
ground of faith and Church government. They were for preserving Church
and State, and they were linked with the Scots, who were vehement for
the general acceptation of the Presbyterian doctrine, if they could not
carry its formula. They met at Essex House, and concerted how they were
to put down not only this troublesome man, but the troublesome party of
which he was the representative, the Independents, who were for liberty
in the Church and the State, and would hear nothing of the domination
of synods and presbyteries any more than of bishops. They sent to
Whitelock and Maynard, to consult them as lawyers, on nothing less than
impeaching Cromwell as an incendiary. The Lord Chancellor of Scotland
addressed them thus:--"Ye ken varra weel that, Lieutenant-General
Cromwell is no friend of ours, and since the advance of our army into
England, he hath used all underhand and cunning means to take off
from our honour and merit with this kingdom--an evil requital of all
our hazards and services; but so it is, and we are nevertheless fully
satisfied of the affections and gratitude of the gude people of this
nation in general. It is thought requisite for us, and for the carrying
on of the cause of the twa kingdoms, that this obstacle or _remora_ may
be moved out of the way, who, we foresee, will otherwise be no small
impediment to us, and the gude design that we have undertaken. He not
only is no friend to us, and to the government of our Church, but he
is also no well-willer to his excellency, whom you and us all have
cause to love and honour; and if he be permitted to go on in his ways,
it may, I fear, endanger the whole business. Ye ken varra weel the
accord atwixt the twa kingdoms, and the union by the Solemn League and
Covenant, and if any be an incendiary betwin the twa nations, how he is
to be proceeded against."

Whitelock replied that the word "incendiary" meant just the same thing
in English as it did in Scottish, but that whether Cromwell was an
incendiary, was a thing that could only be established by proofs,
and that, he thought, would be a tough matter. Maynard agreed with
Whitelock, and though Holles and others of the Presbyterian party urged
an immediate impeachment, the Scots cautiously paused.

The question of the Self-denying Ordinance was vigorously debated
for ten days in the Commons. Vane seconded the motion of Tate, and
another member observed that two summers had passed over, and they
were not saved. A fast was appointed for imploring a blessing on the
new project. The people of London, on the 12th of December, petitioned
the House, thanking them for their proceedings, and, after serious
debate and opposition, the Bill was passed on the 19th. On the 21st it
was sent up to the Peers, where it was vigorously attacked by Essex,
Manchester, and the rest of the Lords affected. On the 13th of January,
1646, the Lords threw it out. But the Commons went on remodelling the
army, fixed its numbers at twenty-one thousand effective men, namely,
fourteen thousand foot, six thousand horse, and one thousand dragoons.
They then nominated Sir Thomas Fairfax commander-in-chief instead of
Essex; Skippon, the old train-band major, was made major-general; the
lieutenant-general was left unnamed, the Commons, in spite of their own
ordinance, resolving that Cromwell should hold that post, but avoiding
to increase the opposition to the general measure by not mentioning him.

[Illustration: ST. MARGARET'S, WESTMINSTER. (1888.)]

On the 28th of January, the Commons, having completed the organisation
of the army and the appointment of the officers, again sent the
Ordinance up to the Peers who, seeing that they should be obliged to
swallow it, moulded it into a more digestible shape, by insisting
that all officers should be nominated by both Houses, and that no
one should be capable of serving who did not take the Solemn League
and Covenant within twenty days. But the Lords were struck with an
apprehension that the Commons meant to do without them in the end, and
they therefore exercised their rights in opposing the acts of the Lower
House. They refused to sanction one-half of the officers appointed
by Sir Thomas Fairfax, who had been introduced to the Commons on the
18th of February, thanked for his past services, and complimented on
his appointment. To remove the suspicion of the Lords, the Commons
assured them by message that they had bound themselves to be as tender
of the honours and rights of the Peers as they were of their own. This
pacified the Lords, and yielding to a necessity too strong for them,
Essex, Manchester, Denbigh, and the rest resigned their commands, and
on the 3rd of April the Self-denying Ordinance was passed by the Peers.
Sir Thomas Fairfax proceeded to Windsor to remodel the army according
to this Act. He did not find it an easy task; many, who were dismissed
by the Act or for their past conduct, were unwilling to be cashiered;
others would not serve under the new officers; and Dalbier, who had
been one of the worst counsellors of Essex, lay apart with eight troops
of horse, as if he contemplated going over to the king. At length,
however, he came in, and the work was completed.

CHAPTER II.

THE GREAT REBELLION (_concluded_).

Whilst these events were happening in the field and the Parliament,
other events were occurring also both in England and Scotland, the
account of which, not to interrupt the narrative of the higher
transactions, has been deferred. From the month of June, 1643, the
Synod of divines at Westminster had been at work endeavouring to
establish a national system of faith and worship. This Westminster
Assembly consisted of one hundred and twenty individuals appointed by
the Lords and Commons. They included not only what were called pious,
godly, and judicious divines, but thirty laymen, ten lords, and twenty
commoners, and with them sat the Scottish commissioners. The Scottish
and English Presbyterians had a large majority, and endeavoured to
fix on the nation their gloomy, ascetic, and persecuting notions;
but they found a small but resolute party of a more liberal faith,
the Independents, including Vane, Selden, and others, whose bearing
and spirit, backed by Cromwell, Whitelock, St. John, and others in
Parliament, were more than a match for this overbearing intolerance.
On the subject of Church government, therefore, there could be no
agreement. Cromwell demanded from the House of Commons an act of
toleration, and that a Committee should be formed of deputies from
both Houses and from the Assembly to consider it. The subject was
long and fiercely debated, the Lords Say and Wharton, Sir Henry Vane,
and St. John contending for the independence of the Church from all
bishops, synods, and ruling powers. The only thing agreed on was, that
the English Common Prayer-book should be disused, and a Directory of
worship introduced which should regulate the order of the service,
the administration of the Sacrament, the ceremonies of marriage and
burial--but left much liberty to the minister in the matter of his
sermons. This Directory was, by an ordinance of both Houses, ordered to
be observed both in England and Scotland.

Poor old Archbishop Laud, who was still in prison, was in the turmoil
of civil war almost totally forgotten. But the Puritans of England and
the people of Scotland needed only a slight reminder to demand the
punishment of the man who, with so high a hand, had trodden down their
liberties and their religion. This was given them by the Lords, who,
insisting on appointing ministers to livings in his gift, called on
Laud to collate the vacant benefices to such persons as they should
nominate. The king forbade him to obey. At length, in February, 1643,
the rectory of Chartham, in Kent, became vacant by the death of the
incumbent, the Lords nominated one person, the king another, and Laud,
placed in a dilemma dangerous to his life under his circumstances,
endeavoured to excuse himself by remaining passive. But the Lords,
in the month of April, sent him a peremptory order, and on his still
delaying, sent a request to the Commons to proceed with his trial.
There were fourteen articles of impeachment already hanging over his
head, and the Commons appointed Prynne, still smarting under the
ear-lopping, branding, and cruelties of the archbishop, to collect
evidence and co-operate with a Committee on the subject.

What an apparition must that earless man, with those livid brand marks
on his cheeks, have been as he entered the cell of Laud, and told him
that the day of retribution was come! Prynne collected all his papers,
even the diary which he had been so long employed in writing, as the
defence of his past life, and sought everywhere for remaining victims
and witnesses of the archbishop's persecutions and cruelties, to bring
them up against him. In six months the Committee had obtained evidence
enough to furnish ten new articles of impeachment against him, and on
the 4th of March, 1644, more than three years after his commitment,
Laud was called upon to take his trial. He demanded time to consult his
papers, and to have them for that purpose restored, to have counsel,
and money out of the proceeds of his estate to pay his fees and other
expenses. He was not likely to find much more tenderness from his
enemies than he had showed to them; the Scots demanded stern justice
upon him, as the greatest enemy which their country had known for
ages. Time was given him till the 12th of March, when he was brought
to the bar of the House of Lords. There, after the once haughty but
now humbled priest had been made to kneel a little, Mr. Serjeant Wild
opened the case against him, and went over, at great length, the whole
story of his endeavours to introduce absolutism in Church and State
in England, Scotland, and Ireland, and the dreadful cruelties and
oppressions which he had inflicted on the king's subjects in the Star
Chamber and High Commission Courts.

When he had done, Laud defended himself from a written paper,
contending that though he had leaned towards the law, he had never
intended to overthrow the laws, and that he had in the Church laboured
only for the support of the external form of worship, which had been
neglected. But the hearers had not forgotten the "Thorough," nor the
utter suppression of all forms of religion but his own, the sweeping
away utterly of the faith of Scotland, and the substitution of
Arminianism and the liturgy.

It was not till the 2nd of September that Laud was called to the bar of
the Lords to deliver his recapitulation of the arguments in answer to
his charges. Mr. Samuel Brown, a member of the Commons, and a Manager
of the trial, replied to them. Laud was then allowed counsel to speak
to the parts of law, who took the same course of defence as had been
taken in the case of Strafford, declaring that the prisoner's offence
did not amount to high treason, and the Commons then adopted their plan
in Strafford's case, of proceeding by attainder. He was, therefore,
on the 2nd of November, brought to the bar of their own House, where
Mr. Brown repeated the sum of the evidence produced in the Lords, and
Laud was called on to reply himself to the charges. He demanded time to
prepare his answer, and obtained eight days. On the 11th of November
he was heard, and Brown in reply; and the Commons the same day passed
their Bill of Attainder, finding him fully convicted of the offences
charged against him. On the 16th they sent up this Bill to the Lords;
but it was not till the 4th of January, 1645, that the Lords also
passed the Bill, and soon after fixed the day of his execution for the
10th. The last effort to save the old man's life was by the production
of a pardon which had been prepared at Oxford, as soon as the danger of
his conviction was seen, and was signed and sealed by the king. This
pardon was read in both Houses, but was declared of no effect, the
king having no power to pardon a crime adjudged by Parliament. On the
appointed day, the archbishop was beheaded on Tower Hill. Meanwhile
some useless negotiations had been set on foot by the Presbyterian
party at Uxbridge.

Charles had, during the last summer, after every temporary success,
proposed negotiations, thus showing his readiness to listen to
accommodation, and throwing on the Parliament the odium of continued
warfare. At the same time it must be confessed that he was by no
means inclined to accept terms which would surrender altogether his
prerogative, or sacrifice the interests of those who had ventured
everything for him. He was constantly exhorted by the queen from France
to make no peace inconsistent with his honour, or the interests of
his followers. She contended that he must stipulate for a bodyguard,
without which he could enjoy no safety, and should keep all treaty
regarding religion to the last, seeing plainly the almost insuperable
difficulty on that head; for since nothing would satisfy the Puritans
but the close binding down of the Catholics, that would effectually
cut off all hope of his support from Ireland, or from the Catholics of
England. Charles, in fact, was in a cleft stick, and the contentions of
his courtiers added so much to his embarrassments, that he got rid of
the most troublesome by sending them to attend the queen in France. He
then assembled his Parliament for the second time, but it was so thinly
attended, and the miserable distractions which rent his Court were so
completely imported into its debates, that he was the more disposed
to accept the offer of negotiation with the Parliament. His third
proposal, happening to be favoured by the recommendation of the Scots,
was at length acceded to by Parliament, but the terms recommended by
the Scots--the recognition of Presbytery as the national religion, and
the demands of the Parliament of the supreme control not only of the
revenue but of the army--rendered negotiations from the first hopeless.

In November, 1644, the propositions of the Scots, drawn up by Johnston
of Wariston, were sent to the king by a Commission consisting
of the Earl of Denbigh, the Lords Maynard and Wenman, and Mr.
Pierpoint, Denzil Holles, and Whitelock, accompanied by the Scottish
Commissioners--Lord Maitland, Sir Charles Erskine, and Mr. Barclay.

[Illustration: INTERVIEW BETWEEN CHARLES AND THE EARL OF DENBIGH. (_See
p._ 36.)]

Charles probably received a private copy of the propositions, for he
received the Commissioners most ungraciously. They were suffered to
remain outside the gates of Oxford in a cold and wet day for several
hours, and then conducted by a guard, more like prisoners than
ambassadors, to a very mean inn. On the propositions being read by
the Earl of Denbigh, Charles asked him if they had power to treat,
to which the earl replied in the negative, saying that they were
commissioned to receive his majesty's answer. "Then," said Charles,
rudely, "a letter-carrier might have done as much as you." The earl,
resenting this, said, "I suppose your majesty looks upon us as persons
of another condition than letter-carriers." "I know your condition,"
retorted the king, "but I repeat it, that your condition gives you
no more power than a letter-carrier." Whilst Denbigh had read over
the list of persons who were to be excepted from the conditions of
the treaty, Rupert and Maurice, who were of the excepted, and were
present, laughed in the earl's face. This insolence displeased even the
king, and he bade them be quiet. The interview terminated, however, as
unfavourably as it began. The king gave them a reply but sealed up, and
not addressed to the Parliament or anybody. The commissioners refused
to carry an answer of which they did not know the particulars, on which
Charles insolently remarked, "What is that to you, who are but to carry
what I send; and if I choose to send the song of Robin Hood or Little
John, you must carry it?" As they could get nothing else, not even an
address upon it to Parliament, the commissioners, wisely leaving it to
Parliament to treat the insult as they deemed best, took their leave
with it.

When this document was presented to both Houses on the 29th of
November, 1644, assembled for the purpose, it was strongly urged by
many to refuse it; but this was overruled by those who wisely would
throw no obstacle in the way of negotiation; and the king thought well
immediately to send the Duke of Richmond and the Earl of Southampton
with a fuller answer. They, on their part, found a safe-conduct refused
them by Essex, then the commander, unless he were acknowledged by the
king as general of the army of the Parliament of England, and the
Commons informed them that they would receive no further Commission
which was not addressed to the Parliament of England assembled at
Westminster, and the Commissioners of the Parliament of Scotland.
With this the king was compelled to comply; but at the same time he
wrote to the queen--"As to my calling those at London a Parliament, if
there had been two besides myself of my opinion, I had not done it;
and the argument that prevailed with me was that _the calling did no
wise acknowledge them to be a Parliament_, upon which construction and
condition I did it, and no otherwise."

[Illustration: ROUNDHEAD SOLDIERS.]

Under these unpromising circumstances, Commissioners on both sides were
at length appointed, who met on the 29th of January, in the little
town of Uxbridge. Uxbridge was within the Parliamentary lines, and the
time granted for the sitting was twenty days. The Commissioners on the
part of the king were the Duke of Richmond, the Marquis of Hertford,
the Earls of Southampton, Chichester, and Kingston, the Lords Capel,
Seymour, Hatton, and Colepepper, Secretary Nicholas, Sir Edward Hyde,
Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir Edward Lane, Sir Orlando Bridgeman,
Sir Thomas Gardener, Mr. Ashburnham, Mr. Palmer, and Dr. Stewart. On
that of the Parliament appeared the Earls of Northumberland, Pembroke,
Salisbury, and Denbigh, Lord Wenman, Sir Henry Vane the younger,
Denzil Holles, Pierpont, St. John, Whitelock, Crew, and Prideaux. The
Scottish Commissioners were the Earl of Loudon, the Marquis of Argyll,
the Lords Maitland and Balmerino, Sir Archibald Johnston, Sir Charles
Erskine, Sir John Smith, Dundas, Kennedy, Robert Barclay, and Alexander
Henderson. John Thurloe, afterwards Oliver Cromwell's secretary,
and the friend of Milton, was secretary for the English Parliament,
assisted by Mr. Earle, and Mr. Cheesly was secretary for the Scottish
Commissioners.

The four propositions submitted to the king by the Parliament
concerning religion were, that the Common Prayer Book should be
withdrawn, the Directory of the Westminster divines substituted, that
he should confirm the assemblies and synods of the Church, and take the
Solemn League and Covenant. These, contrary to the warning of Queen
Henrietta, were brought on first, and argued with much learning and
pertinacity, and as little concession on either side, for four days.
Then there arose other equally formidable subjects, the command of the
army and navy, the cessation of the war in Ireland; and the twenty
days being expired, it was proposed to prolong the term, but this
was refused by the two Houses of Parliament, and the Commissioners,
separated, mutually satisfied that nothing but the sword would settle
these questions. The Royalists had not been long in discovering that
Vane, St. John, and Prideaux had come to the conference, not so much
to treat, as to watch the proceedings of the Presbyterian deputies,
and to take care that no concessions should be made inimical to the
independence of the Church.

Gloomy as to the general eye must have appeared the prospects of the
king at this period, he was still buoyed up by various hopes. He
had been using every exertion to obtain aid from the Continent, and
at length was promised an army of ten thousand men by the Duke of
Lorraine, and Goffe was sent into Holland to prepare for their being
shipped over. On the other hand, he had made up his mind to concede
most of their demands to the Irish Catholics, on condition of receiving
speedily an army thence. He wrote to Ormond, telling him that he had
clearly discovered, by the treaty of Uxbridge, that the rebels were
aiming at nothing less than the total subversion of the Crown and
the Church; that they had made the Earl of Leven commander of all
the English as well as Scottish forces in Ireland, and therefore he
could no longer delay the settlement of Ireland in his favour, through
scruples that at another time would have clung to him. He therefore
authorised him to grant the suspension of Poynings' Act, and to remove
all the penal acts against the Catholics on condition that they at once
gave him substantial aid against the rebels of Scotland and Ireland. At
this moment, too, the news of the successes of Montrose in Scotland
added to his confidence.

The two armies in England now prepared to try their strength. Charles,
lying at Oxford, had a considerable number of troops: the west of
England was almost entirely in his interest, north and south Wales
were wholly his, excepting the castles of Pembroke and Montgomery. He
had still Scarborough, Carlisle, and Pontefract; but his army, though
experienced in the field, was not well disciplined. The Parliamentary
army, now new-modelled, presented a very different spectacle to that
of the king. The strictest discipline was introduced, and the men
were called upon to observe the duties of religion. The officers had
been selected from those who had served under Essex, Manchester, and
the other lords; but having cleared the command of the aristocratic
element, a new spirit of activity and zeal was infused into it. The
king's officers ridiculed the new force, which had no leaders of great
name except Sir Thomas Fairfax, and was brought together in so new a
shape, that it appeared a congregation of raw soldiers. The ridicule
of the Cavaliers even infected the adherents of the Commonwealth,
and there was great scepticism as to the result of such a change.
May, the Parliamentary historian, says, never did an army go forth
who had less the confidence of their friends, or more the contempt
of their enemies. But both parties were extremely deceived. Cromwell
was now the real soul of the movement, and the religious enthusiasm
which glowed in him was diffused through the whole army. The whole
system seemed a revival of that of the pious Gustavus Adolphus--no
man suffered a day to go over without religious service, and never
commenced a battle without prayer. The soldiers now employed their time
in zealous military exercises and in equally zealous prayer and singing
of psalms. They sang in their march, they advanced into battle with a
psalm. The letters of Cromwell to the Parliament, giving an account of
the proceedings of the army, are full of this religious spirit, which
it has been the custom to treat as cant, but which was the genuine
expression of his feelings, and was shown by effects such as cant and
sham never produce. Victory, which he and his soldiers ascribed only to
God, success the most rapid and wonderful, attended him.

It is remarkable that the very man who had introduced the Self-denying
Ordinance was the only man who was never debarred by it from
pursuing his military career. This has, therefore, been treated as an
artifice on his part; but, on the contrary, it was the mere result
of circumstances. Cromwell was the great military genius of the age.
Every day the success of his plans and actions was bursting more and
more on the public notice, and no one was more impressed by the value
of his services than the new Commander-in-Chief, Sir Thomas Fairfax.
He had sent Cromwell, Massey, and Waller into the West, before laying
down their commissions, to attack Colonel Goring, who was threatening
the Parliamentary lines. They had driven him back towards Wells and
Glastonbury, and not deeming it safe to push farther with their small
force into a quarter where the Royal interest was so strong, and
Cromwell advising Parliament to send more troops to Salisbury to defend
that point against Rupert, who was reported at Trowbridge, he had
returned to Windsor to resign his command according to the Ordinance.
There, however, he found the Parliament had suspended the Ordinance in
his instance for forty days, in order that he might execute a service
of especial consequence, and which it particularly wished him to
undertake. This was to attack a body of two thousand men conveying the
king's artillery from Oxford to Worcester, to which place Rupert had
marched, having defeated Colonel Massey at Ledbury.

This was on the 22nd of April, and Cromwell took horse the next
morning, dashed rapidly into Oxfordshire and at Islip Bridge routed
the enemy, consisting of four regiments of cavalry, took many of their
officers, and especially those of the queen's regiment, seizing the
standard which she had presented to it with her own hands. Many of
the fugitives got into Bletchington House, which Cromwell immediately
assaulted and took. The king was so enraged at the surrender of
Bletchington, that he ordered the commander, Colonel Windebank, to
be shot, and no prayers or entreaties could save him. Cromwell next
sent off his cannon and stores to Abingdon, and pushed on to Radcot
Bridge, or Bampton-in-the-Bush, where others of the enemy had fled:
here he defeated them, and took their leaders Vaughan and Littleton.
Cromwell next summoned Colonel Burgess, the governor of the garrison at
Faringdon, to surrender; but he was called away to join the main army,
the king being on the move.

Charles, in fact, issued from Oxford, and, joined by both Rupert
and Maurice, advanced to relieve Chester, then besieged by Sir
William Brereton. Fairfax, instead of pursuing him, thought it a good
opportunity to take Oxford and prevent his returning there; but the
king's movements alarmed him for the safety of the eastern counties, to
which he had despatched Cromwell to raise fresh forces and strengthen
their defences. Cromwell was recalled, and Fairfax set out in pursuit
of the king. Charles relieved Chester by the very news of his march.
Brereton retired from before it, and the Scottish army, which was
advancing southward, fell back into Westmoreland and Cumberland, to
prevent a rumoured junction of the king and the army of Montrose.
Whatever had been Charles's intentions in this movement, he wheeled
aside and directed his way through Staffordshire into Leicestershire,
and took Leicester by assault. From Leicester he extended his course
eastward, and took up his headquarters at Daventry, where he amused
himself with hunting, and Rupert and his horse with foraging and
plundering the whole country round.

Fairfax, now apprehensive of the royal intentions being directed to
the eastern counties, which had hitherto been protected from the
visitations of his army, pushed forward to prevent this, and came in
contact with the king's outposts on the 13th of June, near Borough
Hill. Charles fired his huts, and began his march towards Harborough,
intending, perhaps, to proceed to the relief of Pontefract and
Scarborough; but Fairfax did not allow him to get far ahead. A council
of war was called, and in the midst of it Cromwell rode into the lines
at the head of six hundred horse. It was now determined to bring the
king to action. Harrison and Ireton, officers of Cromwell--soon to be
well known--led the way after the royal army, and Fairfax, with his
whole body, was at once in full chase. The king was in Harborough, and
a council being called, it was considered safer to turn and fight than
to pursue their way to Leicester like an army flying from the foe. It
was therefore resolved to wheel about and meet the enemy.

At five o'clock the next morning, the 14th of June, the advanced
guards of each army approached each other on the low hills a little
more than a mile from the village of Naseby, in Northamptonshire,
nearly midway between Market Harborough and Daventry. The Parliament
army ranged itself on a hill yet called the Mill Hill, and the king's
on a parallel hill, with its back to Harborough. The right wing was
led by Cromwell, consisting of six regiments of horse, and the left,
consisting of nearly as many, was, at his request, committed to his
friend, Colonel Ireton, a Nottinghamshire man. Fairfax and Skippon took
charge of the main body, and Colonels Pride, Rainsborough, and Hammond
brought up the reserves. Rupert and his brother Maurice led on the
right wing of Charles's army, Sir Marmaduke Langdale the left, Charles
himself the main body, and Sir Jacob Astley, the Earl of Lindsay, the
Lord Baird, and Sir George Lisle the reserves. The word for the day of
the Royalists was, "God and Queen Mary!" that of the Parliamentarians,
"God our strength!" A wide moorland, called Broad Moor, lay between
them. The Cavaliers made themselves very merry at the new-modelled
army of Roundheads, for which they had the utmost contempt, having
nothing aristocratic about it, and its head being farmer Cromwell, or
the brewer of Huntingdon, as they pleased to call him. They expected
to sweep them away like dust, and Rupert, making one of his headlong
charges, seemed to realise their anticipations, for he drove the
left wing of the Roundheads into instant confusion and flight, took
Ireton prisoner, his horse being killed under him, and himself wounded
severely in two places; and, in his regular way, Rupert galloped after
the fugitives, thinking no more of the main battle. But the scattered
horse, who had been diligently taught to rally, collected behind him,
returned to the defence of their guns, and were soon again ready for
action. On the other hand, Cromwell had driven the left wing of the
king's army off the field, but took care not to pursue them too far.
He sent a few companies of horse to drive them beyond the battle, and
with his main body he fell on the king's flank, where at first the
royal foot was gaining the advantage. This unexpected assault threw
them into confusion, and the soldiers of Fairfax's front, which had
given way, rallying and falling in again with the reserves as they
came to the rear, were brought up by their officers, and completed the
rout. Rupert, who was now returning from the chase, rode up to the
waggon-train of the Parliamentary army, and, ignorant of the state of
affairs, offered quarter to the troops guarding the stores. The reply
was a smart volley of musketry, and falling back and riding forward
to the field, he found an overwhelming defeat. His followers stood
stupefied at the sight, when Charles, riding up to them in despair,
cried frantically, "One charge more, and the victory is ours yet!"
But it was in vain, the main body was broken, that of Fairfax was
complete; the artillery was seized, and the Roundheads were taking
prisoners as fast as they could promise them quarter. Fairfax and
Cromwell the next moment charged the dumfoundered horse, and the whole
fled at full gallop on the road towards Leicester, pursued almost to
the gates of the town by Cromwell's troopers.

The slaughter at this battle was not so great as might have been
expected. But though the loss on the Parliamentarian side was small,
amounting to about two hundred men, the Royalists had one thousand
killed. Five thousand prisoners were taken, including a great number
of officers, and a considerable number of ladies in carriages. All
the king's baggage and artillery, with nine thousand stand of arms,
were taken, and amongst the carriages that of the king containing
his private papers: a fatal loss, for it contained the most damning
evidences of the king's double-dealing and mental reservations, which
the Parliament took care to publish, to Charles's irreparable damage.
Clarendon accuses the Roundheads of killing above a hundred women, many
of them of quality, but other evidence proves that this was false, the
only women who were rudely treated being a number of wild Irish ones,
who were armed with skeans--knives a foot long--and who used them like
so many maniacs.

The next day Fairfax sent Colonel Fiennes and his regiment to London
with the prisoners and the colours taken, above a hundred of them,
and he prayed that a day of thanksgiving might be appointed for the
victory. But the most essential fruit of the victory was the reading
in Parliament of the king's letters. In these the affair of the Duke
of Lorraine came to light--the attempt to bring in the Lorrainers, the
French, the Danes, and the Irish to put down the Parliament, whilst
Charles had been making the most sacred protestations to that body
that he abhorred bringing in foreign soldiers. There appeared his
promise to give the Catholics full liberty of conscience, whilst he had
been vowing constantly that he would never abrogate the laws against
Popery; and his letter to his wife, showing that at the treaty of
Uxbridge he was merely conceding the name of a Parliament, with a full
determination, on the first opportunity, to declare it no Parliament
at all. These exposures were so dreadful, and gave such an assurance
that the king was restrained by no moral principle, that the Royalists
would not believe the documents genuine till they had examined them
for themselves; and for this examination the Parliament wisely gave
the amplest facilities. There were copies of his letters to the queen,
in which he complained of the quarrels and harassing jealousies of his
own courtiers and supporters, and of his getting rid of as many as he
could by sending them on one pretence or another to her. The sight of
these things struck his own party dumb with a sense of his hollowness
and ingratitude; and the battle of Naseby itself was declared far less
fatal to his interests than the contents of his cabinet. From this
moment his ruin was certain, and the remainder of the campaign was only
the last feeble struggles of the expiring Cause. His adherents stood
out rather for their own chance of making terms than from any possible
hope of success.

[Illustration: CHARLES AT THE BATTLE OF NASEBY. (_See p._ 40.)]

The defeated and dishonoured king did not stop to pass a single night
at Leicester, but rode on to Ashby that evening, and after a few
hours' rest pursued his course towards Hereford. At Hereford Rupert,
fearful of the Parliamentary army attacking their only remaining strong
quarter, the West, left the king and hastened to Bristol to put it into
a state of defence. Charles himself continued his march into Wales,
and took up his headquarters at Raglan Castle, the seat of the Marquis
of Worcester. There, pretty sure that Fairfax was intending to go
westward, he spent the time as though nothing had been amiss, hunting
like his father, when he should have been studying the retrieval of
his affairs, and passing the evenings in entertainments and giving of
audiences. The most probable cause of Charles thus spending his time
there and at Cardiff, to which he next retired, is that he had been
urging the despatch of an Irish army, and was expecting it there.
At the same time he could there more easily communicate with Rupert
regarding the defence of the west of England.

The Parliament forces under Cromwell marched on Bristol where Rupert
lay, whilst Fairfax met and defeated Goring at Langport, and then
besieged and took Bridgewater on the 23rd of July. Matters now
appeared so threatening that Rupert proposed to Charles to sue for
peace; but the king rejected the advice with warmth, declaring that,
though as soldier and statesman he saw nothing but ruin before him,
yet as a Christian he was sure God would not prosper rebels, and that
nothing should induce him to give up the Cause. He avowed that whoever
stayed by him must do so at the cost of his life, or of being made
as miserable as the violence of insulting rebels could make him. But
by the grace of God he would not alter, and bade Rupert not on any
consideration "to hearken after treaties." He would take no less than
he had asked for at Uxbridge.

Charles, blind to the last, was still hoping for assistance from
Ireland, and was elated by the news of successes from Montrose.

It will be recollected that the Earls of Antrim and Montrose had been
engaged by Charles to exert themselves in Ireland and Scotland on his
behalf. Their first attempt was to take vengeance on the Covenanting
Earl of Argyll, who had so much contributed to defeat the king's
attempts on the Scottish Church and Government. Montrose, therefore,
unfurled the royal standard as the king's lieutenant-general at
Dumfries; but having before been a strong Covenanter, he did not all at
once win the confidence of the Royalists. His success was so poor that
he returned to England. At Carlisle he was more effective in serving
the king, and was made a marquis in consequence. After the battle of
Marston Moor he again returned into the Highlands, and there learned
the success of Antrim's labours in Ireland. He had sent over a body of
fifteen hundred men under the command of his kinsman Alaster Macdonald,
surnamed MacColl Keitache, or Colkitto. They landed at Knoidart, but
a fleet of the Duke of Argyll's burnt their ships, and hung in their
rear waiting a fitting chance to destroy them. To their surprise
they received no welcome from the Scottish Royalists. However, they
continued their march to Badenoch, ravaging the houses and farms of
the Covenanters, but every day menaced by the gathering hosts of their
foes, and learning nothing of their ally Montrose. At last Montrose
obtained tidings of them: they met at Blair Athol, in the beginning of
August, 1644. Montrose assumed the command, and published the royal
commission. At the sight of a native chief the Highlanders flocked to
his standard, and the Covenanters saw to their astonishment an army
of between three and four thousand men spring at once, as it were,
out of the ground. Montrose wrote to Charles that if he could receive
five hundred horse on his way, he would soon be in England with twenty
thousand men.

The movements and exploits of Montrose now became rather a story of
romance than of sober modern warfare. Argyll and Lord Elcho dogged his
steps, but he advanced or disappeared, with his half-clad Irish and
wild mountaineers, amongst the hills in a manner that defied arrest.
At Tippermuir, in Perthshire, he defeated Elcho, took his guns and
ammunition, and surprised and plundered the town of Perth. As was
constantly the case, the Highlanders, once loaded with booty, slipped
off to their homes; and, left alone with his Irish band, who were
faithful because their way home was cut off, he retreated northward,
in hope of joining the clan Gordon. Montrose found himself stopped
at the Bridge of Dee by two thousand seven hundred Covenanters under
Lord Balfour of Burleigh, but he managed to cross at a ford higher
up, and, falling on their rear, threw them into a panic. They fled to
Aberdeen, pursued by the Irish and Highlanders, and the whole mass of
pursuers and pursued rushed wildly into the city together. The place
was given up to plunder, and for three days Aberdeen became a scene of
horror and revolting licence, as it had been from an attack of Montrose
four years before, when fighting on the other side. The approach of
Argyll compelled the pillagers to fly into Banffshire, and, following
the banks of the Spey, he crossed the hills of Badenoch, and, after
a series of wild adventures in Athol, Angus, and Forfar, he was met
by the Covenanters at Fyvie Castle, and compelled to retreat into the
mountains. His followers then took their leave of him, worn out with
their rapid flights and incessant skirmishes, and he announced his
intention of withdrawing for the winter into Badenoch.

The Earl of Argyll, on his part, retired to Inverary and sent his
followers home. He felt secure in the mighty barrier of mountains
around, which in summer offered a terrible route to an army, but which,
now blockaded with snow, he deemed impregnable. But he was deceived;
the retirement of Montrose was a feint. He was busily employed in
rousing the northern clans to a sweeping vengeance on Argyll, and the
prospect of a rich booty. In the middle of December he burst through
all obstacles, threaded the snow-laden defiles of the mountains, and
descended with fire and sword into the plains of Argyleshire. The earl
was suddenly roused by the people from the hills, whose dwellings
were in flames behind them, and only effected his escape by pushing
across Loch Fyne in an open boat. Montrose divided his host into three
columns, which spread themselves over the whole of Argyleshire, burning
and laying everything waste. Argyll had set a price upon Montrose's
head; and Montrose now reduced his splendid heritage to a black and
frightful desert. The villages and cottages were burnt down, the cattle
destroyed or driven off, and the people slain wherever found with arms
in their hands. This miserable and melancholy state of things lasted
from the 13th of December to the end of January, 1645.

Argyll by that time had mustered the Clan Campbell, and Lord Seaforth
the mountaineers of Moray, Ross, Sutherland, and Caithness, to bear
down on the invaders. Montrose, therefore, led forth his Highlanders
and Irish to encounter them, and came first on Argyll and his army at
Inverlochy Castle, in Lochaber. There he totally defeated Argyll, and
slew nearly fifteen hundred of his people. This success brought to
his standard the clan Gordon and others. The whole north was in their
power, and they marched from Inverlochy to Elgin and Aberdeen. At
Brechin they were met by Baillie with a strong force, which protected
Perth; but Montrose marched to Dunkeld, and thence to Dundee, which
he entered, and began plundering, when Baillie arrived with his
Covenanters and caused him to retire. Once more he escaped to the
mountains, but this time not without severe losses, for his indignant
foes pursued him for threescore miles, cutting off many of his
soldiers, besides those that had perished in the storming of Dundee.
When he appeared again it was at Auldearn, a village near Nairn, where,
on the 9th of May, he defeated the Covenanters (under John Urry or
Hurry) after a bloody battle, two thousand men being said to be left
upon the field.

The General Assembly addressed a sharp remonstrance to the king,
which was delivered to him soon after the battle of Naseby, but it
produced no effect. In fact, it was more calculated to inflame a man of
Charles's obstinate temper, for it recapitulated all his crimes against
Scotland, from his first forcing the Common Prayer upon them till
then, and called on him to fall down at the footstool of the Almighty
and acknowledge his sins, and no longer steep his kingdom in blood.
They did not merely remonstrate; the Covenanters continued to fight.
But, unfortunately, their commanders having divided their forces, as
Urry was defeated at Auldearn, so Baillie was soon afterwards routed
at Alford, in Aberdeenshire, with such effect that scarcely any but
his principal officers and the cavalry escaped. Again the Covenanters
raised a fresh army of ten thousand men, and sent them against
Montrose; and the Scottish army, which lay on the borders of England
under the Earl of Leven, commenced their march southward, to attack the
king himself. On the 2nd of July, the very day on which Montrose won
the battle of Alford, they were at Melton Mowbray, whence they marched
through Tamworth and Birmingham into Worcestershire and Herefordshire.
On the 22nd they stormed Canon-Frome, a garrison of the king's between
Worcester and Hereford; and, as they were pressing on, Charles sent
Sir William Fleming to endeavour to seduce the old Earl of Leven and
the Earl of Callender from their faith to Parliament by magnificent
promises, but they sent his letters to the Parliament and marched on
and laid siege to Hereford.

Charles, thus pressed by the Scottish army, quitted Cardiff and made
a grand effort to reach the borders of Scotland to effect a junction
with Montrose. He flattered himself that could he unite his forces with
those of Montrose, by the genius of that brilliant leader his losses
would be retrieved, and that he should bear down all before him. But
he was not destined to accomplish this object. He at first approached
Hereford, as if he designed the attempt of raising the siege; but this
was too hazardous, and, dismissing his foot, he dashed forward with
his cavalry to cut his way to the North. But the Earl of Leven sent
after him Sir David Leslie, with nearly the whole body of the Scottish
cavalry; and from the North, the Parliamentarian commanders, Poyntz
and Rossiter, put themselves in motion to meet him. He had made a
rapid march through Warwickshire and Northamptonshire to Doncaster,
when these counter-movements of the enemy convinced him that to reach
the Border was hopeless; and he made a sudden divergence south-east,
to inflict a flying chastisement on those counties of the Eastern
Association, which had so long kept him at bay, and sent out against
him the invincible Cromwell and his Ironsides. These were now engaged
in the West, and he swept through Cambridgeshire and Huntingdonshire,
ravaging and plundering without stint or remorse. On the 24th of August
he took Huntingdon itself by assault; he did not delay, however, but
continued his marauding course through Woburn and Dunstable, thence
into Buckinghamshire, and so to Oxford, where he arrived on the 28th.
In this flying expedition, Charles and his soldiers had collected much
booty from his subjects, and especially from the town of Huntingdon,
no doubt with much satisfaction, from its being Cromwell's place of
residence.

At Oxford Charles received the cheering news that Montrose had
achieved another brilliant victory over the Covenanters. He had, on
again issuing from the mountains, menaced Perth, where the Scottish
Parliament was sitting, and then descended into the Lowlands. It was
evident that he was acting in concert with the king, who at that very
time was making his hurried march for the Border. Montrose crossed the
Forth near Stirling, where at Kilsyth he was met by Baillie and his
new army. The Committee of Estates insisted on Baillie giving battle.
Fasting and prayer for four days had been held, and they were confident
of success. But at the first charge the cavalry of the Covenanters were
scattered, the infantry fled almost without a blow, and such was the
fury of the pursuit, that five thousand of them were slain (August 15,
1645). This victory opened all the Lowlands to the Royalists. Argyll
and the principal nobles escaped by sea to England. Glasgow opened
its gates to the conqueror, and the magistrates of Edinburgh hastened
to implore his clemency towards the city, and to propitiate him by
liberating all the Royalist prisoners, promising obedience to the king.
Most of these liberated prisoners, and many of the nobility, joined the
standard of Montrose.

Had the king been able to effect a junction with him at this moment,
the result must have been important, but it could only have occasioned
more bloodshed, without insuring any decided victory, for all England
was by this time in the hands of the Parliament. Sir David Leslie,
instead of following the king with his cavalry southward again, had
continued his march northward, to prevent any inroad on the part of
Montrose, and the Earl of Leven, quitting Hereford, advanced northward
to support him. Charles immediately left Oxford, and advanced to
Hereford, where he was received in triumph. Thence he set out to
relieve Rupert, who was besieged by Fairfax and Cromwell in Bristol;
but on reaching Raglan Castle, he heard the appalling news that it had
surrendered. The prince had promised to hold it for four months, yet he
surrendered it in the third week of the siege. Fairfax having decided
to storm it on the 10th of September, 1645, this was done accordingly.
It was assaulted by the troops under Colonel Welden, Commissary-general
Ireton, Cromwell, Fairfax, General Skippon, Colonels Montague, Hammond,
Rich, and Rainsborough, from different sides at the same time. The
town was set on fire in three places by the Royalists themselves, and
Rupert, foreseeing the total destruction of the city, capitulated. He
was allowed to march out, and was furnished with a convoy of cavalry,
and the loan of one thousand muskets to protect them from the people on
the way to Oxford, for he had made himself so detested by his continual
ravagings of the inhabitants that they would have knocked him and his
men on the head. Even as he passed out of the city the people crowded
round with fierce looks, and muttered, "Why not hang him?"

[Illustration: CAVALIER SOLDIERS.]

We have Cromwell's account of the taking of the place. He says that the
royal fort was victualled for three hundred and twenty days, and the
castle for nearly half as long, and that there were abundant stores
of ammunition, with one hundred and forty cannon mounted, between two
and three thousand muskets, and a force of nearly six thousand men in
foot, horse, train-bands, and auxiliaries. Well might Charles feel
confounded at the surrender. He was so exasperated that he overwhelmed
Rupert with reproaches: he even accused him of cowardice or treason,
revoked his commission, and bade him quit the kingdom. He ordered
the Council to take him into custody if he showed any contumacy. He
arrested Rupert's friend, Colonel Legge, and gave the prince's office
of Governor of Oxford to Sir Thomas Glenham. And yet Rupert appears
to have only yielded to necessity. He was more famous at the head of
a charge of horse than for defending cities. Bristol was carried by
storm by a combination of the best troops and the most able commanders
of the Parliament army, and was already burning in three places.
Further resistance could only have led to indiscriminate massacre.
But allowance must be made for the irritation of Charles. The fall of
Bristol was a most disheartening event, and it was followed by news
still more prostrating.

The success of Montrose had proved the ruin of his army. A Highland
force is like a Highland torrent; under its clan chiefs it is impetuous
and overwhelming; but it is soon exhausted. The soldiers, gathered only
for the campaign, no sooner collected a good booty than they walked
off back to their mountains, and thus no Highland force, under the old
clan system, ever effected any lasting advantage, especially in the
Lowlands. So it was here; Montrose's descent from the hills resembled
the torrent, and disappeared without any traces but those of ravage. He
had secured no fortified places, nor obtained any permanent possession.
He executed a few incendiaries, as they were called, at Glasgow, and
then advanced towards the Border, still in hope of meeting the royal
forces. But the Gordon clan had disappeared; Colkitto had led back
the other Highlanders to their mountains, and Montrose found himself
at the head of only about six hundred men, chiefly the remains of the
Irish. Meanwhile, Sir David Leslie, with his four thousand cavalry, was
steadily advancing towards the Forth, to put himself between Montrose
and the Highlands, and then suddenly wheeling westward, he returned on
the unwary marquis, and surprised the commander who had before been
accustomed to surprise every one else.

Montrose was in Selkirk busy writing despatches to the king, and
his little army was posted at Philiphaugh. Leslie had approached
cautiously, and, favoured by the unvigilant carelessness of the
Royalists, came one night into their close vicinity. Early in the
morning, under cover of a thick fog, he crossed the Ettrick, and
appeared to their astonishment in the encampment on the Haugh.
Notwithstanding their surprise, the soldiers formed hastily into a
compact body; and Montrose, being informed of the danger, flew to the
rescue at the head of a body of horse; but the odds were too great,
the troops were surrounded and cut to pieces. In vain they begged
quarter. Sir David consented, but the ministers raised a fierce shout
of indignation, denounced the sparing of a single "malignant" as a sin,
and the whole body was massacred (September 13, 1645).

Before receiving this disastrous news, Charles resolved to make another
effort to form a junction with Montrose. He retraced his steps through
Wales, and advanced to the relief of Chester, which was invested by
the Parliamentarians. He reached that place on the 22nd of September,
and posted the bulk of his cavalry on Rowton Heath, near the city,
under Sir Marmaduke Langdale, himself being able to get into the city
with a small body of troopers. But the next morning his cavalry at
Rowton Heath was attacked by Poyntz, the Parliamentary general, who
had been carefully following on the king's heels, and now, having his
little army penned between his troops and those of the Parliamentary
besiegers, a simultaneous attack was made on the Royalists from both
sides. More than six hundred of Charles's troopers were cut to pieces,
one thousand more obtained quarter, and the rest were dispersed on
all sides. The king escaped out of the city and fled to Denbigh with
the remnant of his cavalry. By this blow the only port which had been
left open for his expected succours from Ireland was closed. Still
the news of Montrose's defeat at Philiphaugh had not reached him,
and Lord Digby advised the king to allow him to make the attempt to
reach him with the seventeen hundred cavalry still remaining. Charles
accepted the offer, but before Digby left, it was agreed that the
king should get into his castle of Newark, as the securest place for
him to abide the result. Having seen his majesty safely there, Digby
set out northward. At Doncaster he defeated a Parliamentary force,
but was a few days after defeated himself by another at Sherburn.
Notwithstanding this, with the remainder of his horse he pushed
forward, entered Scotland, and reached Dumfries, but finding Montrose
already defeated, he returned to the Border, and at Carlisle disbanded
the troop. Sir Marmaduke Langdale and the officers retired to the
Isle of Man, the men got home as they could, and Digby passed over to
Ireland, to the Marquis of Ormond. But the greatest loss which Digby
had made during this expedition was that of his portfolio with his
baggage, at Sherburn. In this, as in the king's at Naseby, the most
unfortunate discoveries were made of his own proceedings, and of his
master's affairs. There was a revelation of plottings and agents in
sundry counties for bringing foreign forces to put down the Parliament.
Goffe was in Holland promoting a scheme for the marriage of the Prince
of Wales to the daughter of the Prince of Orange, and for forces to be
furnished in consequence. There were letters of the queen to Ireland,
arranging to bring over ten thousand men, and of Lord Jermyn--who was
living in Paris with the queen in such intimacy as to occasion much
scandal--to Digby himself, regarding probable assistance from the King
of Denmark, the Duke of Lorraine, and the Prince of Courland, and of
money from the Pope. But perhaps the most mischievous was a letter from
Digby, written a few days before, letting out how much the Marquis of
Ormond was secretly in the king's interest, though appearing to act
otherwise. These disclosures were precisely such as must wonderfully
strengthen the Parliament with the public, and sink the king still
lower.

The king's ruin was virtually complete. The enemy was pressing close
on his quarters, and at midnight, on the 3rd of November, he quitted
Newark with five hundred horse, and reached Belvoir, where the
governor, Sir Gervas Lucas, attended him with his troop till break of
day. Thence the king made a harassing and dangerous journey to Oxford,
pursued by detachments of the enemy as he passed Burleigh-on-the-Hill,
the garrison sallying and killing some of his attendants. In the
evening Charles was obliged to rest for five hours at Northampton, and
then push forward by Banbury, and so reached Oxford the next evening,
"finishing," says Clarendon, "the most tedious and grievous march
that our king was exercised in." In truth, never was king reduced to
such a melancholy and pitiable condition--a condition which cannot be
contemplated without commiseration, blind and incorrigible believer as
he was in the divine right of despotism.

Whilst Charles had been making these unhappy tours and detours, Fairfax
and Cromwell had been clearing away his garrisons, and driving back
his troops into the farthest West. Cromwell first addressed himself
by command of Parliament to reduce Winchester, Basing House, Langford
House, and Donnington Castle. On Sunday, September 28th, he appeared
before Winchester, which surrendered after a breach had been made; and,
on the 16th of October he also carried Basing by storm. Basing House
and Donnington had long annoyed Parliament and the country with their
royal garrisons, so that there was no travelling the Western road for
them. Basing House belonged to the Marquis of Winchester, and was one
of the most remarkable places in the country. Hugh Peters, who was sent
up by Cromwell to give an account of the taking of it to Parliament,
declaring that its circumvallation was above a mile in circumference.
It had stood many a siege, one of four years, without any one being
able to take it. Cromwell, however, now bombarded and stormed it,
taking prisoners the marquis, Sir Robert Peak, and other distinguished
officers. Eight or nine gentlewomen of rank ran out as the soldiers
burst in, and were treated with some unceremonious freedoms, but, says
Peters, "not uncivilly, considering the action in hand."

Having demolished Basing, Cromwell next summoned Langford House, near
Salisbury, and thence he was called in haste down into the West, where
Fairfax and he drove back Goring, Hopton, Astley, and others, beating
them at Langport, Torrington, and other places, storming Bridgewater,
and forcing them into Cornwall, where they never left them till they
had reduced them altogether in the spring of 1646.

Charles lying now at Oxford, his council, seeing that his army was
destroyed, except the portion that was cooped up by the victorious
generals in the West, and which every day was forced into less compass,
advised him strongly to treat with the Parliament, as his only chance.
They represented that they had no funds even for subsistence, except
what they seized from the country around, which exasperated the people,
and made them ready to rise against them. There were some circumstances
yet in his favour, and these were the jealousies and divisions of his
enemies. The Parliament and country were broken up into two great
factions of Presbyterians and Independents. The Presbyterians were
by far the most numerous, and were zealously supported by the Scots,
who were nearly all of that persuasion, and desired to see their form
of religion prevail over the whole country. They were as fiercely
intolerant as the Catholics, and would listen to nothing but the entire
predominance of their faith and customs. But the Independents, who
claimed and offered liberty of conscience, and protested against any
ruling church, possessed almost all the men of intellect in Parliament,
and the chiefs at the head of the army. Cromwell, in his letter from
the field of Naseby, called for toleration of conscience, and Fairfax
urged the same doctrine in all his despatches from the West. There
was, moreover, a jealousy growing as to the armies of the Scots, who
had got most of the garrisons in the North of England and Ireland into
their hands. These divisions opened to Charles a chance of treating
with one party at the expense of the other, and in his usual way he
made overtures to all. To the Scots he offered full concession of all
their desires, and great advantages from the influence which their
alliance with him would give. To the Independents he offered the utmost
toleration of religious opinion, and all the rewards of pre-eminence in
the State and the army. To the Presbyterians he was particularly urged
by the queen to promise the predominance of their Church and the like
advantages. With the Catholics of Ireland he was equally in treaty;
but whilst his secret negotiations were going on in Ireland, the Scots
endeavoured to bring theirs to a close, by applying to the queen in
Paris. Three great changes had taken place, all favourable to Charles.
Both the king, Louis XIII., and Richelieu, were dead. Richelieu had
never forgiven Charles's attempts on La Rochelle, and his effort to
raise the Huguenots into an independent power in France, nor his
movements in Flanders against his designs. Mazarin, who now succeeded
as the minister of Louis XIV., had no particular resentment against
Charles, and though cautious in taking direct measures against the
English Parliament, did not oppose any of the attempts at pacification
between the king and his subjects. The Scots had always found
Richelieu their ally, and they now applied to his successor to assist
them in bringing matters to bear with Charles. In consequence of this,
Montreuil was sent over to London, who conferred with the Scottish
Commissioners, and then conveyed to Charles their proposals. But the
king, who had promised them all concessions consistent with his honour,
found the very first proposition to be that Episcopacy should be for
ever abolished not only in Scotland, but in England, and Presbytery
made the Established Church. He had conceived that they would be
satisfied with the supremacy of their faith in their own country, and
he at once refused this demand. It was in vain that Montreuil pointed
out to him that the Scots and the Presbyterians of England were agreed
upon this point, and that consequently any arrangement with the
latter party must inevitably be upon the same basis. Charles declared
that rather than consent to any such terms, he would agree with the
Independents. Montreuil replied that the Scots sought only to make him
king, first having their own wishes as to religion gratified; but the
Independents, he was confident, contemplated nothing less than the
subversion of his throne. He informed him that the queen had given to
Sir Robert Murray a written promise that the king would accede to the
demand of the Scots, which promise was now in the hands of the Scottish
Commissioners; moreover, that this was the earnest desire of the queen,
the queen-regent of France, and of Mazarin.

Nothing, however, could shake Charles's resolution on this head, and
he therefore made a direct application to Parliament to treat for an
accommodation. They received his offer coolly, almost contemptuously.
He desired passports for his Commissioners, or a safe-conduct for
himself, that they might treat personally; but it was bluntly refused,
on the ground that he was not to be trusted, having, on all similar
occasions, employed the opportunities afforded to endeavour to
corrupt the fidelity of the Commissioners. Not to appear, however,
to reject the treaty, they sent fresh proposals to him, but so much
more stringent than those at Uxbridge, that it was plain that they
were rather bent on delaying than treating. The king was now in a very
different position since the battle of Naseby and the fall of Bristol;
and it was obviously the interest of Parliament to allow Fairfax and
Cromwell to put down his last remains of an army in the West, when
they would have nothing to do but to shut up the king in Oxford, and
compel him to submit at discretion. Montreuil, seeing this, again
urged him to come to terms with the Scots, and that not a moment was
to be lost. But nothing could move him to consent to their demand of
a universal Presbyterianism, and he again, on the 26th of January,
1646, demanded a personal interview with the Parliament at Westminster.
His demand, however, arrived at a most unfortunate crisis, for the
discovery of his negotiations with the Irish Catholics had just been
made: the entire correspondence was in the hands of the Commons, and
the whole House was in the most violent ferment of indignation. The
king's letter was thrown aside and left without notice.

On October 17th, 1645, the titular Archbishop of Tuam was killed in a
skirmish between two parties of Scots and Irish near Sligo, and in his
carriage were discovered copies of a most extraordinary negotiation,
which had been going on for a long time in Ireland between Charles
and the Catholics, for the restoration of popish predominance in
that country, on condition of their sending an army to put down the
Parliament in England.

We have already spoken of the confederate Irish Catholics, who
maintained an army for their own defence, and had a council at
Kilkenny. Charles had instructed the Marquis of Ormond, the
Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, to make a peace with these Confederates:
he had some time ago obtained a cessation of hostilities, but they
would not consent to a permanent peace, nor to furnish the king troops
until they obtained a legal guarantee for the establishment of their
own religion. Lord Ormond, in his endeavours, did not satisfy the king,
or rather his position disabled him from consenting publicly to such a
treaty, as it would have roused all the Protestants, and the Scottish
and English Parliaments against him. Charles, therefore, who was always
ready with some underhand intrigue to gain his ends, and break his
bargain when it became convenient, sent over Lord Herbert, the son of
the Marquis of Worcester, and whom he now created Earl of Glamorgan, to
effect this difficult matter.

[Illustration: RAGLAN CASTLE.]

Glamorgan was as zealous in his loyalty as in his speculative pursuits.
He and his father had spent two hundred thousand pounds in the king's
cause, and he was now engaged in an enterprise where he risked
everything for Charles--name, honour, and life. He was furnished
with a warrant which authorised him to concede the demands of the
Catholics regarding their religion, and to engage them to send over ten
thousand men. After many difficulties he reached Dublin, communicated
to Ormond the plan, saw with him the Catholic deputies in Dublin, and
then hastened to Kilkenny, to arrange with the council there. But at
this time occurred the revelation of the scheme by the seizure of the
Archbishop of Tuam's papers. The Parliament was thrown into a fury;
the Marquis of Ormond, to make his loyalty appear, seized Glamorgan,
and put him into prison, and the king sent a letter to the two Houses
of Parliament, utterly disavowing the commission of Glamorgan, and
denouncing the warrant in his name as a forgery. All this had been
agreed upon before between the king and Glamorgan, should any discovery
take place; and on searching for Glamorgan's papers a warrant was
found, not sealed in the usual manner, and the papers altogether
informal, so that the king might by this means be able to disavow them.
But that Ormond and the council of Kilkenny had seen a real and formal
warrant, there can be no question. The king, by a second letter to the
two Houses, reiterated his disavowal of the whole affair, and assured
them that he had ordered the privy council in Dublin to proceed against
Glamorgan for his presumption. The proceedings were conducted by Lord
Digby, who assumed a well-feigned indignation against Glamorgan,
accusing him of high treason. The animus with which this accusation
appeared to be made has induced many to believe that Digby was really
incensed, because he had not been let wholly into the secret of
Glamorgan's commission; and his letter to the king on the subject,
noticed by Clarendon as rude and unmanly, would seem to confirm this.
However, Glamorgan, on his part, took the whole matter very cheerfully,
allowed the king's disclaimers without a remonstrance or evidence of
vexation, and produced a copy of his secret treaty with the Catholics,
in which he had inserted an article called a _defeasance_, by which the
king was bound by the treaty no further than he pleased till he had
seen what the Catholics did for him, and by which the Catholics were
to keep this clause secret till the king had done all in his power to
secure their claims.

Surely such a system of royal and political hocus-pocus had never been
concerted before. Ormond, on seeing the defeasance, declared that
it was quite satisfactory, binding the king to nothing; in fact, he
had to avoid the danger of alarming the Catholics and losing their
army for the king; and the Protestants having seen the affected zeal
to prosecute Glamorgan had become greatly appeased. Glamorgan was,
therefore, liberated, and hastened again to Kilkenny to urge on the
sending of the forces. But the late disclosures had not been without
their effect. One part of the council insisted on the full execution
of the king's warrant, the open acknowledgment of Catholicism as the
established religion, and the pope's nuncio, Runcini, who had lately
arrived, strongly urged them to stand by that demand. But another part
of the council were more compliant, and by their aid Glamorgan obtained
five thousand men, with whom he marched to Waterford, to hasten their
passage for the relief of Chester, where Lord Byron was driven to
extremities by the Parliamentarians. There, however, he received the
news that Chester had fallen, and there was not a single port left
where Glamorgan could land his troops; he therefore disbanded them.

Despite the failure of his efforts, the unfortunate monarch still
endeavoured to negotiate some terms for himself, first with one party
and then with another, or with all together. The Parliament had treated
with contempt two offers of negotiation from him. They did not even
deign him an answer. But his circumstances were now such that he
submitted to insults that a short time before would have been deemed
incredible. On the 29th of January, 1646, he made his second offer; he
repeated it on the 23rd of March. He offered to disband his forces,
dismantle his garrisons--he had only five, Pendennis in Cornwall,
Worcester, Newark, Raglan, and Oxford--and to take up his residence
at Westminster, near the Parliament, on a guarantee that he and his
followers should be suffered to live in honour and safety, and his
adherents should retain their property. But the Parliament were now
wholly in the ascendant, and they made the wretched king feel it.
Instead of a reply, they issued an order that if he should come within
their lines, he should be conducted to St. James's, his followers
imprisoned, and none be allowed to have access to him. At the same time
they ordered all Catholics, and all who had borne arms for the king,
to depart within six days, or expect to be treated as spies, and dealt
with by martial law.

But whilst thus ignominiously repelled by Parliament, Montreuil was
still pursuing negotiations on his behalf with the Scots. He obtained
for the purpose the post of agent from the French Court to Scotland,
and with some difficulty obtained from the Parliament leave to visit
the king at Oxford with letters from the King of France and the Queen
Regent, before proceeding northwards. He employed his time there in
urging Charles to agree with the Scots by conceding the point of
religion; and at length it was concluded that Charles should force
his way through the Parliamentary army investing Oxford, and that the
Scots at Newark should send three hundred horse to receive him, and
escort him to their army. Montreuil delivered to Charles an engagement
from the Scottish commissioners for the king's personal safety, his
conscience, and his honour, as well as for the security and religious
freedom of his followers. This was also guaranteed by the King and
Queen Regent of France on behalf of the Scots who had applied to them
for their good offices. Charles wrote to Ormond in Ireland, informing
him that he had received this security, and on the 3rd of April, 1646,
Montreuil set forward northwards.

[Illustration: ENGLAND During the CIVIL WAR 1642-1649.

_Artiste Illustrators. Ltd. 84_]

Montreuil carried with him an order from the king to Lord Bellasis,
to surrender Newark into the hands of the Scots, but on arriving at
Southwell, in the camp of the Scots, he was astonished to find that the
leaders of the army professed ignorance of the conditions made with the
Scottish Commissioners in London. They would not, therefore, undertake
the responsibility of meeting and escorting the king--which they
declared would be a breach of the solemn league and covenant between
the two nations--till they had conferred with their Commissioners,
and made all clear. The security mentioned by Charles to Ormond
would, if this were true, have been from the Commissioners only; and
there must have been gross neglect in not apprising the officers of
it. Montreuil was greatly disconcerted by this discovery, burnt the
order for the surrender of Newark, and wrote to Charles to inform him
of the unsatisfactory interview with the Scots. It is doubtful whether
Charles ever received this letter. At all events, impatient of some
results, for the Parliamentary army was fast closing round Oxford, he
snatched at another chance. Captain Fawcett, Governor of Woodstock,
sent to tell him that that garrison was reduced to extremities, and to
inquire whether he might expect relief, or whether he should surrender
it on the best terms he could obtain. Charles immediately applied to
Colonel Rainsborough, the chief officer conducting the siege of Oxford,
for passports for the Earl of Southampton and Lindsay, Sir William
Fleetwood, and Mr. Ashburnham, to treat with him about the surrender
of Woodstock; but the main thing was to propose the coming of the king
to them on certain conditions. Rainsborough and the other officers
appeared much pleased, but said they could not decide so important an
affair without reference to their superior officers, but if the offer
were entertained, they would the next day send a pass for them to
come and complete the negotiation. If the pass did not come, it must
be understood that the offer was not accepted. No pass came, and the
king was reduced to great straits, for the Parliamentarian armies were
coming closer and closer. He applied then to Ireton who was posted at
Woodstock, but he returned him no answer; to Vane, but he referred
him to Parliament; and thus was the humiliated king treated with the
most insulting contempt. It was believed that it was the intention of
Parliament to keep Charles there till Fairfax and Cromwell, who were
now marching up from the west, should arrive, when they would capture
him and have him at their mercy.

At length Montreuil informed Charles that deputies from the army had
met the Commissioners at Royston, and that it was settled to receive
the king. There are conflicting accounts of the proceedings at this
period. Clarendon and Ashburnham, who have both left narratives, vary
considerably. Ashburnham, the king's groom of the chambers, says that
word was sent that David Leslie would meet his majesty at Gainsborough
with two thousand horse, but Montreuil's message was that the Scots
would send a strong party to Burton-on-Trent, beyond which they could
not go with that force, but would send a few straggling horse to
Harborough, and if the king informed them of the day he would be there,
they would not fail him. As to a proposal that Charles was impolitic
enough to make to these Scottish Covenanters, to form a junction with
Montrose, a man whom they hated with a deadly hatred for his ravages
and slaughters of their party, they treated it with scorn; and, says
Montreuil, "with regard to the Presbyterian government, they desire
his majesty to agree with them as soon as he can. Such is the account
they make here of the engagement of the king, my master, and of the
promises I had from their party in London." He adds that if any better
conditions could be had from any other quarter, these ought not to
be thought of. Montreuil wrote twice more, the last time on the 20th
of April, expressing no better opinion of the Scots, and saying that
they would admit none of his majesty's followers save his two nephews,
Rupert and Maurice, and such servants as were not excepted from the
pardon; and that they could not then refuse to give them up to the
Parliament, but would find means to let them escape.

A gloomier prospect for the king than the one in that quarter could
scarcely present itself. It appears that he had not yet agreed to
the ultimatum of the Scots--the concession of the supremacy of the
Presbyterian Church--and therefore there was no actual treaty between
them. But all other prospects were closed; Charles must choose between
the Scots and the Parliament, the latter body pursuing a contemptuous
and ominous silence. Fairfax and Cromwell were now within a day's march
of the city, and Charles made his choice of the Scots. Yet so undecided
even at the moment of escaping from the city was he, that he would not
commit himself irrevocably to the Scots, by announcing to them his
departure and the direction of his journey. It is remarkable, indeed,
that he had not before, or even now, thought of endeavouring to escape
to Ireland, and making a second stand there with the confederates, or
of getting to the Continent and awaiting a turn of fortune. But he
seemed altogether like a doomed mortal who could not fly his fate.

About two o'clock on the morning of the 27th of April, Charles set out
from Oxford, disguised as the servant of Ashburnham. He had his hair
cut short by Ashburnham, and rode after that gentleman and Hudson the
chaplain, who knew the country well and was their guide. They rode
out unsuspected over Magdalen Bridge, Charles having, groom-like,
a cloak strapped round his waist. To prevent particular attention
or pursuit, several others of them rode out at the same time in
different directions. Charles and his pretended masters got without
suspicion through the lines of the Parliamentary army, and reached
Henley-on-Thames. But now that he was in temporary safety, he appeared
more undecided than ever. He did not attempt to send word to the Scots
to meet him; but, says Clarendon, he was uncertain whether to go to the
Scottish army, or to get privately into London, and lie concealed there
till he might choose what was best. Clarendon declares that he still
thought so well of the City of London, as not to have been unwilling to
have found himself there. But certainly the City had never shown itself
more favourable to him than the Parliament; and now with the Parliament
in the ascendant, it was not likely that it would undertake to contend
with it for the protection or rights of the king. Charles still trusted
that he might hear of Montrose making a fresh movement on his behalf,
in which case he would endeavour to get to him; and he never for long
after abandoned the hope of still hearing something from Ireland in his
favour. From Henley, he therefore directed his way to Slough, thence
to Uxbridge, Hillingdon, Brentford, so near did he reach London, and
then again off to Harrow. His uncertainty increased more and more. He
proceeded towards St. Albans, and near that town was alarmed by the
sound of horses' feet behind them. It was only a drunken man; but to
avoid danger they kept out of St. Albans, and continued through the
bye-ways to Harborough, where he was on the 28th. Two days afterwards
he reached Downham in Norfolk, and spent some time in inquiring after a
vessel that might carry him to Newcastle or Scotland. He seems to have
expected at Harborough some message from the Scots or from Montreuil,
but as none was there, he had despatched Hudson to Montreuil at
Southwell. No prospect of escape by sea offering--for the coasts were
strictly guarded by the Parliamentary vessels--Charles determined to
go over to the Scots on Hudson returning with a message from Montreuil
that they still declared that they would receive the king on his
personal honour; that they would press him to do nothing contrary to
his conscience; that Ashburnham and Hudson should be protected; that
if the Parliament refused, on a message from the king, to restore him
to his rights and prerogatives, they would declare for him, and take
all his friends under their protection; and that if the Parliament did
agree to restore the king, not more than four of his friends should be
punished, and that only by banishment. All this Montreuil, according to
Hudson's own account afterwards to Parliament, assured Charles by note,
but added that the Scots would only give it by word of mouth and not by
writing.

At the best this was suspicious; but where was the king to turn? He was
treated with the most contemptuous silence by the Parliament, which was
at this very moment hoping to make him unconditionally their prisoner.
Fairfax had drawn his lines of circumvallation round Oxford five days
after the king's departure, ignorant that he had escaped, and in the
full hope of taking him. For nine days Charles was wandering about,
nobody knowing where he was, and during that time Clarendon says he had
been in different gentlemen's houses, where "he was not unknown, but
untaken notice of."

On the 5th of May he resolved, on the report of Hudson, to go to the
Scots, and accordingly, early on that morning he rode into Southwell,
to Montreuil's lodgings, and announced his intention. The manner
in which he was received there is related in very contradictory
terms by Ashburnham and Clarendon. Ashburnham says that some of the
Scottish Commissioners came to Montreuil's lodgings to receive him,
and accompanied him with a troop of horse to the headquarters of the
Scottish army at Kelham, where they went after dinner, and were well
received, many lords coming instantly to wait on him with professions
of joy that his majesty had so far honoured their army as to think it
worthy of his presence after so long an opposition. Clarendon, on the
other hand, declares that "very early in the morning he went to the
general's lodgings, and discovered himself to him, who either was, or
seemed to be, exceedingly surprised and confounded at his majesty's
presence, and knew not what to say, but presently gave notice to the
committee, who were no less perplexed."

Both of them, however, agree that the Scots soon convinced Charles that
they considered that he had surrendered himself unconditionally into
their hands; that he had not complied with their terms, and that there
was no treaty actually between them; and from all that appears, this
was the case. Charles had trusted to the assurances of Montreuil, and
had really no written evidence of any engagement on the part of the
Scots, nor was any ever produced. Some of the lords, says Ashburnham,
desiring to know how they might best testify their gratitude to his
majesty for the confidence he had reposed in them, he replied that the
only way was to apply themselves to the performance of the conditions
on which he had come to them. At the word "conditions," Lord Lothian
expressed much surprise, and declared he knew of no conditions
concluded, nor did he believe any of the Commissioners residing with
the army knew of such. On this Charles desired Montreuil to present a
summary of the conditions concluded with the Commissioners in London,
sanctioned by the King of France. It should, however, be borne in mind
that since then the army Commissioners had met with the commissioners
from London at Royston, and had agreed to the terms to be offered
to the king. When Ashburnham, therefore, affirms that many of the
Commissioners of the army still protested their ignorance of these
conditions, it can only mean that such conditions were not concluded
with the king, either there or anywhere, for Charles had never
consented to accept them. When Charles, therefore, asked them what they
meant, then, by inviting him to come to them, and why they had sent
word that all differences were reconciled, and that David Leslie should
meet him with an escort of horse, they replied that this was on the
understanding that his majesty meant to accept their terms, from which
they had never receded, and that they now thought that by his coming to
them he had meant to accept the cardinal condition--the taking of the
Covenant.

[Illustration: FLIGHT OF CHARLES FROM OXFORD. (_See p._ 51.)]

Charles must have been well aware of the truth of all this, but he was
a man who played fast and loose so constantly, that it was impossible
to make any treaty with him. At the very time that he was preparing
to leave Oxford, so alive were all these quibbles and evasions in his
mind, that he wrote to Lord Digby, expressing his intention to get to
London if he could, "not," he says, "without hope that I shall be able
so to draw either the Presbyterians or the Independents to side with
me, for extirpating one another, that I shall really be king again."
This proves that on setting out from Oxford, he had held himself loose
from any compact with the Scots, and did not mean to go to them at all
if he could manage to cozen the Presbyterians or Independents to take
his part, and "extirpate one another."

Such a man was as slippery as an eel. He now insisted solemnly on the
existence of the very conditions that he had purposely kept clear of.
The Scots stood by their offered terms, and exhorted him to accept
the Covenant, entreating him with tears and on their knees to take
it, or to sanction the Presbyterian worship if he could not adopt it,
and pledging themselves on that condition to fight for him to the
last man. But this Charles would not do. He was still--though beaten
and voluntarily surrendered to his enemies--as full of the persuasion
of the divinity of kingship as ever. He therefore undertook to give
the word to the guard, in virtue of his being the chief person in the
army; but old Leven quickly undeceived him, by saying, "I am the older
soldier; your majesty had better leave that office to me."

It was now necessary to apprise the Parliament of the king having
entered their camp--a piece of intelligence which produced a wonderful
sensation. Fairfax had already announced to the Parliament that the
king had escaped out of Oxford, and was believed to have gone towards
London, whereupon the two Houses had issued a proclamation forbidding
any one to harbour or conceal his person on pain of high treason, and
of forfeiting the whole of their estate, and being put to death without
mercy. All Papists and other disaffected persons were ordered, on the
supposition that the king might be in London, to remove before the 12th
of May to twenty-five miles' distance from the metropolis, leaving,
before they went, a notice at Goldsmiths' Hall of the places to which
they intended to retire. When the letter arrived from the Scottish
Commissioners, the Parliament was filled with jealousy and alarm.
There had long been a feeling of the design of the Scots, supported
by the Presbyterians, assuming an undue power; and now to hear that
they had the king in their hands was most embarrassing. They instantly
sent word to the Scots that his majesty must be disposed of according
to the will of the two Houses of Parliament, and that for the present
he must be sent to Warwick Castle; that Ashburnham and Hudson, the
king's attendants, should be sent for by the sergeant-at-arms or his
deputy, to be dealt with as delinquents; and that a narrative must be
prepared of the manner in which the king came to the Scottish camp,
and forthwith sent to the two Houses. To enforce these orders, they
commanded Poyntz to watch the Scottish army with five thousand men, and
Sir Thomas Fairfax to prepare to follow him.

The Scots were not prepared to enter into a civil war with England
for the restoration of the king, who would not comply even with their
propositions; but they knew too well the power they possessed in the
possession of his person, to let the Parliament frighten them out
of their advantage till they had secured their own terms with them.
They therefore immediately addressed a letter to the Parliament,
expressing their astonishment at finding the king coming among them,
for which they solemnly but untruly protested there had been no treaty
nor capitulation. Perhaps they saved their word by meaning no treaty
concluded. They assured the two Houses that they would do everything
possible to maintain a right understanding between the two kingdoms,
and therefore solicited their advice, as they had also sent to solicit
that of the Committee of Estates in Scotland, as to the best measures
to be adopted for the satisfactory settlement of the affairs of the
kingdom. Charles also sent to Parliament, repeating his offers of
accommodation and requesting the two Houses to forward to him the
propositions for peace. To show his sincerity, he ordered his officers
to surrender the fortresses still in their hands to the Committee of
both kingdoms for the English Parliament. He had offered to surrender
them to the Scots, but they refused to accept them, knowing that it
must embroil them with the Parliament. This surrender on the part of
the king, on the 10th of June, closed the war. The last to pull down
the royal standard was the old Marquis of Worcester, the father of
Glamorgan, who held Raglan Castle, and who, though he was eighty years
of age, was compelled by Parliament to travel from Raglan to London,
where he immediately died. Worcester had refused to give up Raglan,
as it was his own house. He did not surrender it till the 19th of
August. Oxford was given up on the 24th of June. Rupert and Maurice
were suffered to withdraw to the Continent. The Duke of York, Charles's
second son, was sent up to London to the custody of Parliament, and put
under the care of the Earl of Northumberland.

Things being in this position, and both Charles and the Scots being
anxious to keep at a distance from Fairfax and his army till the terms
were settled, the Scots rapidly retreated to Newcastle, carrying the
king with them.

The treaty between the Scots and the English Parliament was now carried
on with much diplomacy on both sides, and was not finally settled
till the 16th of January, 1647. The Scots, soon after leaving Newark,
proposed a meeting with the Parliamentary Commissioners, to explain
the reasons of their retreat northwards, and also for not surrendering
Ashburnham and Hudson; but the meeting did not take place, and soon
after Ashburnham contrived to escape and get into France, to the queen.
Charles said that he could have escaped, too, had he been so disposed;
but Hudson attempting it, was stopped.

Charles did not neglect to try the effect of brilliant promises on
David Leslie and others of the Scottish officers, if they would side
with him and make a junction with Montrose for his restoration. He
offered to make David Earl of Orkney, but the Committee of Estates sent
the Earls of Argyll and Loudon, and Lord Lanark, to Newcastle, to see
that all was kept in order in the camp; and they told Charles plainly
that he must take the Covenant, and order Montrose to disband his
forces in the Highlands, if he expected them to do anything important
for him. Charles consented to order the disbanding of Montrose's
followers and his retirement to France, but he could not bring himself
to accept the Covenant. In fact, on the same day that he gave the
order to surrender his remaining fortresses, he sent a letter to the
English Parliament, informing them that he was in full freedom, and
in a capacity to settle with them a peace, and offering to leave the
question of religion to the Assembly of Divines at Westminster, to
place the militia in their hands as proposed at Uxbridge, for seven
years, and, in short, to do all in his power to settle the kingdom
without further effusion of blood. The Parliament, however, knew that
he was in no condition to make war on them, and were too sensible of
their power to notice such overtures, further than that they thought
his terms now too high.

At this very time Charles was in active secret endeavour to obtain an
army from Ireland and France. Glamorgan and the Pope's nuncio were
busy in Ireland; the queen was equally busy in France; Mazarin again
promised her ten thousand men, and incited Lord Jermyn to seize Jersey
and Guernsey; and the king, though he had ordered Montrose to disband
his forces and quit Scotland, desired him to be ready to raise the
royal standard once more in the Highlands in conjunction with the
French and Irish. All these wild schemes, however, were knocked on
the head by the Earl of Ormond making peace with the Parliament on
condition that he should recover his estates. He surrendered the Castle
of Dublin and the fortresses to Parliament, went over to England, and
all hope of aid from Ireland was at an end.

Whilst these political designs were in agitation, Charles was deeply
engaged with the religious difficulty of giving up Episcopacy and
consenting to the dominance of Presbyterianism. He consulted Juxon,
the ex-Bishop of London, and gave him leave to advise with Dr.
Sheldon and the late Bishop of Salisbury, whether he might not accept
Presbyterianism as a man under compulsion, and therefore not really
bound by it; and he was at the same time engaged with Alexander
Henderson on the Scriptural authority of Episcopacy or Presbyterianism.
During this dispute, in which each champion supported his opinion with
Scriptural passages, and yet came no nearer than such disputants ever
do, the Scottish divine was taken ill and died, and the Royalists
declared that the king had so completely worsted him that he died of
chagrin.

On the 23rd of July the English Parliament at length made proposals
of peace, sending the Earls of Pembroke, Denbigh, and Montague, and
six members of the Commons, to Newcastle, to treat with him. The
conditions were not so favourable as those offered at Uxbridge, things,
indeed, being now very different; the great point, however, being the
abandonment of Episcopacy. They were to receive an answer or return
in ten days; but the king would not yield the question of the Church.
The Scottish Commissioners were present, and urged the king warmly to
consent to the conditions, and thus to restore peace. The Earls of
Loudon and Argyll implored it on their knees. Then Loudon, Chancellor
of Scotland, told him "that the consequences of his answer to the
propositions were so great, that on it depended the ruin of his crown
and kingdoms; that the Parliament, after many bloody battles, had
got the strongholds and forts of the kingdom into their hands; that
they had his revenue, excise, assessments, sequestrations, and power
to raise all the men and money in the kingdom; that they had gained
victory over all, and that they had a strong army to maintain it, so
that they might do what they would with Church or State; that they
desired neither him nor any of his race longer to reign over them,
and had sent these propositions to his majesty, without the granting
whereof the kingdom and his people would not be in safety; that if
he refused to assent, he would lose all his friends in Parliament,
lose the city, and lose the country; and that all England would join
against him as one man to process and depose him, and to set up another
Government; and that both kingdoms for safety would be compelled to
agree to settle religion and peace without him, to the ruin of his
majesty and posterity;" and he concluded by saying, "that if he left
England, he would not be allowed to go and reign in Scotland." This,
it must be confessed, was plain and honest, and therefore loyal and
patriotic speaking. The General Assembly of the Kirk had already come
to this conclusion; but all was lost on the king.

Parliament now having proved that all negotiation was useless, their
Commissioners returned, and reported that they could obtain no
answer from the king, except that he was ready to come up to London
and treat in person. A Presbyterian member, on hearing this report,
exclaimed--"What will become of us, now the king has rejected our
propositions?" "Nay," replied an Independent member, "what would have
become of us had he accepted them?" And really it is difficult to
see what could have been the condition of the kingdom had a man of
Charles's incorrigible character been again admitted to power. The
Parliament returned thanks to the Scottish Commissioners for their
zealous co-operation in the endeavour to arrange matters with the
king--a severe blow to Charles, who had till now clung to the hope of
seizing some advantage from the jealousies which for many months had
prevailed between the Parliament and the Scottish army.

On the 12th of August the Scottish Commissioners presented a paper to
the House of Lords, stating that the kingdom of Scotland had, on the
invitation of both Houses, carefully undertaken and faithfully managed
their assistance in the kingdom towards obtaining the ends expressed
in the covenant; and as the forces of the common enemy were now broken
and destroyed, through the blessing of God, they were willing to
surrender up the fortresses in their hands, and retire into their own
country, on a reasonable compensation being made for their sufferings
and expenses. They stated truly that many base calumnies and execrable
aspersions had been cast upon them by printed pamphlets and otherwise,
which they had not suffered to turn them from that brotherly affection
which was requisite for the great end in view, and which they trusted
would yet be effected, notwithstanding the lamentable refusal of their
propositions by the king. They claimed, moreover, still to be consulted
on the measure for accomplishing the common object of peace for the
kingdom. The Commons appointed a committee to settle the accounts
between them. The Scots demanded six hundred thousand pounds as the
balance due, but agreed to receive four hundred thousand pounds, one
half of which was to be paid before quitting the kingdom.

Scarcely had this amicable arrangement been made, when the two English
Houses of Parliament passed a resolution that the disposal of the
king's person belonged to them. This alarmed the Scots, who instantly
remonstrated, saying that as Charles was king of Scotland as well as
of England, both nations had an equal right to be consulted regarding
the disposal of his person. This is a sufficient answer to the calumny
so zealously propagated by the Royalists that the Scots had sold
the king to the Parliament. On the contrary, they had claimed a sum
of money as a just payment of their expenses and services, and the
person or liberty of the king had not entered at all into the bargain.
This bargain, in fact, was made five months--that is, on the 5th of
September--before they delivered up the king, that is, on the 30th
of January, 1647, and during these five months they were zealously
engaged in contending for the personal security of the monarch to the
very verge of a civil war. All this time they strove equally to induce
Charles to accept the terms, which would have removed all difficulties.
From September 21st, when the English Parliament voted this resolution,
to October 13th, a fierce contest was carried on on this subject, and
various conferences were held. The Scots published their speeches on
these occasions; the English seized them, and imprisoned the printers;
there was imminent danger of civil war, and on the 13th of October the
Commons voted payment for the army for the next six months, giving an
unmistakable proof of their resolve on the question.

All this was beheld with delight by Charles; and he wrote to his wife
that he believed yet that they would have to restore him with honour.
He believed one party or the other would, to settle the question,
concede all to him, and with his sanction put the other down. For some
time the public spirit in Scotland favoured his hopes. The question
was discussed there with as much vehemence as in England. His friends
exerted themselves, the national feeling was raised in his favour,
and the Scottish Parliament passed a vote on the 10th of December,
under the management of the Hamiltons, that they would exert all their
power and influence to maintain the monarchical system of government,
and the king's title to the English crown, which it was now notorious
that the Independents sought to subvert. This gave wonderful spirit
to the royal party; but the Commission of the Kirk instantly reminded
Parliament that Charles had steadily refused to take the Covenant, and
that even if he were deposed in England, he could not be allowed to
come into Scotland; or if he did enter it, his royal functions must be
suspended till he had embraced the Covenant, and given freedom to their
religion. This brought the Parliament to reflection, and the next day
it rescinded the resolution.

[Illustration: QUEEN HENRIETTA'S DRAWING-ROOM AND BEDROOM, MERTON
COLLEGE, OXFORD.]

This dashed the last hopes of the king, and, now that it was too late,
he began seriously to contemplate escape to the Continent. Montreuil
wrote to the French Court on the 21st of January, 1647--the very day
that the money was paid to the Scots, and a receipt given previous to
their departure--that Charles still continued to dream of escaping,
though to himself it appeared impossible, unless the Scots had rather
see him do so than fall into the hands of the Independents. The king
had arranged with Sir Robert and William Murray his scheme of escape in
disguise, but it was found impossible. Once more, therefore, he wrote
to the Parliament of England for permission to go to London and open
a free debate with both Houses for the settlement of all differences.
The message received no notice whatever; but the two Houses went on
debating as to the disposal of the king's person. The Lords voted
that he should be allowed to come to Newmarket; the Commons that he
should go to Holmby, in Northampton, one of his houses, to which he was
considerably attached. After further debate this was agreed to by the
Lords.

The Scots, seeing that they must yield up the person of Charles to
the English Parliament or prepare to fight for it, asked themselves
what they were to gain by a civil war for a king who would not move
one jot towards complying with their wishes? They made one more effort
to persuade him to take the Covenant, but in vain. In reply to their
solicitation, he made this ominous reply:--"It is a received opinion by
many, that engagements, acts, or promises of a restrained person, are
neither valid nor obligating; how true or false this is I will not now
dispute, but I am sure if I be not free, I am not fit to answer your or
any propositions." And he demanded if he went to Scotland whether he
should be free, with honour and safety. It was clear what was in his
mind--that if he did take the Covenant he would be at liberty to break
it when he had the power; and as the Scots had determined that they
would not receive him into Scotland at the certain cost of civil war,
when they could with such a person have no possible guarantee of his
keeping his engagements even were he brought to make them, they replied
that he must at once accept their propositions, or they must leave
him to the resolution of Parliament. Two days afterwards (the 16th of
January, 1647), the Parliament of Scotland acceded to the demand of the
English Parliament that the king should be given up, a promise being
exacted that respect should be had to the safety of his person in the
defence of the true religion, and the liberties of the two kingdoms,
according to the Solemn League and Covenant. More was demanded by the
Scots, namely, that no obstacle should be opposed to the legitimate
succession of his children, and no alteration made in the existing
government of the kingdom. To this the Lords fully assented, but the
Commons took no notice of it.

On the 5th of January the two hundred thousand pounds, engaged to
be paid to the Scots before leaving England, arrived at Newcastle,
in thirty-six carts, under a strong escort, and having been duly
counted, a receipt was signed on the 21st at Northallerton, and on the
30th Charles was committed to the care of the English Commissioners,
consisting of three lords and six commoners, the Earl of Pembroke being
at their head. He professed to be pleased with the change, as it would
bring him nearer to his Parliament. The Scots, having finished their
business in England, evacuated Newcastle, and marched away into their
own country.

In all these transactions we have endeavoured in vain to discover any
ground for the common calumny against the Scots, that they bought
and sold the king. On the contrary, we have shown that all contract
regarding their reimbursements and remunerations was completed five
months before the delivery of the king; and that they did all in their
power to induce him to accept their Covenant, and with that their
pledge to defend him to the last drop of their blood. Montreuil says,
that even at the last moment the Earls of Lauderdale and Traquair
again pressed the king to consent to accept the Covenant and establish
Presbyterianism, and they would convey him to Berwick and compel the
English to be satisfied with what he had thus offered them. He stated
that the Scots offered him (Montreuil) twenty thousand Jacobuses to
persuade the king to comply, but that he could not prevail. It must
be remembered, too, that when they did surrender him, it was only on
promise of safety to his person, and that they delivered him not to the
Independents, who made no secret of their designs against the monarchy,
but to their fellow believers, the Parliament, which entertained no
such intentions, and had already offered Charles the same terms on the
same conditions.

Before the close of this year, that is in September, the Earl of Essex
died; Ireton married Bridget Cromwell, second daughter of Oliver
Cromwell; and a great number of officers in the army were again in
Parliament--the Self-denying Ordinance, having served its turn, being
no more heard of.

CHAPTER III.

END OF THE REIGN OF CHARLES I.

Differences between the Presbyterians and Independents--The King
at Holmby--Attempt to Disband the Army--Consequent Petitions
to Parliament--The Adjutators--Meeting at Newmarket--Seizure
of the King--Advance of the Army on London--Stubbornness
of the Presbyterians--The Army Marches through London--Its
Proposals to Charles--Their Rejection--The King throws away
his Best Chances--The Levellers--Cromwell's Efforts on
behalf of Charles--Renewed Intrigues of Charles--Flight to
Carisbrooke--Attempts to Rescue the King--Charles Treats with the
Scots--Consequent Reaction in his Favour--Battle of Preston and
Suppression of the Insurrection--Cromwell at Edinburgh--The Prince
of Wales in Command of the Fleet--Negotiations at Newport--Growing
Impatience of the Army--Petitions for the King's Trial--Charles's
Blindness and Duplicity--He is Removed to Hurst Castle--Pride's
Purge--Supremacy of the Independents--The Whiggamores--Hugh Peters'
Sermon in St. Margaret's, Westminster--Ordinance for the King's
Trial--Trial and Execution of Charles I.

For a long time the difference of opinion between the Presbyterians
and the Independents had been growing more marked and determined.
The latter, from a small knot of Dissenters, had grown into a
considerable one, and the more influential, because the most able
and active, leaders of both Parliament and army were of that sect.
Under the head of Independents, however, ranged themselves, so far as
politics were concerned, a variety of other Dissenters--Arminians,
Millenaries, Baptists and Anabaptists, Familists, Enthusiasts, Seekers,
Perfectists, Socinians, Arians, and others--all of whom claimed freedom
of worship, according to their peculiar faiths. On the other hand,
the Presbyterians, backed by the Scots, were bent on establishing a
religious despotism. Their tenets and form of government were alone
to be tolerated. They were as resolute sticklers for conformity as
the Catholics, or Charles and Laud themselves. They set up the same
claims to be superior to the State, and allowed of no appeal from their
tribunals to those of the civil magistrate. Having established the
Directory for the form of worship, they erected an assembly, with its
synods, and divided the whole kingdom into provinces, the provinces
into classes, the classes into presbyteries or elderships. They
declared that "the keys of the kingdom of heaven were committed to the
officers of the Church, by virtue whereof they had power to retain and
remit sins, to shut the kingdom of heaven against the impenitent by
censures, and to open it to the penitent by absolution." They claimed a
right to inquire into the private lives of persons, and of suspending
the unworthy from the Sacrament.

All these assumptions the Independents denied, and would not admit
any authority over the free action of individual congregations. The
Commons, through the influence of Selden and Whitelock, proposed
to the Assembly of Divines nine questions respecting the nature and
object of the divine right to which they aspired, and before they could
answer these, the army and the Independents, its leaders, had effected
still more embarrassing changes. The king being conquered, and the
Scots having withdrawn, the contest lay no longer between the king and
Parliament, but between the Presbyterians and Independents, or, what
was nearly synonymous, the Parliament and the Army.

The king was conducted to Holmby by easy journeys, and treated by his
attendants with courtesy. The people flocked to see him, and showed
that the traditions of royalty were yet strong in them. They received
him with acclamations, uttered prayers for his preservation, and not
a few of them pressed forward to be touched for the "evil." On his
arrival at Holmby, he found a great number of ladies and gentlemen
assembled to welcome him, with every demonstration of pleasure, and
his house and table well appointed and supplied. He passed his time in
reading, in riding about the country, and in different amusements--as
chess and bowls, riding to Althorpe, or even to Harrowden, because
there was no good bowling-green at Holmby. One thing only he complained
of, and requested to have altered. The Parliament sent him clergymen
of their own persuasion to attend him; he begged that any two out
of his twelve chaplains might be substituted, but was refused.
The Presbyterian ministers allotted him were Thomas Herbert, and
Harrington, the author of "Oceana," with whose conversation Charles was
much pleased on all subjects but religion and form of government. But
though Charles passed the bulk of his time in relaxation, he was not
insensible to his situation; and when he had been left there for three
months without notice, he addressed to Parliament a letter in which
he proposed to allow Presbyterian Church government for three years,
his own liberty of worship being granted, and twenty clergymen of the
Church of England admitted to the Westminster Assembly; the question of
religion at the end of that period was to be finally settled by himself
and the two Houses in the usual way, and the command of the army was
also to be left to Parliament for ten years, and then to revert to
him. The Lords gladly assented to this offer, but the Commons did not
entertain it, and other matters soon claimed their attention.

The Presbyterians had, during the active engagements of the army, and
the consequent absence of the leading Independents, strengthened their
ranks by many new members of Parliament, and they now set about to
reduce the power of their opponents by disbanding the greater part of
the army. They decreed in February that three thousand horse, twelve
hundred dragoons, and eight thousand four hundred foot, should be
withdrawn from Fairfax's army and sent to Ireland, and that besides one
thousand dragoons and five thousand four hundred horse, all the rest of
the army should be disbanded, except as many soldiers as were necessary
to man the forty-five castles and fortresses which remained. This would
have completely prostrated the power of the Independents; and Cromwell,
on whose shrewd character and military success they now looked with
terror, would have been first sacrificed, as well as Ireton, Ludlow,
Blake, Skippon, Harrison, Algernon Sidney, and others, who had fought
the real battle of the late contest. The heads of the Presbyterians
in Parliament consisted of unsuccessful commanders--Holles, Waller,
Harley, Stapleton, and others--who hated the successful ones, both on
account of their brilliant success and of their religion. Fairfax,
though a Presbyterian, went along with his officers in all the love of
toleration.

It was voted in the Commons, not only that no officer under Fairfax
should have higher rank than that of colonel, but that no one should
hold a commission who did not take the Covenant and conform to the
government of the Church as fixed by Parliament. This would have been
a sweeping measure, had the Parliament not had a very obvious party
motive in it, and had it paid its soldiers, and been in a condition
to discharge them. But at this moment they were immensely in arrears
with the pay of the army, and that body, feeling its strength, at once
broke up its cantonments round Nottingham, and marched towards London,
halting only at Saffron Walden. This movement created a terrible alarm
in the City, Parliament regarded it as a menace, but Fairfax excused
it on the plea of the exhausted state of the country round their old
quarters. The Commons hastened to vote sixty thousand pounds towards
the payment of arrears, which amounted to forty-three weeks for the
horse and eighteen for the infantry. In the City, the Council and
the Presbyterians got up a petition to both Houses, praying that the
army might be removed farther from London; but at the same moment a
more startling one was in progress from the Independents, addressed
to "the supreme authority of the nation, the Commons in Parliament
assembled." It not only gave this significant hint of its opinion
where the real power of the State lay, but denounced the House of
Lords as assuming undue authority, and complained of the persecution
and exclusion from all places of trust of those who could not conform
to the Church government imposed. The House of Commons condemned this
Republican petition, and ordered the army not to approach nearer than
twenty-five miles of London. A deputation was sent down to Saffron
Walden, where Fairfax summoned a convention of officers to answer them.
These gentlemen, on the mention of being sent to Ireland, said they
must know, before they could decide, what regiments, what commanders
were to go, and whether they were sure of getting their arrears and
their future daily pay. They demanded their arrears and some recompense
for past services. The Commissioners, not being able to answer these
demands, returned and reported to the Commons, mentioning also a
petition in progress in the army. Alarmed at this, the Commons summoned
to their bar some of the principal officers--Lieutenant-General
Hammond, Colonel Robert Hammond, his brother, Colonel Robert Lilburn,
Lieutenant-Colonel Grimes, and Colonel Ireton, Cromwell's son-in-law,
a member of the House; and they voted that three regiments, commanded
by the staunch Presbyterian officers Poyntz, Copley, and Bethell should
remain at home. But what roused the army more than all besides, was a
motion made by Denzil Holles, and carried, that the army's petition,
which was not yet presented, was an improper petition, and that all
who were concerned in it should be proceeded against as enemies to the
State and disturbers of the public peace.

This declaration of the 30th of March was little short of an act of
madness. It could only excite the indignation of a power against
which the Parliament, grown unpopular, and divided against itself, was
but as a reed in a whirlwind. The officers pronounced it "a blot of
infamy" upon them, and the Parliament was glad to attempt to lay the
storm by voting, on the 8th of April, that the regiments of Fairfax,
Cromwell, Rossiter, Whalley, and Graves, should remain in England. A
week afterwards the Commons sent down another deputation, accompanied
by the Earl of Warwick, who harangued the officers earnestly to engage
for Ireland, promising that Major-General Skippon should command them.
Many were pleased with them, but more cried out, "Fairfax and Cromwell!
Give us Fairfax and Cromwell, and then we all go!"

[Illustration: LORD FAIRFAX. (_After the Portrait by Cooper._)]

On the return of the deputation without success, the Commons debated
whether they should not disband the whole army. Holles strongly
recommended it, and that they should give the soldiers six weeks'
pay on disbanding. He thought it would be easy then to engage the
men to go to Ireland under other officers, and that four of those
officers who were regarded as most hostile in this movement should
be summoned to the bar of the House. How miserably he was mistaken
was immediately shown, for a petition was presented that very day
(the 27th of April), signed by Lieutenant-General Hammond, fourteen
colonels and lieutenant-colonels, six majors, and one hundred and
thirty captains, lieutenants, and other commissioned officers. It was
drawn up in energetic language, complaining of the calumnies spread
abroad regarding the army, and enumerating the services they had
done, the sacrifices they had made for the Commonwealth, and praying
for the payment of the soldiers' arrears. It declared, indeed, that
this movement of petitioning had commenced amongst the soldiers, and
that the officers had been induced to take it up to prevent anything
unacceptable to the House from being put forward.

But the petition of the officers did not prevent the petition of the
men. When they saw the Commons did not immediately comply with the
petition of the officers, smarting under the vote of disbandment,
coupled with the withholding of their pay, horse dragoons and infantry
went on their own way. They had lately entered into an association to
make their complaints known. The officers had established a military
council to consult on and take care of the interests of the army, and
the men established a council too. Two commissioned officers, but not
exceeding in rank ensigns, and two private soldiers from each regiment,
met from time to time to discuss the wants of the army. They were
called Adjutators or assistants in the cause, and the word soon became
corrupted into Agitators. Thus there was a sort of army Parliament--the
officers representing the Peers, the soldiers the Commons. The whole
scheme has been, and it is probable very justly, ascribed to the genius
of Cromwell. What confirms the supposition is, that an old friend
of his, Berry, a captain, became its president, and that Ayres and
Desborough, his two particular friends, the latter of whom had married
his sister, were in close communication with the leading officers
amongst the Agitators.

These movements on the part of the army, and the zealous manner in
which Cromwell rose and vindicated the conduct of the soldiers on this
occasion, warning the House not to drive so loyal and meritorious a
body as the army to desperation, caused them to order him, Skippon, and
Fleetwood to go down to the army and quiet its discontent by assuring
the soldiers of pay and indemnification. These three, on the 7th of
May, met the officers, who demanded time to prepare an answer after
consulting their regiments. There appeared to have been doubts and
dissension sown by the Presbyterians, and as the different regiments
came to opposite conclusions, the Parliament thought it might venture
to disband them. On the 25th it was settled that such regiments as
did not volunteer for Ireland should be disbanded at fixed times and
places. Fairfax, pleading indisposition, left the House and hastened
down to the army, and immediately marched it from Saffron Walden to
Bury St. Edmunds. The soldiers declared that they would not disband
till they were paid, and demanded a rendezvous, declaring that if
the officers did not grant it they would hold it themselves. Fairfax
announced this to the Parliament, praying it to adopt soothing
measures; and that, though he was compelled to comply with a measure
out of order, he would do what he could to preserve it. The House, on
the 28th, sent down the Earl of Warwick, the Lord Delaware, Sir Gilbert
Gerrard, and three other members of the Commons, to promise eight
weeks' pay, and to see the disbanding effected. On hearing the terms
from the Commissioners, the soldiers exclaimed:--"Eight weeks' pay!
We want nearer eight times eight!" There was universal confusion; the
men refused to disband without full payment. They hastened to their
rendezvous at Bury St. Edmunds, each man paying fourpence towards the
expenses; and they ordered that the army should draw together, and a
general rendezvous be held on the 4th of June. At Oxford the soldiers
seized the disbanding money as _part_ payment, and demanded the rest,
or no disbanding.

On the 4th and 5th of June, accordingly, the grand rendezvous was held
on Kentford Heath, near Newmarket. They entered into a covenant to see
justice done to one and all, and not till then to listen to any other
orders or terms. Meanwhile, a still more extraordinary scene had taken
place, of which the direct springs may be guessed, but which springs
were so closely concealed that no clever historian could ever lay them
bare. Scarcely was the honourable House of Commons in possession of the
news of the Kentford Heath rendezvous, when it was paralysed by this
still more amazing announcement.

The House of Lords, not liking the proceedings of the army, had ordered
the king for greater safety to be removed from Holmby to Oatlands,
nearer the capital. The army anticipated that move; and by whose orders
no man knows, nor ever will know, Cornet Joyce, of Whalley's regiment,
followed by a strong party of horse, presented himself on the 2nd of
June, a little after midnight, at Holmby House. After surrounding the
house with his troop, said to be one thousand strong, he knocked and
demanded admittance, telling Major-General Brown and Colonel Graves
that he was come to speak to the king. "From whom?" demanded these
officers, awoke from their sleep. "From myself," said Joyce; whereat
they laughed. But Joyce told them it was no laughing matter. They
then advised him to draw off his troops, and in the morning he should
see the Commissioners. Joyce replied that he was not come there to
be advised by them, or to talk to the Commissioners, but to speak to
the king; and speak to him he would, and that soon. At this threat
Brown and Graves bade their soldiers stand to their arms and defend
the place; but the soldiers, instead, threw open the doors, and bade
their old comrades welcome. Joyce then went direct to the chamber of
the Commissioners, and informed them that there was a design to seize
the king, and place him at the head of an army to put down that under
General Fairfax; and that, to prevent another war, he was come to
secure the person of the king, and see that he was not led into further
mischief; for, added the cornet, "there be some who endeavour to pull
down king and people, and set up themselves."

The Commissioners desired him not to disturb the king's sleep, but
to wait till morning, and they would tell his majesty of his arrival
and business. In the morning Joyce found that Brown had contrived to
send off Graves to fetch up the king's guard; and "some of his damning
blades did say and swear they would fetch a party." But Joyce--a stout
fellow for a tailor, which he had been--did not trouble himself about
that, for he knew the guard would not move, and at length insisted on
being admitted to the king himself.

According to Joyce's own account, it was ten o'clock in the evening
again when he was ushered, with two or three of his followers, into
the royal presence. The soldiers took off their hats, and displayed no
rudeness, but a blunt proceeding to business. According to Clarendon,
the cornet told the king that he was sorry to have disturbed his sleep,
but that he must go with him. Charles asked whither. He said to the
army. But where was the army, replied the king. The cornet said they
would show him. His majesty asked by what authority they came. Joyce
said "By this!" and showed him his pistol, and desired his majesty to
cause himself to be dressed, because it was necessary they should make
haste. The king sent for the Commissioners, who asked Joyce whether he
had any order from Parliament. He said no. From the general? No. What,
then, was his authority? He gave the same reply as to the king, by
holding up his pistol. They said they would write to the Parliament to
learn its pleasure, to which Joyce replied, they could do so, but the
king meanwhile must go with him.

Finding that the soldiers sent for would not come, and that the
officers of the guard said that Joyce's troop were not soldiers of one
regiment, but drawn from several regiments, and that Joyce was not
their proper officer, it was clear that there was a general design
in the affair, and the king said he would go with them at six in
the morning. At the hour appointed the king appeared on horseback,
and found the troop all mounted and ready. The king had overnight
demanded of Joyce whether he should be forced to do anything against
his conscience, and whether he should have his servants with him; and
Joyce replied that there was no intention to lay any constraint on
his majesty, only to prevent his being made use of to break up the
army before justice had been done to it. Before starting, Charles
again demanded from Joyce, in the presence of the troop, where was his
commission, enjoining him to deal ingenuously with him, and repeating,
"Where, I ask you again, is your commission?" "Here," said Joyce,
"behind me," pointing to the soldiers. Charles smiled, and said, "It is
a fair commission, and as well written as I have ever seen a commission
written in my life; a company of handsome, proper gentlemen, as I have
seen a great while. But what if I should refuse to go with you? I hope
you would not force me. I am your king; you ought not to lay violent
hands on your king. I acknowledge none to be above me here but God."
He then demanded again whither they proposed to conduct him. Oxford
and Cambridge were named, to both of which places Charles objected.
Newmarket was next named, and to that he consented. So the first day
they rode to Hinchinbrook, and the next to Childersley, near Newmarket.

The news of these proceedings of the army carried consternation into
the two Houses of Parliament, and into the City, where the Presbyterian
party was in full strength. They ordered the immediate arrest of
Cromwell, which they had been intending some time, but they were
informed that he left town the very same morning that Joyce appeared
at Holmby--a significant fact--and was seen riding away with only one
attendant. He reached the headquarters of the army with his horse all
in foam. The House voted to sit all the next day, though it was Sunday,
and have Mr. Marshall to pray for them. Rumour declared that the army
was on its march, and would be there the next day at noon. The House
ordered the Committee of Safety to sit up all night, taking measures
for the protection of the City; the train-bands to be called out, and
all the lines of communication guarded. The next day the shops were
shut, the town was in indescribable confusion, and terror in every
face, as though the army was already there. The Parliament wrote to
Fairfax, commanding that the army should not infringe the order of the
two Houses, by coming within twenty-five miles of London, that the
king should be returned to the care of the Commissioners who attended
him at Holmby, and that Colonel Rossiter's regiment should guard his
person. Fairfax replied that the army had reached St. Albans before he
received their command, but it should proceed no farther; that he had
sent Colonel Whalley with his regiment to meet his majesty on his way
from Holmby, and offered to return him thither, but that he preferred
the air of Newmarket, and that all care should be taken of his person.

[Illustration: CORNET JOYCE'S INTERVIEW WITH CHARLES. (_See p._ 63.)]

In fact, Charles was delighted with the change. He had escaped from
the harsh keeping and the strict regimen of the Presbyterians, whom he
detested, and felt himself, as it were, a king again at the head of
an army: the dissensions now rushing on so hotly between his enemies
wonderfully encouraging his hopes of making friends of the more liberal
party. He was in a condition of greater freedom and respect in the
army than he had been at Holmby: there was a larger number of troops
and the officers were superior. He was relieved from the presence of
Cornet Joyce. All restraint being taken off from persons resorting to
him, he saw every day the faces of many that were grateful to him. No
sooner did he ask for the attendance of his own chaplains than those
he named (Drs. Sheldon, Morley, Sanderson, and Hammond) were sent for,
and performed the service regularly, no one being forbidden to attend.
The king was left to his leisure and his friends, only removing with
the army as it moved, and in all places he was as well provided for
and accommodated as he had been in any progress. The best gentlemen,
Clarendon admits, of the several counties through which he passed,
daily resorted to him without distinction. He was attended by some of
his old trusty servants in the places nearest his person. On hearing of
his present condition, the queen sent Sir John Berkeley from Paris,
and his old groom of the chambers, who had been living at Rouen, to be
with him again, and they were freely admitted by Cromwell and Ireton.
"Many good officers," says Clarendon, "who had served his majesty
faithfully, were civilly received by the officers of the army, and
lived quietly in their quarters, which they could not do anywhere
else, which raised a great reputation to the army throughout England,
and as much reproach upon Parliament." This was raised still more by
the army's address to Parliament, desiring that "care might be taken
for settling the king's rights, according to the several professions
they had made in their declarations; and that the royal party might
be treated with more candour and less rigour." Even the most devoted
of Royalists, Sir Philip Warwick, says, "The deep and bloody-hearted
Independents all this while used the king very civilly, admitting
several of his servants and some of his chaplains to attend him, and
officiate by the service-book."

[Illustration: FAIRFAX HOUSE, PUTNEY. (_From a Photograph by W. Field &
Co., Putney._)]

The Commons ordered all officers to attend their regiments, and sent
down Commissioners to inform the army of the votes of the two Houses.
The army gave the Commissioners such a reception as no Commissioners
had ever witnessed before. Twenty-one thousand men had assembled to
a rendezvous on Triploe Heath, near Royston; and the General and
the Commissioners rode to each regiment, to acquaint them with the
Parliamentary votes as to their instalment of pay, their disbanding,
and their not approaching within twenty-five miles of London. The
answer was sent up in shouts of "Justice! justice!" A petition also
from the well-affected people of Essex was delivered on the field to
the General in presence of the Commissioners, against the disbanding,
declaring "that the Commonwealth had many enemies, who watched for such
an opportunity to destroy the good people." A memorial was, moreover,
drawn up and signed by the General and all the chief officers, to
the Lord Mayor and Corporation of London, warning them against false
representations of the intentions of the army, for that the war being
at an end, all that they desired and prayed for was that the peace
of the kingdom should be settled according to the declarations of
Parliament before the army was called out, and that being done, the
army should be paid before it was disbanded.

So far from pacifying the Parliament, these proceedings alarmed it
infinitely more, and it issued an order that the army should not
come within forty-five miles of the capital. On its part, the army
collected addresses from Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, and the surrounding
counties, praying the purgation of the House from all such members as
were disqualified from sitting there by corruption, delinquency, abuse
of the State, or undue election; and on the 16th of June, from its
headquarters at St. Albans, the army formally impeached of high treason
eleven of the most active Presbyterian members. This impeachment was
presented to the House by twelve officers of the army--colonels,
lieutenant-colonels, majors, and captains. Within a few days the
General and officers sent a letter to the House, informing it that they
would appoint proper persons to conduct the impeachment, and make good
their charges; and desired the House to suspend the accused forthwith,
as it was not fitting that those persons who had done their best to
prejudice the army should sit as judges of their own actions.

This, says Clarendon, was an arrow out of their own quiver, which the
Commons did not expect; and though it was a legitimate consequence of
the impeachments of Strafford, Laud, and others, they endeavoured to
set it at defiance. The Parliament and its army were, in fact, come to
the pass which the brave old Royalist, Sir Jacob Astley, had foreseen
when he surrendered his regiment at Stowe, in 1646:--"You have done
your work, my masters, and may go and play, unless you will fall out
amongst yourselves."

The army, to settle the matter, marched from St. Albans to Uxbridge,
and at that sight the eleven members withdrew from the House of
Commons, and the Commons assumed a modest and complying behaviour,
voting the army under Fairfax to be the real army of England and worthy
of all respect. They sent certain proposals to Fairfax, which induced
him to remove his headquarters from Uxbridge to Wycombe. The eleven
members, looking on this as a degree of submission to Parliament,
immediately plucked up courage, and Holles and the rest appeared in
their places, preferring charges in return against the officers, and
demanding a fair trial. But they soon perceived their mistake, and,
soliciting the Speaker's leave of absence and his passport to go out of
the kingdom, disappeared.

The struggle between the army and Parliament--that is, between the
Presbyterian and Independent interests--was all this time raging.
For six weeks the army was advancing or retiring, according as the
Parliament acted; the Parliament only giving way through intimidation.
According as affairs stood, the City was either peaceful or in alarm,
now shutting its shops, now carrying on much negotiation; the army
lying still near, and paid more regularly, out of terror, by the
Parliament. At length the army had so far succeeded as to have the
insulting declaration of Holles--"the blot of ignominy"--erased
from the journals of the House, and the ordinance of the 4th of
May--procured by Holles--for the placing of the militia of the City
in more exclusively Presbyterian hands--revoked. But towards the end
of July the strong Presbyterian element in London was again in such
ferment that it forgot its terrors of the army, and proceeded to daring
extremities. The Presbyterian faction demanded that conventicles--that
is, the meeting-houses of all classes, except Presbyterians--should be
closed, and called on the citizens to meet in Guildhall to hear the
Covenant read, and sign an engagement--soldiers, sailors, citizens, and
apprentices--to drive away the army and bring the king to Westminster,
and make a treaty with him. A hundred thousand signatures were put
to this paper, and had the courage been half as great as the bluster
the army had been swept to destruction. On the 26th of July, a few
days afterwards, a vast rabble surrounded the Houses of Parliament,
calling on both Lords and Commons to restore the order regarding
the City militia; they crowded into the Houses with their hats on,
crying, "Vote! vote!" and their numbers keeping the doors open. Under
this intimidation both Lords and Commons voted the restoration of the
Presbyterian ordinance for the change of the militia, and adjourned to
Friday.

On Friday the two Houses met, but were astonished to find that their
Speakers had fled, accompanied by several members of both Houses, and
were gone to the army. It was found that Sir Henry Vane, the Earl of
Northumberland, the Earl of Warwick, and other Lords and Commoners
were gone. Had it been only Sir Henry Vane and the Independents who
had gone, it would have astonished nobody; but neither Lenthall, the
Speaker of the Commons, nor the Earl of Manchester, the Speaker of
the Lords, was suspected of any great leaning to the army, whilst
Warwick was a staunch Presbyterian, and Northumberland so much in
the favour of that party as to have the care of the royal children.
This circumstance showed the violence of the mob which had forced
Parliament, and rendered moderate men resolved to escape rather than
submit to be its puppets. There were no less than fifteen Lords and a
hundred Commoners who had thus resented mob intimidation.

On making this lamentable discovery, the two Houses elected temporary
Speakers, and issued orders forbidding the army to advance, recalling
the eleven fugitive members, and ordered Massey, Waller, and Poyntz to
call out the militia and defend the City.

No sooner had Fairfax heard the news of these proceedings than he
instantly sent the king to Hampton Court, and marched from Bedford to
Hounslow Heath, where he ordered a general rendezvous of the whole
army. On Hounslow Heath, at the appointed rendezvous, the Speakers
of the two Houses, with their maces, and attended by the fugitive
Lords and Commons, stated to the general that they had not freedom in
Westminster, but were in danger of their lives from tumult, and claimed
the protection of the army. The general and the officers received the
Speakers and members with profound respect, and assured them they
would reinstate them in their proper places, or perish in the attempt.
Nothing, in fact, could have been such a godsend to the army; for,
besides their own grievances, they had the grievances of the coerced
members to redress, and the sanctity of Parliament to defend. They
ordered the most careful accommodation for the comfort of the members,
and a guard to attend them, consulting them on all their measures.
Fairfax quartered his army about Hounslow, Brentford, Twickenham, and
the adjacent villages, at the same time ordering Colonel Rainsborough
to cross the Thames at Hampton Court with a brigade of horse and foot
and cannon, and to secure Southwark and the works which covered the end
of London Bridge.

Meanwhile, never was London in more terrible confusion. The Commons,
having no mace of their own, sent for the City mace. The colonels were
in all haste calling out the militia. On Saturday and Monday, August
1 and 2, the shops were all shut, nothing going on but enlisting
and mustering. St. James's Fields were in a stir with drilling;
news constantly coming of the approach of the army. "Massey," says
Whitelock, "sent out scouts to Brentford; but ten men of the army beat
thirty of his, and took a flag from them. The City militia and Common
Council sat late, and a great number of people attended at Guildhall.
When a scout came in and brought news that the army made a halt, or
other good intelligence, they cried, 'One and all!' But if the scouts
brought word that the army was advancing, then they would cry as loud,
'Treat! treat! treat!' and thus they spent the night."

Tuesday, August the 3rd, was a fearful day. The people of Southwark
declared that they would not fight against the army, and went in crowds
to Guildhall, demanding peace, at which Poyntz lost all patience, drew
his sword, and slashed many of them, some mortally.

The Southwarkers kept their word, for they received Rainsborough
and his troops; the militia openly fraternised with the soldiers,
shaking hands with them through the gates, and abandoned to them the
works which protected the City. Rainsborough took possession, without
opposition, of all the forts and works on that side of the river from
Southwark to Gravesend. In the morning the authorities of the City,
finding that Southwark was in possession of the army, and the City gate
on that side in their hands, were completely prostrated and hastened to
make their submission. Poyntz, accustomed to conquest in the field, and
the hardihood of the Presbyterian soldiers, was filled with contempt
for these cringing, cowering citizens. What! had they not ten thousand
men in arms, a loan of ten thousand pounds arranged and orders to
raise auxiliary troops to the amount of eighteen regiments? Had they
not plenty of ammunition and arms in the Tower, whence they had drawn
four hundred barrels of gunpowder and other material for present
defence? But all availed not; the citizens hastened to lay themselves
and the City at the feet of Fairfax. He had fixed his headquarters
at Hammersmith, but he met the civic authorities at Holland House,
Kensington, where he dictated the following conditions:--That they
should abandon the Parliament now sitting and the eleven impeached
members; should restore the militia to the Independents; surrender
all their forts, including the Tower; recall their declarations, and
conduct themselves peaceably.

On Friday, the 6th of August, Fairfax entered the City, preceded by
a regiment of infantry and another of cavalry. He was on horseback,
attended by his body-guards and a crowd of gentlemen. A long train
of carriages, containing the fugitive Speakers and members (Lords
and Commons), followed, and then another regiment of cavalry. The
soldiers marched three abreast, with boughs of laurel in their hats.
The late turbulent multitudes completed their shame by raising forced
acclamations as they passed. Fairfax thus proceeded through Hyde Park,
where the Corporation met him, and offered him a great gold cup,
which he curtly declined, and so rode on to the Houses of Parliament,
where he replaced the Speakers in their respective chairs, and the
members in their old places. Not one of the Lords who had remained,
except the Earl of Pembroke, ventured to appear, and he declared that
he considered the proceedings since the departure of the Speakers as
null. No sooner were the Speakers in their places than Parliament voted
thanks to the general and the army; made Fairfax commander of all the
forces in England and Wales, and Constable of the Tower. It ordered
a gratuity of a month's pay for the army, and that the City militia
should be divided, and Southwark, Westminster, and the Tower Hamlets
should command their own. The Lords voted all Acts of Parliament from
the departure of the Speakers, on the 26th of June, to their return on
the 6th of August, void; but the resolution did not pass the Commons,
where there was a large body of Presbyterians, without much opposition.

The eleven impeached members fled, and were allowed to escape into
France, whereupon they were voted guilty of high treason, as well
as the Lord Mayor and four aldermen of London, two officers of the
train-band, and the Earls of Suffolk, Lincoln, and Middleton, the
Lords Willoughby, Hunsdon, Berkeley, and Maynard. The civic officers
were sent to the Tower. The City was ordered to find the one hundred
thousand pounds voted for the army. Fairfax distributed different
regiments about Whitehall and the Houses of Parliament for their
protection, and others in the Strand, Holborn, and Southwark, to keep
the City quiet. His headquarters were moved to Putney, with forces
at Chelsea and Fulham. On Sunday he and the officers attended the
preaching of Hugh Peters, the army chaplain, at Putney Church, and thus
the Independents were in full power, and the Presbyterians signally
humbled.

Before, and also whilst, these events had been taking place, the army
had made overtures to the king for peace and a solid settlement of
the kingdom. As we have seen, from the moment that the king came into
their hands, they had treated him in a far different style to the
Presbyterians. He seemed, in his freedom of action, in the admission
of his children and friends to his society, in the respect and even
friendliness shown him to feel himself a king again. There were many
reasons why the Independents should desire to close with the king.
Though they had the army with them, they knew that the Presbyterians
were far more numerous. London was vehemently Presbyterian, and the
Scots were ready to back that party, because essentially the same
in religion as themselves. The Independents and all the Dissenters
who ranged themselves under their banners were anxious for religious
liberty; the Scottish and English Presbyterians had no more idea of
such a thing as belonging to Christianity than had the Catholics or the
Church of England as represented by Charles and Laud.

From the moment that the king was received by the army, he seems to
have won on the goodwill of the officers. Fairfax, on meeting him
on his way from Holmby, kissed his hand, and treated him with all
the deference due to the sovereign. Cromwell and Ireton, though they
did not so far condescend, and kept a degree of distant reserve, as
remembering that they had to treat Charles as an enemy, were soon
softened, and Cromwell sent him assurances of his attachment, and of
his desire to see his affairs set right. Many of the officers openly
expressed commiseration of his misfortunes, and admiration of his real
piety, and his amiable domestic character. It was not long before
such relations were established with him, and with his confidential
friends Berkeley, Ashburnham, and Legge, that secret negotiations were
commenced for a settlement of all the difficulties between him and his
people. The officers made him several public addresses expressive of
their sincere desire to see a pacification effected; and Fairfax, to
prepare the way, addressed a letter to the two Houses, repelling the
aspersion cast upon the army of its being hostile to the monarchy, and
avowing that "tender, equitable, and moderate dealings towards him, his
family, and his former adherents," should be adopted to heal the feuds
of the nation.

[Illustration: LORD CLARENDON. (_After the Portrait by Sir Peter
Lely._)]

It has been the fashion to consider Cromwell as a consummate hypocrite,
and to regard all that he did as a part acted for the ultimate
attainment of his own ends. This is the view which Clarendon has taken
of him; but, whatever he might do at a later period, everything shows
that at this time both he and his brother officers were most really
in earnest, and, could Charles have been brought to subscribe to any
terms except such as gave up the nation to his uncontrolled will, at
this moment his troubles would have been at an end, and he would have
found himself on a constitutional throne, with every means of honour
and happiness in his power. Nothing more convincingly demonstrates this
than the conditions which the Parliament submitted to him. They, in
fact, greatly resembled the celebrated conditions of peace offered at
Uxbridge, with several propositions regarding Parliament and taxation,
which mark a wonderfully improved political knowledge and liberality
in the officers. They did not even insist on the abolition of the
hierarchy, but merely stipulated for the toleration of other opinions,
taking away all penalties for not attending church, and for attending
what were called conventicles. The command of the army by Parliament
was to be restricted to ten years; only five of the Royalist adherents
were to be excluded from pardon, and some less objectionable mode
of protecting the State against Catholic designs than the present
oppressive laws against recusants was to be devised. Parliaments were
to continue two years, unless dissolved earlier by their own consent;
and were to sit every year for a prescribed term, or a shorter one, if
business permitted. Rotten boroughs, or such as were insignificant,
were to be disfranchised, and a greater number of members returned
from the counties in proportion to the amount of rates; and all that
regarded election of members or reforms of the Commons should belong
exclusively to the Commons. There were very judicious regulations for
the nomination of sheriffs and of magistrates; the excise was to be
taken from all articles of life at once, and from all other articles
very shortly: the land-tax was to be fairly and equally apportioned;
the irritating maintenance of the clergy by tithes was to be done away
with; suits at law were to be made less expensive; all men to be made
liable for their debts; and insolvent debtors who had surrendered all
their property to their creditors were to be discharged.

The whole project was decidedly creditable to the officers of the army.
Charles's own friends and advisers were charmed with it, and flattered
themselves that at length they saw a prospect of ending all troubles;
but they were quickly undeceived, and struck down in dumb astonishment
by Charles rejecting them.

Charles was still the same man; he was at the same moment secretly
listening to the overtures of the Scottish Commissioners, who were
jealous of the army, and instead of seizing the opportunity to be
once more a powerful and beloved king, he was flattering himself with
the old idea that he would bring the two great factions "to extirpate
each other." Sir John Berkeley, his earnest adviser, says:--"What
with having so concurring a second as Mr. Ashburnham, and what with
the encouraging messages of Lord Lauderdale and others from the
Presbyterian party and the city of London, who pretended to despise
the army, and to oppose them to death, his Majesty seemed very much
elated; inasmuch that when the proposals were solemnly sent to him,
and his concurrence most humbly and earnestly desired, his Majesty,
not only to the astonishment of Ireton and the rest, but even to mine,
entertained them with very tart and bitter discourses, saying sometimes
that he would have no man suffer for his sake, and that he repented of
nothing so much as the Bill against the Lord Strafford, which, though
most true, was unpleasant for them to hear; that he would have the
Church established according to law, by the proposals. They replied it
was none of their work to do it; that it was enough for them to waive
the point, and, they hoped, enough for his Majesty, since he had waived
the government of the Church in Scotland. His Majesty said that he
hoped God had forgiven him that sin, and repeated often, 'You cannot be
without me; you will fall to ruin if I do not sustain you!'"

It was still the old man; the old intolerable, incorrigible talk.
He could not give up a single proposition to save all the rest--his
life, his family, his crown, and kingdom. The officers looked at one
another in amazement; the king's friends in consternation. Sir John
Berkeley whispered in his ear that his Majesty seemed to have some
secret strength that they did not know of, on which Charles seemed to
recollect himself, and spoke more softly; but it was too late, for
Colonel Rainsborough, who was least inclined for the pacification,
rode to the army and made known the king's obstinacy. The agitators
rushed together in crowds, and, excessively chagrined at the rejection
of such terms, burst into the bedchamber of Lord Lauderdale, whom they
suspected of having thus perverted the king's mind, and compelled him,
in spite of his standing in his position as Commissioner from the
Estates of Scotland, to rise, and get off back again to Edinburgh.

At this crisis the alarm at the proceedings in London, and the march
upon it just related, took place. Still the officers did not cease
their exertions to persuade the king to adopt the proposals; but he
was waiting to see what turn affairs would take, and listening at the
same time to the Scots and the Irish Catholics. This idea was so little
concealed that, talking with Ireton, he let slip the observation,
"I shall play my game as well as I can." On which Ireton replied,
"If your Majesty has a game to play, you must give us leave also to
play ours." As the bluster of the City seemed to subside before the
approaching army, Charles sent Berkeley to ask the officers, "If he
should accept the proposals, what would ensue?" They said, "We will
offer them to the Parliament." "And if they should reject them, what
then?" The rest of the officers hesitating to answer such a question,
Rainsborough said bluntly, "If they won't agree, we will make them!" to
which all the rest instantly assented. Berkeley carried this decisive
answer to Charles, but there, he says, he had very different work; he
was just as unyielding as ever. Cromwell and Ireton then begged that
though the king would not sign the proposals, he would at least write a
kind letter to the army, which should show the country that they were
doing nothing contrary to his Majesty's mind. With the co-operation
of Berkeley, Ashburnham, and others of the king's friends, they met
at Windsor, and drew up such a letter, but they could not prevail on
him to sign it till the City had yielded, and it was too late. Still
the officers, to prove that their triumph had not altered in the least
their desire for agreement with the king, again voted the proposals
as their terms of settlement. Charles renewed his discussion with
them, and was every day sending messages by Ashburnham to Cromwell and
Ireton, yet never coming nearer; but, on the other hand, bringing those
officers into suspicion with a new and fanatic party which had arisen,
which originally called themselves Rationalists, but soon after
Levellers.

[Illustration: THE CHILDREN OF CHARLES I.

FROM THE PICTURE BY MISS MARGARET I. DICKSEE, IN THE OLDHAM ART GALLERY]

The Levellers were, in fact, a set of men amongst whom Lilburne, now
Colonel John Lilburne, was a leading character. They had imbibed
from the Old Testament, which was their favourite study, a spirit of
Republicanism combined with a wild fanatic style of language. They
found in the remarks on monarchs in the Scriptures, on the election of
Saul by Israel, a clear denunciation of all kings, and they declared
they would no longer seek after kings, who aimed only at absolute
power; nor after lords, who sought only honours and places; but they
would have a free government by a Parliament, and a free religion. They
drew up a paper called "The Case of the Army," and another called "The
Agreement of the People," which were presented to the general and the
Agitators of the eleven regiments. Religious Republicanism was abroad
in the army, and they drew up a new constitution, at which a biennial
Parliament, with six monthly sessions, a widely-extended franchise,
and a more equally-distributed representation, was at the head. There
were to be neither king nor lords in their system. Colonels Pride and
Rainsborough supported their views: Cromwell and Ireton strenuously
opposed them. They were, therefore, immediately the objects of attack,
and represented as being in a close and secret compact with the king,
the Ahab of the nation, to betray the people. Lilburne was busily
employed in writing and printing violent denunciations in flaming
style, and strongly garnished with Bible terms. Parliament denounced
the doctrines of the Levellers as destructive of all government, and
ordered the authors to be prosecuted.

Whilst this fanatic effervescence had broken out in the army, the
Presbyterians in Parliament and the Scottish Commissioners made one
effort more for the recovery of their ascendency. Regarding the
religious toleration proposed in the army conditions as something
horrible and monstrously wicked, they drew up fresh proposals of their
own, and presented them to the king. If Charles could not endure the
army proposals, he was not likely to accept those of the Presbyterians,
who gave no place to his own Church at all; and he told them that he
liked those of the army better. This answer Berkeley showed to the
officers of the army before it was sent; they highly approved of it,
and promised to do all they could in the House to get an order voted
for a personal treaty, "and," Berkeley adds, "to my understanding,
performed it, for both Cromwell and Ireton, with Vane and all their
friends, seconded with great resolution this desire of his Majesty."
Cromwell, indeed, he says, spoke so zealously in its favour that it
only increased, both in the House and out of it, the suspicion of
his having made a compact with the king to restore him. The more the
officers argued for a personal treaty, the more the Presbyterians in
the House opposed it; but at length a resolution was carried for it. It
was thought that it would occupy twenty days, but it went on for two
months, and came to nothing--other and strange events occurring.

The Levellers, after this display of zeal on the part of Cromwell,
vowed that they would kill both him and the king, whom they not only
styled an Ahab, a man of blood, and the everlasting obstacle to peace
and liberty, but demanded his head as the cause of the murder of
thousands of free-born Englishmen. Cromwell declared that his life
was not safe in his own quarters, and we are assured that Lilburne
and another Agitator named Wildman had agreed to assassinate him as
a renegade and traitor to liberty. To check this wild and dangerous
spirit in the army, Cromwell and Ireton recommended that it should be
drawn closer together, and thus more under the immediate discipline of
its chief officers. This was agreed upon, and a general rendezvous was
appointed to take place at Ware on the 16th of November.

During the interval Charles was royally lodged at Hampton Court, and
was freely permitted to have his children with him, but all the time
he was at his usual work of plotting. The Marquis of Ormond, having
surrendered his command in Ireland to the Parliament, was come hither;
and Lord Capel, who had been one of Charles's most distinguished
commanders, being also permitted by Parliament to return from abroad,
a scheme was laid, whilst Charles was amusing the army and Parliament
with the discussion of the "Proposals," that the next spring, through
the Scottish Commissioners, who were also in the plot, a Scottish
army should enter England forty thousand strong, and calling on the
Presbyterians to join them should march forward. At the same time
Ormond should lead an army from Ireland, whilst Capel summoned the rest
of the king's friends in England to join the converging forces, and
plant the king on the throne. But this wholesale conspiracy could not
escape the secret agents of Cromwell; the whole was revealed to him,
and he bitterly upbraided Ashburnham with the incurable duplicity of
his master, who, whilst he was negotiating with the army, was planning
its destruction.

From this moment, whatever was the cause, and the preceding incidents
appear both certain and sufficient, Cromwell, Ireton, and the army
in general, came to the conclusion that all attempts to bring so
double-faced and intriguing a person to honourable and enduring
terms were vain; that if he were restored to power, he would use it
to destroy every one who had been compelled to oppose his despotic
plans; if he were not restored, they would be in a perpetual state
of plottings, alarms, and disquietudes, destructive of all comfort
or prosperity to the nation. As the officers drew back from further
intercourse with the king, the menaces of the Levellers became
louder; and there were not wanting persons to carry these threats to
the king. He saw the Levellers growing in violence, and in numbers;
in fact, Leveller and Agitator were synonymous terms; the infection
had spread through the greater part of the army. The fact of the
officers having been friendly with him, had made them suspicious to
the men; they had driven Ireton from the council, and there were loud
threats of impeaching Cromwell. Several regiments were in a state
of insubordination, and it was doubtful whether, at the approaching
rendezvous, Fairfax could maintain the discipline of the army. The
reports of the proceedings of the Levellers (who really threatened to
seize his person to prevent the Parliament or officers agreeing with
him) and their truculent manifestoes, were all diligently carried to
Charles by the Scottish Commissioners, who, according to Berkeley,
"were the first that presented his dangers to him." He was assured by
Mr. Ackworth that Colonel Rainsborough, the favourite of the Levellers,
meant to kill him; and Clarendon says that "every day he received
little billets or letters, secretly conveyed to him without any name,
which advertised him of wicked designs upon his life;" many, he adds,
who repaired to him brought the same advice from men of unquestionable
sincerity.

Charles resolved to escape, and, as he was in some cases as religiously
scrupulous of his word as he was in others reckless of it, he withdrew
his promise not to attempt to escape, on the plea that he found
himself quite as rigorously watched as if he were not on honour.
Colonel Whalley, who commanded his guard, at once ordered it to be
doubled, and dismissed all the king's servants except Legge, refusing
further admittance to him. Notwithstanding this, he found means of
communicating with Ashburnham and Berkeley, and consulted with them
on the means of escape, and the place to escape to. He suggested the
City, and Ashburnham advised him to go to the house of the Lord Mayor,
in London, there to meet the Scottish Commissioners, agree with them
on their last propositions, and then send for the Lords. Berkeley
disapproved of this, believing they would not bring over the Commons;
and then Ashburnham recommended the king to flee to the Isle of Wight,
and throw himself on the generosity of Colonel Hammond, the governor
there. This, he says, he did, because Colonel Hammond had a few days
before told him he was going down to his government, "because he found
the army was resolved to break all promises with the king, and that he
would have nothing to do with such perfidious actions."

This seems to have inspired a belief in these men that Hammond was
secretly in favour of the king, strengthened, no doubt, by the fact
that Dr. Hammond, the king's chaplain, was his uncle, and had lately
introduced him to his Majesty as an ingenuous and repentant youth, and,
notwithstanding his post, of real loyalty. They forgot that Hammond had
another uncle, Lieutenant-General Hammond, who was as democratic as the
chaplain was loyal, and was a great patron of the Adjutators. They seem
to have reckoned as little on the honour of the young man, who was a
gentleman and officer, and had married a daughter of John Hampden.

There were other schemes, one to seek refuge in Sir John Oglander's
House, in the Isle of Wight; and there was a talk of a ship being
ordered to be somewhere ready for him; but when the escape was made,
it appeared to have been just as ill contrived as all the rest of
Charles's escapes. Ashburnham and Berkeley had contrived to meet the
king in the evening in the gallery of Hampton Court, and settled the
mode of escape. It was the king's custom, on the Mondays and Thursdays,
to write letters for the foreign post, and in the evenings he left his
bedchamber between five and six o'clock and went to prayers, and thence
to supper. On one of these evenings, Thursday, the 11th of November,
Whalley, finding the king much later than usual in leaving his chamber,
became uneasy, went thither, and found him gone. On the table he had
left some letters, one to the Parliament, another to the Commissioners,
and a third to Colonel Whalley. In the letter to the Parliament he
said liberty was as necessary to kings as others; that he had endured
a long captivity in the hope that it might lead to a good peace, but
that, as it did not, he had withdrawn himself; that, wherever he might
be, he should earnestly desire a satisfactory agreement without further
bloodshed, and was ready to break through his cloud of retirement and
show himself the father of his country whenever he could be heard with
honour, freedom, and safety.

[Illustration: CARISBROOKE CASTLE, ISLE OF WIGHT. (_From a photograph
by F. G. O. Stuart, Southampton._)]

It appeared that he had escaped by way of Paradise, a place so called
in the gardens; his cloak was found lying in the gallery, and there
were tramplings about a back gate leading to the waterside. Legge
accompanied him down the backstairs, and Ashburnham and Berkeley joined
them at the gate. The night was dark and stormy, which favoured their
escape. They crossed the river at Thames Ditton, and made for Sutton,
in Hampshire, where they had horses in readiness. Why they had not
provided horses at a nearer point does not appear. In the night they
lost their way in the forest, and reaching Sutton only at daybreak, and
hearing that a county committee on Parliamentary business was sitting
there, they got out their horses, and rode away towards Southampton.

That night Cromwell was aroused from his bed at Putney with a startling
express that the king had escaped. He at once despatched a letter to
the Speaker, Lenthall, dated twelve o'clock, with the tidings for
Parliament, and the news was announced next morning to both Houses. The
confusion may be imagined; orders were issued to close all ports; and
those who concealed the place of the king's retreat, or harboured his
person, were declared guilty of high treason, and menaced with loss of
all their estate, and with death without mercy. On the 13th of November
Whalley gave a narrative to the Lords of the particulars of his escape
as far as known. It appeared that the repeated howling of a greyhound
in the king's chamber first assured them that he could not be there.
However, on Monday, the 15th, a letter from Colonel Hammond, from the
Isle of Wight, much to the relief of Parliament and army, announced
that the absconded king was safe in his hands at Carisbrooke Castle.

Charles was at first treated by Colonel Hammond with great leniency,
and again employed the time on his hands in negotiation. As the army
had restored unity to itself, he sought to obtain its concurrence to a
personal treaty, and sent Berkeley to Fairfax, Cromwell, and Ireton,
at Windsor. On his way there he fell in with Cornet Joyce, who carried
off the king from Holmby, who informed him of an ominous proposition
discussed by the Agitators, namely, to bring the king to trial; not, he
said, with any design of putting him to death, but to prove on evidence
who really bore the blame of the war. This prelude too truly prefigured
the interview itself. Fairfax, Cromwell, and Ireton received Berkeley
with severe aspects and distant coldness, and told him that they were
but the servants of the Parliament, and referred him to it. He was not
prevented by this, however, from sending a secret message to Cromwell,
reminding him of his promises, and letting him know that he had secret
instructions from the king to him. But Cromwell had now had convincing
proofs of the king's duplicity; he refused to receive the letters,
informed Berkeley that he would do all in his power towards effecting
a real peace, but was not disposed to risk his head for the king's
sake. Repulsed here, Charles applied to Parliament, which sent him
four propositions as the basis of agreement, namely, that his Majesty
should concur in the Bill for settling the militia; should recall all
the proclamations, oaths, etc., against Parliament; should disqualify
all peers made since the renewal of the Great Seal from sitting in
the House of Peers; and should pass a Bill for the adjournment of
Parliament being placed in the power of the Houses themselves. These
Bills were sent by Commissioners to Carisbrooke; but the Scottish
Commissioners, who dreaded the acceptance of them as rendering the
English Parliament independent of the League and Covenant, hastened
there, too, with a modified treaty of their own. Charles, thus
encouraged, refused the four Bills; the Commissioners kissed hands
and returned, and Charles signed the proposals of the Scots, which
guaranteed the independence of their own religion, on condition of
finding an army of forty thousand men for the restoration of the king.

Charles was not left long in ignorance of the effect of his refusal of
the Parliamentary proposals, and of the discovery of his secret treaty
with the Scots. Colonel Hammond received orders to take every measure
for the safe keeping of the king, and for preventing the lurking of
suspicious vessels in Southampton Water, as it was known that a ship
had been engaged by the queen to carry off Charles and land him at
Berwick, in readiness to co-operate with the Scottish movement. Hammond
dismissed Ashburnham, Legge, and Berkeley, with all other Royalists,
from the island; sent away a vessel, supposed to be the very one
engaged by the queen; and put the king under strict surveillance and a
double guard. He was no longer an apparently free guest, but a close
prisoner.

This treatment only doubled his determination to escape. Ashburnham,
Berkeley, and Legge, though banished from the island, kept
saddle-horses on the coast ready, in case of the king's escaping from
Carisbrooke; and his friends from all quarters corresponded with him,
and their letters were conveyed to him by Henry Firebrace, who was in
some employment in the castle, and was occasionally engaged by one of
the warders to take his place before the king's chamber-door, when he
put the correspondence entrusted to him through a crevice of the door.
The whole island resented the incarceration of the king, and there were
loud threats of rising and liberating him by force. One Captain Burley
was mad enough to make the attempt. At midnight a drum was beaten.
Burley put himself at the head of a rabble in Newport, without, as
reported, having a single musket among them, and was speedily taken and
executed.

On the 3rd of January, 1648, the two Houses discussed the relations
with the king, and in the Commons the plainest Republican sentiments
were avowed. The refusal of the four Bills by the king was deemed
convincing proof that no possibility was left of ever coming to
agreement with him. Sir Thomas Wroth declared that kings of late had
conducted themselves more like inmates of Bedlam than anything else,
and that he did not care what government was set up if it were not
by kings or devils. Ireton contended that the relation of king and
subjects implied mutual bonds and duties; the king was to protect the
people, and the people to maintain the king in his duty, but that
Charles had abandoned his duty, had ceased to protect his people,
nay, had made war on them, and therefore had annulled the compact;
that, seeing this, the army was resolved to stand by the Parliament
for the establishment of national right. Cromwell, after many had
proceeded in a like strain, asserted that it was time to fulfil the
wearied expectation of the people, and to show that they could govern
and defend the kingdom by their own power, and to decide that there
was nothing to be hoped from a man whose heart God had hardened in
obstinacy. In fact, in Parliament, almost as much as in the army, a
large party had come to the conclusion that it was odious in the sight
of God to be governed by a king.

The result was a vote that Parliament would make no further
applications or addresses to the king, nor receive any message from
him, except by full consent of both Houses, under penalty of high
treason. The Lords concurred in the vote, and a public declaration was
circulated to that effect; and it was also agreed that the Committee of
Public Safety should again sit and act alone, without the aid of any
foreign coadjutors. This was a plain hint to the Scots that Parliament
knew of their late treaty. Hitherto they had formed part of the
Committee of both kingdoms, so that they had shared the government of
England. This was withdrawn; the Scots therefore demanded the payment
of the last one hundred thousand pounds due to them by the treaty of
evacuation, and announced their intention to retire on receiving it.

This decided step of Parliament, and the rigour with which Charles
was guarded, put the Scots, the Presbyterians, the Royalists all on
the alert. They stirred up everywhere a feeling of commiseration for
him, as harshly and arbitrarily used; it was represented that the
vote of non-address amounted to a declaration that all attempts at
reconciliation were at an end, and that the Independents meant to give
effect to the doctrines of the army and put the king to death. These
efforts were productive of a rapidly and widely spreading sentiment in
the king's favour, and soon formidable insurrections were on foot. The
king himself omitted no means of attempting his escape. By his plans
his second son, the Duke of York, had made his escape from the care
of the Earl of Northumberland in female attire, and got to Holland.
Towards the end of March Charles tried to escape out of the window
of his chamber. A silken cord was prepared to let him down; and, to
prove the safety of the descent, Firebrace forced himself between the
iron stanchions of the window and let himself down; but the king, in
essaying to follow, stuck fast, and, after violent efforts, found it
impossible to get through. Cromwell announced to Hammond, in a letter
still extant, that Parliament was informed that aquafortis had been
sent down to corrode this obstructing bar; that the attempt was to be
renewed during the coming dark nights, and that Captain Titus and some
others about the king were not to be trusted. At the same time he
informed him that the Commons, in reward of his vigilance and services
in securing and keeping the king, had raised his pay from ten to twenty
pounds a week, had voted him one thousand pounds, and settled upon him
and his heirs five hundred pounds per annum.

The reaction in favour of the king now began to discover itself on
all sides. Charles published an appeal to the nation against the
proceedings of Parliament, which seemed to cut off all further hope
of accommodation. Parliament issued a counter-statement, and numerous
rejoinders were the consequence--the most able from the pen of Hyde,
the Chancellor, and Dr. Bates, the king's physician. Whilst these
elements of strife were brewing in England, the Duke of Hamilton,
released from Pendennis Castle and restored to the favour of the king,
returned to Scotland, and the Marquis of Ormond to Ireland, to muster
forces to operate with a simultaneous rising in England. The Scottish
muster proceeded with vigour, though stoutly opposed by the Duke of
Argyll, and the work of revolt commenced in March, in Wales. Poyer, the
Mayor of Pembroke, and governor of the castle, declared for the king,
and at the summons of Fairfax refused to yield up his command. Powell
and Langherne, two officers of disbanded regiments, joined him, and
many of their old soldiers followed them. The Royalists ran to arms,
eight thousand men were soon afoot in the Principality, Chepstow and
Carnarvon were surprised, and Colonel Fleming was killed. Cromwell
was despatched to reduce these forces at the head of five regiments.
He quickly recovered Carnarvon and Chepstow, defeated Langherne, and
summoned Poyer to surrender. But Pembroke stood out, and was not
reduced till July, though Colonel Horton encountered Langherne at St.
Fagan's, near Cardiff, and completely routed him.

Meanwhile, in other quarters insurrections broke out. On the 9th
of April a mob of apprentices and other young fellows attacked the
train-bands in Moorfields, struck the captain, took his colours, and
marched with them to Westminster, crying, "King Charles! King Charles!"
There they were attacked and dispersed, but they rallied again in the
City, broke open houses to obtain arms, and frightened the mayor so
that he took refuge in the Tower. The next day Fairfax dispersed them,
but not without bloodshed. Soon after three hundred men from Surrey
surrounded the Parliament houses, cursing the Parliament, insulting
the soldiers, and demanding the restoration of the king. They were not
repulsed without some of them being killed. Similar outbreaks took
place in Norwich, Thetford, Canterbury, and other places. Pontefract
Castle was surprised by eighty cavaliers, each with a soldier mounted
behind him.

[Illustration: RISING OF THE LONDON APPRENTICES ON BEHALF OF CHARLES.
(_See p._ 75.)]

Parliament, at the same time, was besieged with petitions for
disbanding the army and restoring the king. To allay the ferment in
the capital, whilst the army was engaged in the provinces, Parliament
passed a resolution that no change should be made in the government by
kings, Lords, and Commons. Fairfax withdrew his troops from the Mews
and Whitehall, and Major-General Skippon was made commander of the
City militia, to act in concert with the Lord Mayor and Corporation.
The men of Kent and Essex rose in great numbers for the king. At Deal,
off which Colonel Rainsborough, now acting as admiral, was lying, the
people rose. The fleet, consisting of six men-of-war, revolted, hoisted
the royal colours, and sailed to Helvoetsluys, where they called for
the Duke of York to take the command. The effect of this event was
neutralised, however, by a victory, which Fairfax obtained on the 1st
of June over the Royalists at Maidstone, where, after a hard fight of
six hours, he slew two hundred in the streets, and took four hundred
prisoners. This defeat prevented the junction of this body with another
under Colonel Goring, now Earl of Newport, who marched to Blackheath,
and demanded entrance into the City. The Independent party were in a
perilous position there. There was, as we have seen, a numerous body
in London in favour of the king, who had no reliance on the militia.
To conciliate public opinion, the Parliament ordered the release of
the aldermen imprisoned at the desire of the army, and revoked the
impeachment against the six Lords and eleven Commoners. Holles and his
associates resumed their seats and their old measures, voted for a
renewed negotiation with Charles on condition that he should restore
Presbyterianism, and give the command of the army to Parliament for
ten years. Luckily for the Independents, the Lords rejected these
propositions, and voted a treaty without any conditions. At the same
time the Common Council, showing a decided leaning towards the king,
offered to protect him from danger and insult if he would come to the
capital. The danger to the Independent interest was only repelled by
the obstinacy of their old enemy Holles, who would consent to nothing
which did not establish Presbyterianism.

[Illustration: EXECUTION OF SIR CHARLES LUCAS AND SIR GEORGE LISLE.
(_See p._ 78.)]

Whilst these discussions agitated the City, Fairfax marched on Goring,
who quitted Blackheath, crossed the Thames into Essex with five
thousand horse, where he was joined by Lord Capel, with Royalists
from Hertfordshire, and Sir Charles Lucas, with a body of horse from
Chelmsford. They concentrated their united force at Colchester, where
they determined to hold out till the advance of the Scots, and thus
detain the commander-in-chief in the south. The Scots were now in
reality on the march. The Duke of Hamilton had not been able to muster
more than a fourth of his promised forty thousand. Though he proclaimed
everywhere that Charles had promised to take the Covenant and uphold
the Presbyterian religion, Argyll and the old covenanting body wholly
distrusted these assurances; the Assembly of the Kirk demanded proofs
of the king's engagement; the ministers from the pulpits denounced the
curse of Meroz on all who engaged in this unholy war, and the women
cursed the duke as he passed, and pelted him with stones from their
windows.

The English Royalists under Langdale, about four thousand brave
Cavaliers, had surprised Berwick and Carlisle, and awaited with
impatience Hamilton's arrival. Lambert, the Parliamentary general,
advanced and besieged Carlisle, and Hamilton was urged to advance
and relieve it. He sent forward a detachment, and on the 8th of July
arrived himself, being already supported by three thousand veterans
from the Scottish army in Ireland, and, now uniting with Sir Marmaduke
Langdale, he presented a formidable force. Lambert retired at his
approach, and had Hamilton been a man of any military talent, he
might have struck an effective blow. But from the moment that he
crossed the Border, he appeared to have lost all energy. His army was
paralysed by internal dissensions. The Scottish Presbyterian soldiers
were scandalised at having to fight side by side with Langdale's
Prelatists and Papists, whom they had been accustomed to see ranged
against them as the enemies of the Covenant. In forty days he had
advanced only eighty miles, and when he reached the left bank of the
Ribble, near Preston, Cromwell had reduced Pembroke, marched rapidly
northward through Gloucester, Warwick, Leicester, to Nottingham, where
he left his prisoners with Colonel Hutchinson, governor of the castle,
and soon joined Lambert at Otley Park, and forced back Langdale from
Clitheroe on the main body at Preston. Hamilton at the last moment
was all unprepared. Monroe, with his veterans, lay still at Kirkby
Lonsdale. Yet Hamilton, with his fourteen thousand, should have been
a match for Cromwell, Lambert, and Lilburne's nine thousand. But
Cromwell attacked them with such vigour that, after a hard battle
of six hours, he routed the whole force. The Cavaliers fought like
lions, and only retreated from hedge to hedge before the foe; they
called repeatedly on the Scots for reinforcements and ammunition, but
not being able to get either, retreated into the town. There they
discovered that their allies were engaged in a fierce contest with the
enemy for possession of the bridge. Cromwell won the bridge, and the
Scots fled in the night towards Wigan. Hamilton retreated with some
of the English towards Warrington. Lieutenant-general Baillie, with
a great party of the Scottish army, surrendered on quarter in that
town. Monroe, who was lying at Kirkby, ignorant of the battle or of
the coming up of the fugitives, retreated to Scotland--the only body
of Scots who regained their country. Hamilton, on the 20th of August,
three days after the battle, was overtaken by Lambert and Lord Grey of
Groby, and surrendered at Uttoxeter. Langdale's Cavaliers dispersed
in Derbyshire, and he himself, in woman's apparel, was discovered at
Widmerpool, in Nottinghamshire; but by the contrivance of Lady Saville,
escaped dressed as a clergyman to London, where he remained with Dr.
Barwick in the character of an Irish minister driven from his parish by
the Papists. So ended Hamilton's boasted invasion. This blow totally
annihilated his party in Scotland; Argyll and the Covenanters rose into
the ascendant. Argyll soon after this seized a ship containing ten
thousand stand of arms, which had been sent from Denmark for Hamilton's
expedition. He invited Cromwell to Edinburgh, where he was received
with great distinction, and was honoured by the thanks of the Scottish
ministers as the preserver of Scotland under God. The members of the
faction of Hamilton were declared enemies to religion and the kingdom,
and incapable of serving in Parliament or the Assembly of the Kirk. On
the 16th of August Cromwell left Edinburgh, Argyll and the nobles of
that party accompanying him some miles on his way, and taking leave of
him with many demonstrations of respect.

At the same time that the Scots began their march, a rising which had
been made in concert with Hamilton, took place in London. The Earl of
Holland, who had become contemptible to all parties by twice going
over to the Parliament and twice returning to the king, entered London
with five hundred horse, and called on the citizens to join him for
Charles. The inhabitants had been too recently punished for their
apprentice rising to make a second experiment. Holland fell back,
therefore, on Kingston-on-Thames, where he was attacked and defeated by
Sir Michael Levesey, and Lord Francis Villiers, brother to the young
Duke of Buckingham, was slain. Holland himself had induced the brother
of Buckingham to follow him; the latter escaped to the Continent, and
returned at the Restoration, like most of his party, no better for his
experience. Holland and Colonel Dalbier retreated to St. Neot's, where
a party of soldiers sent by Fairfax from Colchester met them, and took
Holland and killed Dalbier, who was cut to pieces by the soldiers on
account of his having been a renegade from the Parliamentary army.

The fate of the Scottish army decided that of Goring at Colchester.
There was nothing further to stand out for; he surrendered at
discretion, and was sent to prison to await the award of Parliament,
with Lord Capel, and Hastings, the brother of the Earl of Huntingdon.
But two of his officers, Sir George Lisle and Sir Charles Lucas--the
brother of Lord Lucas, and heir to his title and estates--were shot.
All sides were growing savage. These two officers fell bravely and
deserved a better fate. Lucas, tearing open his doublet, cried, "Fire,
rebels!" and instantly fell. Lisle ran to him, kissed his dead body,
and then turning to the soldiers, told them to come nearer. One of them
said, "I'll warrant you we shall hit you." He replied, "Friends, I have
been nearer, when you have missed me." The death of these noble fellows
sullied the fair reputation of Fairfax, who afterwards deeply regretted
it.

On the revolt of the ships at Deal, under the command of Rainsborough,
whom they left ashore, the Parliament appointed the Earl of Warwick,
the brother of the Earl of Holland, but more in the confidence of
the Reformers, Lord Admiral of the Fleet, and sent him to oppose the
insurgent fleet. No sooner was it heard in Paris that the English ships
had sailed for Holland, and called on the Duke of York to command them,
than it was thought highly expedient that the Prince of Wales should
hasten thither himself and take the command. Accordingly, he travelled
in all haste to the Hague, accompanied by Prince Rupert, and the Lords
Hopton and Colepepper. The prince was received with acclamations by
the fleet at Helvoetsluys, and with other vessels, making altogether
nineteen, he sailed to the coast of England. It was thought by that
party that it was best to sail along the English coast, showing their
strength for some time, and then to proceed to the mouth of the Thames.
At that time the insurrection in Kent was proceeding under Hales,
L'Estrange, and the Earl of Norwich, which Fairfax soon dealt with
at Maidstone; but whilst it was in force the prince might have made
a safe descent on the Isle of Wight, and attempted the rescue of his
father. The castle of Carisbrooke was not strong, and there were few
forces besides its garrison in the island; but though Charles anxiously
expected the fleet, and sent repeated messages, no attention was paid
to them. For nearly a month the prince had the full command of the
coast. Fairfax was engaged with the insurgents at Colchester, and the
rest of the army was occupied in Wales, and in waiting for the approach
of the invasion from Scotland; yet the heir-apparent made no movement
for the rescue of his father, which everyone would have thought would
have been the first thing with him.

Warwick posted himself at the mouth of the Thames, to prevent any
advance towards London, or any relief to Colchester; but he did not
deem himself strong enough till he should be joined by another fleet
under Sir George Ayscough, from Portsmouth. With this arrival Warwick
was in a condition to attack the prince's fleet, but he lay still, nor
did the prince appear more inclined to assail him. He was satisfied to
intercept merchantmen coming into port, and then demand their ransom
from the City. This occasioned a brisk correspondence between London
and the prince, under cover of which proposals were made by the prince
and his counsellors for the City opening its gates and declaring for
the king. But the demand of the prince for ten thousand pounds as
ransom of the merchant ships disgusted the City, and presently after
came the news of the total defeat of the Scottish army at Preston. On
this the prince sailed away again to Helvoetsluys, without attempting
anything more. His fleet, according to Clarendon, like the Court and
army of his father, was rusted with factions, and so incapable of any
decided course of action. But the Earl of Warwick did not present
a more flattering aspect. Though it is confessed that he was amply
strong enough after Ayscough's junction to have beaten the prince,
he satisfied himself with watching him off, and followed him at a
respectful distance to the Dutch coast. He is said there to have
persuaded the disappointed sailors to return to the service of the
Parliament, and thus recovered most of the ships. But the public was
greatly dissatisfied with his conduct, and the Independents did not
hesitate to declare that they were always betrayed by the cowardice
or disaffection of noble commanders. The whole war bore striking
evidences of this fact; and Clarendon asserts that Warwick had an
understanding with his brother Holland, and would almost certainly have
gone over had the Scottish invasion succeeded. Clarendon declares that
the Parliament of Scotland had sent Lord Lauderdale to the Hague, to
invite Prince Charles to go to Scotland and put himself at the head of
affairs there for his father, in order to encourage the endeavour to
put down the Independents, who were at once hostile to the king and the
Solemn League and Covenant; but that the news of the defeat of Hamilton
defeated that object. By the end of August all the attempts of the
Royalists were crushed.

The Presbyterians took the opportunity while Fairfax, Cromwell, and
the leading Independents were absent with the army, to propose a fresh
treaty with Charles. On hearing of this movement, Cromwell wrote to
the Parliament, to remind it of its vote of non-addresses, and that
to break it and make fresh overtures to the king, who would still
adhere to his inadmissible demands, would be an eternal disgrace to
them. But the immediate defeat of Hamilton so much raised the terror
of the Presbyterians at the overwhelming weight which this would
give to the army and the Independent party, that they hastened the
business. Charles readily acceded to it, and would fain have obtained
his wish of carrying on the negotiation in London, especially as a
large party there were urgent for accommodation with him. But the
Parliament dare not thus far run counter to the victorious army, and
a compromise was effected. Charles was permitted to choose any place
in the Isle of Wight where the conference should take place, and
he decided on the town of Newport. From the Parliament five Lords,
including Northumberland and Pembroke, and ten Commoners, including
Vane the younger, Grimstone, Holles, and Pierpoint, were appointed
Commissioners, and on Charles's part appeared the Duke of Richmond,
the Marquis of Hertford, the Earls of Southampton and Lindsay, with
other gentlemen, and a number of his chaplains and lawyers. These were
not admitted to sit with the Parliamentary Commissioners and the king,
and were not to interpose opinions or arguments during the discussion,
which were to be direct from Charles; but they were suffered to be
in the room behind a curtain, where they could hear all, and to whom
Charles was at liberty to retire to consult them. The conditions
were the same as were submitted at Hampton Court, and the king again
consented to the surrender of the command of the army for ten years;
but he would not accede to the abolition of Episcopacy, but merely to
its suspension for three years; moreover, the episcopal lands were not
to be forfeited, but granted on long leases, and he would not bind
himself to accept the Covenant. In fact, he stood just as rooted to his
own notions as if he had as great a chance as ever of obtaining them.
In vain the Presbyterians prayed him with tears to yield, to prevent
the utter ruin of himself and them. The Commission met on the 18th of
September, and it was limited to the 4th of November; but that time
arrived and nothing further was concluded. The Commissioners took their
leave and proceeded to Cowes, but they were met by a resolution of the
Commons to prolong the Conference to the 21st, which was afterwards
extended to the 25th of November.

There were signs and circumstances enough abroad to have brought any
other man to make the best terms he could. On the 11th of September,
before the meeting of the Commission, a petition of many thousands
of well-affected men in the cities of London and Westminster, in
the borough of Southwark, and the neighbouring villages, "had been
presented, praying that justice might be done on the chief author of
the great bloodshed which had been perpetrated in the war." They called
for the execution of Holland, Hamilton, Capel, Goring, and the rest
of the Royalist officers now confined at Windsor. Clarendon says that
Capel, at the execution of Lisle and Lucas at Colchester, had spoken
so fiercely about it, saying they had better shoot all the rest of
the prisoners, and had so upbraided Ireton in particular, to whose
vindictive disposition he attributed the bloody deed, that the army was
vehement for the death of these men. Numbers of other petitions to the
same effect came up from the country and from the regiments, declaring
that after so many miraculous deliverances from their treacherous and
implacable enemies by the Almighty, it was sinful to delay any longer
the punishment of these instruments of cruelty, and especially of the
king, the chief offender, the raiser of the war, and the stubborn
rejecter of all offers. The army was the more vehement, because one of
their most gallant and long-tried leaders, Colonel Rainsborough, had
been foully murdered by a number of Royalists.

No wonder that the army was become impatient of further tolerance of
such an enemy. Colonel Ludlow, who was also a member of Parliament,
protested that it was time that the country laid to heart the blood
spilt, and the rapine perpetrated by commission from the king, and to
consider whether the justice of God could be satisfied, or His wrath
appeased, if they granted an act of oblivion as the king demanded.
No; the blood of murdered thousands cried from the ground; as the
Book of Numbers declared, "blood defiled the land, and the land could
not be cleansed except by the blood of him who shed it." He failed in
converting Fairfax to his creed on this head; but Ireton was a more
willing listener, and he joined his regiment in petitioning, on the
18th of October, that crime might be impartially punished, without any
distinction of high or low, and that whoever should speak or act in
favour of the king, before he had been tried and acquitted of shedding
innocent blood, should be adjudged guilty of high treason. The example
was followed by several other regiments; on the 21st Ingoldsby's
regiment petitioned in direct terms for the trial of the king, and
declared the treaty at Newport a trap; and on the 16th of November a
long and stern remonstrance was addressed by the assembled officers of
the army to the House of Commons, demanding that "the capital and grand
author of all the troubles and woes which the nation had endured should
be speedily brought to justice for the treason, blood, and mischief
of which he had been guilty; that the Lords should be abolished, and
the supreme power vested in the Commons; that if the country desired
any more kings, they should be elected by the Commons; that a period
should be fixed for the close of this Parliament; and that any future
king should be sworn to govern by the aid of Parliament alone."
This startling remonstrance was signed by Rushworth, the historian,
secretary to Fairfax, the general himself accompanying the remonstrance
by a letter. A violent debate upon this remonstrance took place in the
House; but Cromwell was now fast advancing to the capital, and the
House adjourned.

[Illustration: ARRIVAL OF CHARLES UNDER GUARD AT HURST CASTLE. (_see
p._ 82.)]

All these ominous proceedings were lost on Charles; whilst he was
negotiating, he was, in his usual manner, secretly corresponding
with his party in various quarters, apologising for the smallest
concessions, on the principle that he did not mean to abide by them.
On the 24th of October, after conceding the command of the army, he
wrote to Sir William Hopkins, "To deal freely with you, the great
concession I made to-day was merely in order to my escape, of which if
I had not hope, I would not have done it." He had written on the 10th
of October to Ormond in Ireland, with which country he had agreed to
have no further intercourse, telling him that the treaty would come to
nothing, and encouraging him privately to prosecute the scheme for a
rising there with all his vigour, and to let his friends know that it
was by his command, but not openly, or this would, of course, knock the
treaty on the head. But a letter of Ormond's fell into the hands of the
Independents, by which they discovered for what he had been sent over
from France to Ireland, and the Commissioners would not proceed till
Charles had publicly written to deny any authority from him to Ormond.
All the while that the negotiations were proceeding, he was expecting
the execution of a plan for his escape; and he told Sir Philip Warwick
that if his friends could not rescue him by the time he had requested
relief, yet he would still hold on, till he had made some stone in that
building his tombstone.

With such a man all treaty had long been hopeless; he would never
consent to the demands upon him, and without his consent the whole war
had been in vain; nay, did he consent, it was equally certain that,
once at liberty, he would break every engagement. What was to be done?
The Independents and the army had come to a solemn conviction that
there was but one way out of it. The king must be tried for his treason
to the nation, and dealt with as any other incorrigible malefactor.

Cromwell, on his way back from Scotland, had called at Pontefract, to
take vengeance on the assassins of Colonel Rainsborough, but finding
affairs pressing in London, left Lambert to reduce the place and secure
the murderers, and hastened towards the capital. He had relied much on
Colonel Hammond to keep the king safe, and not to give him up into the
hands of Parliament, till full justice had been obtained. But no result
accruing from the treaty, the Commissioners prepared to take their
leave of the king on the 28th of November. On the 25th Hammond had
received an order from Fairfax to proceed to headquarters at Windsor,
and on the 26th Colonel Ewer, a zealous Republican, arrived at Newport
to take charge of the king, and confine him in Carisbrooke Castle, or
elsewhere.

Hammond, who knew well what was the meaning of this, refused to give up
his charge, declaring that in all military matters he would obey his
general, but that this charge was committed to him by the Parliament,
and that he would yield it to no order but theirs. Ewer returned, but
the next day was the last day of the Commissioners. Charles, seeing
the desperate pass at which matters had arrived, suddenly gave way,
and agreed that the seven individuals excepted from pardon should take
their trials--namely, the Marquis of Newcastle, Sir Marmaduke Langdale,
who had been confined in Nottingham Castle, but had escaped, Lord
Digby, Sir Richard Grenville, Sir Francis Doddrington, Lord Byron, and
Mr. Justice Jenkins; that the bishops should be abolished, and their
lands vested in the Crown till a final settlement of religion.

When the Commissioners took their leave, Charles warned the lords of
the party that in his ruin they saw their own. Though he had given up
everything at the last moment, he could not flatter himself that this
would be accepted, because he knew that the army, which held the real
power, had protested against this treaty altogether, as a violation
of the vote of non-addresses, and had no faith in his observance of
any conditions whatever. With the Commissioners Hammond also departed,
and Charles was left in the hands of Major Rolfe, a man who had been
charged with a design to take away the king's life six months before.
But Charles was not intended to remain in this man's custody; a body
of troops under Lieutenant-colonel Cobbet was already on its way to
receive the charge. The friends of the king, on learning this, once
more implored him to endeavour to escape. The Duke of Richmond, the
Earl of Lindsay, and Colonel Coke, urged him to instant flight; they
acquainted him with the watchword, and Coke told him he had a boat and
horses ready. But all their persuasions were vain; Charles would not
move. He pleaded that he had given his parole to the Parliament for
twenty days after the treaty. And this was the same man who had been
writing North and South during the whole treaty, to assure his friends
that he meant to break his word on every point of the treaty, the first
moment that he was at liberty. The real reason, we may believe, why
Charles did not attempt to escape, was, that he had no hope of it.
In all his attempts he never had escaped, and must have had a full
conviction that he never could. At five in the morning Cobbet and
his troop arrived, and the king was informed that he must arise and
accompany it.

The king, greatly agitated, demanded to see the order for his removal,
and to know whither they designed to convey him. Cobbet told him they
should take him out of the island, but would not show his order. His
nobles, bishops, and officers of his household crowded round in alarm
and confusion, but there was no alternative; the king was obliged to
take his leave of them, with much sorrow, and was conducted to Hurst
Castle, on the opposite coast of Hampshire. "The place," says Warwick,
"stood in the sea, for every tide the water surrounded it, and it
contained only a few dog-lodgings for soldiers, being chiefly designed
for a platform to command the ships." The sight of this dreary place
struck a serious terror of assassination into his heart, for he never
would believe that, though the Levellers talked of it, they would ever
dare to bring an anointed king to public trial. Unfortunately, his own
officers had lately been rendering assassination familiar to the public
mind, for besides the gallant Colonel Rainsborough, they had murdered
several other officers of less note, and there was a rumour that they
had made a compact to get rid of the king's enemies in this manner.
Charles, however, was to learn that the officers of the Parliamentary
army disdained murder, and dared arraign a king.

The same day that Charles was transferred to Hurst Castle, the
Parliament negatived the motion that the Parliamentary remonstrance
should be taken into consideration, and it voted a letter of Fairfax's,
demanding pay for the army, or threatening to take it where it could be
found, a high and unbeseeming letter. The same day, too, the council
of officers addressed a declaration to Parliament, assuring it that,
seeing that their remonstrance was rejected, they were come to the
conclusion that the Parliament had betrayed its trust to the people,
and that the army would, therefore, appeal from their authority "to the
extraordinary judgment of God, and all good people." They called on all
faithful members to put their confidence in the army, and protest with
them against the conduct of their colleagues. Parliament, on its part,
sent to Fairfax an order that the army should not advance any nearer
to the capital. But the army was advancing--several regiments from the
neighbourhood of York--with the avowal that they were following the
directions of Providence.

On the 1st of December the Commons met, and as if indifferent to the
advance of the army, voted thanks to Holles, Pierpoint, and Lord
Wenman, for their care and pains in the good treaty at Newport, and
proceeded to read twice the report of the Commissioners. Holles, who,
with his accused colleagues, was again in the House, moved that the
king's answer should be voted satisfactory; but that question was
postponed till the next day, when the House adjourned again till the
4th of December--Fairfax, in defiance of their prohibition, having that
day marched into the City, and quartered his troops around Whitehall,
York House, St. James's, the Mews, and other places. On the 4th they
went into the question of the treaty again, having debated all Friday
and Saturday; and on Monday they continued the debate all day until
five o'clock the next morning, Tuesday. Such a debate of three days and
a night had not hitherto been known, for no subject of such supreme
importance had ever yet come before Parliament. Oliver Cromwell arrived
in the midst of this memorable debate.

Sir Harry Vane the younger said that the treaty had been carried on
for months, and that although the king had appeared to concede much
at the last moment, yet they had his own declaration that he did not
hold himself bound by promises which he might make, and that it was the
conviction of himself, and thousands of others, that the king was not
to be trusted; that he, therefore, moved that the House should return
at once to its vote of non-addresses, which it ought never to have
violated, should cease all negotiations, and settle the commonwealth
on another model. Sir Henry Mildmay said the king was no more to be
trusted than a caged lion set at liberty. This was the conviction of
the whole body of the Independents, and no doubt a solid and rational
conviction. But the king did not lack defenders: Fiennes, to the
astonishment of his party, advocated the adoption of the report, and
even Prynne, who had suffered so severely under it, became a pleader
for royalty, that he might chastise Independency and the army. On a
division it was found that a majority of thirty-six, being one hundred
and forty against one hundred and four, had voted the concessions of
Charles at Newport satisfactory, and offering sufficient grounds for
settling the peace of the kingdom. But the army--or, in other words,
the Independent and Republican cause--was not going thus to be defeated.

On the morning of the 6th of December, Major-general Skippon discharged
the train-bands which had guarded the two Houses of Parliament, and
Colonel Rich's cavalry and Colonel Pride's regiment of foot took their
places. Colonel Pride took the lead in the proceeding, which has thence
acquired the name of Pride's Purge. The army determined to purge the
Parliament of all those who were weak enough or mischievous enough to
consent to the return of the king on his own promises, which had long
ceased to mean anything but deceit. Fairfax was engaged in conversation
with some of the members, and Colonel Pride, placing some of his
soldiers in the Court of Requests, and others in the lobby of the
Commons, stood in the latter place with a list of its members in his
hand, and as they approached--Lord Grey of Groby, who stood by him as
one of the doorkeepers, informing him who the members were--he stopped
such as were on his list, and sent them to the Queen's Court, the Court
of Wards, and other places appointed for their detention by the general
and council of the army. Fifty-two of the leading Presbyterians were
thus secured, and the next day, others who had passed the first ordeal
were also removed, so that Pride's Purge had left only about fifty
members for a House, who were Independents, for others had fled into
the country, or hidden themselves in the City to escape arrest. On the
whole, forty-seven members were imprisoned, and ninety-six excluded.
The purged remainder acquired the well-known name of the Rump.

The Independents were now uncontrolled; the royal party in Scotland,
weakened by the defeat of Hamilton's army, were opposed by the
Covenanters, who again denounced the curse of Meroz from the pulpit
against all who did not rise in defence of the Solemn League and
Covenant. Loudon and Eglinton were appointed commanders, and the Earl
of Argyll, with his Highlanders, joining them, they, with the forces
of Cassilis from Carrick and Galloway, marched to Edinburgh. This wild
army advancing from the west were called the "Whiggamores," either from
_whiggam_, a phrase used in driving their horses, or _whig_ (whey),
a beverage of sour milk, which was one of their articles of food.
Whichever it was, the term was soon used to designate an enemy of the
king, and in the next reign was adopted as a nickname for the opponents
of the Court, whence the political term "Whig." Lord Lanark and Monroe
were glad to treat with the Whiggamores, and disbanded their troops, so
that Argyll being a great partisan of Cromwell's, nothing more was to
be feared in the North. On Cromwell's visit Berwick and Carlisle had
been surrendered to him.

On the sitting of the purged Parliament on the 6th, the first day of
Pride's weeding out the suspected members, Cromwell appeared in his
place, and was received with acclamations for his services in the
North. The 8th was kept as a solemn fast, and a collection was made
for the wives and widows of the poor soldiers. They then adjourned
to the 11th, and on Sunday, Hugh Peters, the great enthusiast of
Republicanism, preached a sermon in St. Margaret's, Westminster, from
the text, "Bind your king with chains, and your nobles with fetters of
iron;" and he did not hesitate in the sermon to characterise the king
as Barabbas, the great murderer, tyrant, and traitor. It was remarkable
that not only four earls and twenty commoners of note sat out this
sermon, but the Prince Palatine himself, Charles's nephew. The king's
own family, whatever their pretences, had clearly given him up to his
fate, or the prince, with his powerful fleet, would never have scoured
the coasts of the south of England for several weeks without a single
attempt to save his father, the impetuous Prince Rupert being on board,
and one of his chief counsellors.

Instead of the House of Commons sitting according to adjournment,
on the 11th, the Military Councils, the Select Committee, and the
General sat, and framed a new scheme of government. It was called "A
new Representative, or an Agreement of the People." The composition
was said to be Ireton's, but had probably been framed by Cromwell,
Ireton, Peters, Vane, Pride, and the leading Republicans. It was but an
amplification of the late remonstrance; it proposed that the present
Parliament, which had now sat eight years, should be finally dissolved
in April next, and a new one elected according to this formula. It
declared that officers and malignants should be incapable of electing
or being elected; that the House of Commons should consist of three
hundred members, and the representation of the country should be more
equal. These propositions, having been sanctioned by the general
council of soldiers and inferior officers, were carried to Parliament.
The Commons the next day readily voted these measures, as well as that
both the Commons and Lords, by violating the vote of non-addresses, had
committed an act most unparliamentary and detrimental to the kingdom,
and that the treaty at Newport was a monstrous error, disgrace, and
peril to the country. They again restored the order expelling the
eleven Presbyterian members from the House.

On the 16th a strong party of horse was despatched under Colonel
Harrison to remove the king to Windsor Castle. On the very day that
he reached Windsor, the House of Commons, or the Rump fragment of it,
appointed a committee of thirty-eight "to consider of drawing up a
charge against the king, and all other delinquents that may be thought
fit to bring to condign punishment." On the 1st of January, 1649, the
committee made the following report:--"That the said Charles Stuart,
being admitted King of England, and therein trusted with a limited
power to govern by and according to the laws of the land, and not
otherwise; and by his trust, oath, and office, being obliged to use
the power committed to him for the good and benefit of the people, and
for the preservation of their rights and liberties; yet, nevertheless,
out of a wicked design to erect and uphold in himself an unlimited and
tyrannical power, to rule according to his will, and to overthrow the
rights and liberties of the people; yea, to take away and make void the
foundations thereof, and of all redress and remedy of misgovernment,
which by the fundamental constitutions of this kingdom were reserved on
the people's behalf, in the right and power of frequent and successive
Parliaments, or national meetings in council; he, the said Charles
Stuart, for accomplishing of such his designs, and for the protecting
of himself and his adherents in his and their wicked practices, to the
same ends hath traitorously and maliciously levied war against the
present Parliament, and the people therein represented." The report,
therefore, declared that he should be brought to judgment for his
treason to the nation.

[Illustration: TRIAL OF CHARLES I. (_See p._ 86.)]

The next day the ordinance of the Commons confirming the report was
sent up to the Lords, or at least to the few of them remaining, only
amounting to about a dozen, who rejected it without a dissenting voice,
and then adjourned. The Commons immediately closed their doors, and
passed a resolution that the Commons of England in Parliament assembled
were, under God, the origin of all just power as the representatives of
the people; that whatsoever they decreed was law, and did not require
any concurrence from the Lords.

On the 6th of January the Commons passed the ordinance for the trial of
the king. By it they erected a High Court of Justice for trying him,
and proceeding to judgment against him. It consisted of no less than a
hundred and thirty-five Commissioners, of whom twenty were to form a
quorum. Of these Commissioners no more than eighty assembled. On the
8th, fifty assembled in the Painted Chamber, Fairfax at their head, and
ordered that on the morrow the herald should proclaim the approaching
trial, and invite all people to bring in what matters of fact they had
against Charles Stuart. Accordingly that was done both at Westminster
and in the City the same day, the 9th. The Commons ordered the Great
Seal in use to be broken up, and a new seal introduced, bearing the
inscription, "The Great Seal of England," and on the reverse, "In the
first year of Freedom, by God's blessing restored, 1648" (_i.e._, 1649,
new style). The Commissioners then appointed John Bradshaw, a native
of Cheshire, and a barrister of Gray's Inn, who had practised much in
Guildhall, and had lately been made a serjeant, Lord President of the
High Court; Mr. Steel, Attorney-General; Mr. Coke, Solicitor-General;
Mr. Dorislaus and Mr. Aske, as Counsel for the Commonwealth; and,
appointing the old Courts of Chancery and King's Bench, at the upper
end of Westminster Hall, as the place of trial, they fixed the day for
the 19th of January. On the 20th of January the Commissioners assembled
in the Painted Chamber to the number of sixty-six, and proceeded in
state to Westminster Hall.

It may be imagined that such a spectacle drew immense throngs. Every
avenue to the hall was guarded by soldiers, and others stood armed
within it. The open space below the bar was densely crowded, and
equally packed throngs of nobles, gentlemen, and ladies, looked down
from the galleries right and left. A chair of crimson velvet for
the President stood elevated on three steps towards the upper end
of the hall, and behind and in a line with him right and left the
Commissioners took the seats placed for them, which were covered with
scarlet. Before the President stood a long table on which lay the mace
and sword, and just below him, at its head, sat two clerks. At the
bottom of the table, directly opposite to the President, was placed a
chair for the king.

After the commission had been read, Bradshaw ordered the prisoner to
be brought to the bar. He had been brought from Whitehall, to which
he had been removed from St. James's, in a sedan chair, and the
serjeant-at-arms conducted him to the bar. His step was firm, and
his countenance, though serious, unmoved. He seated himself covered,
according to the wont, not of a prisoner, but of a king; then rose and
surveyed the court and crowds around him. The Commissioners all sat
with their hats on, and Charles eyed them sternly. He then glanced
round on the people in the galleries and those around him with an air
of superiority, and reseated himself. Bradshaw then addressed him
to this effect:--"Charles Stuart, King of England,--The Commons of
England, being deeply sensible of the calamities that have been brought
upon this nation, which are fixed upon you as the principal author
of them, have resolved to make inquisition for blood; and, according
to that debt and due they owe to justice, to God, the kingdom, and
themselves, they have resolved to bring you to trial and judgment, and
for that purpose have constituted this High Court of Justice before
which you are brought." Coke, the Solicitor-General, then rose to
make the charge against him, but Charles, rising and crying, "Hold!
hold!" tapped him on the shoulder with his cane. In doing this the gold
head dropped from his cane, and though he took it up with an air of
indifference, it was an incident that made a deep impression both on
him and the spectators. He mentioned the circumstance to the Bishop of
London, who attended him in private, with much concern, and those who
saw it regarded it as an especial omen.

Coke, however, went on, and desired the clerk to read the charge,
and whilst it was reading, Charles again cried, "Hold!" but as the
clerk continued, he sat down, looking very stern; but when the words
of the charge declaring him to be a tyrant and a traitor were read,
he is said to have laughed outright. When the charge was finished,
Bradshaw demanded what he had to say in reply to it; but he in his turn
demanded by what authority he had been brought there? And he asserted
very forcibly that he was king; acknowledged no authority superior to
his own, and would not by any act of his diminish or yield up that
authority, but leave it to his posterity as he had derived it from his
ancestors. He reminded them that he had lately, in the Isle of Wight,
treated with a number of lords and gentlemen; that they were upon the
conclusion of that treaty, and he wanted to know by what authority he
had, under such circumstances, been brought thence.

This was very true, and would have been unanswerable, had he, as he
asserted, treated with them honestly and uprightly; but we know that
at the very time that he was carrying on that treaty, and to the very
last, he was also carrying on a secret correspondence with Ormond in
Ireland, his wife in France, and with other parties, informing them
that he was only doing this because there was no help for it; but
that he had games to play which would still defeat the whole affair.
He was meaning nothing less, and privately declaring nothing less,
than that he would, on the first opportunity, be as despotic as ever.
He continued, however, to demand, "By what authority am I here? I
mean lawful authority, for there are many unlawful authorities in the
world--thieves and robbers by the highways. Remember, I am your lawful
king: let me know by what lawful authority I am seated here; resolve
me that, and you shall hear more from me." Bradshaw told him that he
might have observed that he was there by the authority of the people
of England, whose elected king he was. That afforded Charles another
answer. "England," he said, "never was an elective but an hereditary
kingdom for nearly these thousand years. I stand more for the liberty
of my people than any here that are come to be my pretended judges."
Bradshaw might have told him that the people thought it time to put
an end to the hereditary form, and adopt a new one; but he replied,
"Sir, how well you have managed your trust is known. If you do not
acknowledge the authority of the court I must proceed." Charles,
however, turned to another weak place in his adversary's answer, and
exclaimed, "I see no House of Lords that may constitute a Parliament,
and the king, too, must be in and part of a Parliament." It was
unquestionable that Charles could not be answered on the constitutional
ground, but only on the revolutionary one, on that principle of the
power and right of the people to revolutionise, and shape anew their
constitution (which in 1688 was acknowledged and established as a great
fact of the rights of nations), and Bradshaw brought forward that
plea--"If you are not satisfied with our authority, we are satisfied
with it, which we have from God and the people." He informed Charles
that he would be expected to answer, and adjourned the court till
Monday.

The two following days were spent in receiving evidence of the king's
having not only commenced the war on his subjects, but of his having
commanded personally in it, and in settling the form of judgment to be
pronounced. On the third day, when Charles was again brought forward,
the same painful scene was renewed of the king's denying the court,
refusing to plead, and yet insisting on being heard. Bradshaw told
him in vain that if he pleaded, admitting the authority of the court,
he would be at liberty to make any observation in his defence that he
pleased; but that in no court could it be otherwise. He then demanded
a hearing before a committee of both Houses, but he was reminded that
the authority of the Lords was no longer admitted. He assured him that
though he contended that he had no superior in the State, the law was
his superior, and that there was a power superior to the law--the
people, the parent or author of the law--which was not of yesterday,
but the law of old; that there were such things as parliaments, which
the people had constructed for their protection, and these Parliaments
he had endeavoured to put down and destroy; and that what his
endeavours had been all along for the crushing of Parliament, had been
notorious to the whole kingdom. "And truly, sir," he continued, "in
_that_ you did strike at all, for the great bulwark of the liberties of
the people is the Parliament of England. Could you but have confounded
that, you had at one blow cut off the neck of England. But God hath
been pleased to confound your design, to break your forces, to bring
your person into custody, that you might be responsible to justice."

He then combated Charles's argument, that there was no law or example
of people deposing or destroying their kings. He quoted many instances
from foreign nations, in which they had resisted, fought against, and
destroyed their kings. Charles's own country of Scotland, before all
others, abounded with instances of the deposition and putting to death
of their sovereigns. His grandmother had been so set aside, and his
own father, a mere infant, put in her place. The Lord President then
referred to the depositions of Edward II. and Richard II., which he
contended were effected by Parliament, and said that their crimes were
not a tenth part so capital against the nation as those in this charge.
As Charles again continued to reply and argue without submitting to
plead, Bradshaw told him the court had given him too much liberty
already, and ordered the sentence to be read. But here John Downes,
one of the Commissioners, a citizen of London, said to those near him,
"Have we hearts of stone? Are we men?" and then rising and trembling
violently, exclaimed, "My lord, I am not satisfied to give my consent
to the sentence. I desire the court may adjourn to hear me." They
therefore adjourned, but in half an hour returned with a unanimous
verdict of guilty.

Bradshaw then proceeded to pronounce the sentence. When the names of
the Commissioners were read that morning, on that of Fairfax being
called, a female voice from one of the galleries cried out, "He has
more wit than be here." When the name of Cromwell was read, the same
voice exclaimed, "A rogue and a traitor." As Bradshaw now went on to
say, the king had been called to answer by the people, before the
Commons of England assembled in Parliament, the same female voice
shouted, "It is false! not one half-quarter of them!" There was a great
excitement; all turned towards the gallery whence the voice came,
from amid a group of masked ladies. Axtell, the officer commanding
the soldiers, brutally ordered them to fire into the group; but the
soldiers hesitated, and a lady rose and walked out of the gallery. It
was seen to be Lady Fairfax, the wife of the commander-in-chief, a
woman of very ancient and noble family, the Veres of Tilbury, who had
come to object most decidedly to the extreme measures of the army, and
had prevailed on her husband to keep away from the court.

After order had been restored, Bradshaw ordered the charge to be read,
the king still interfering; and then Bradshaw passed the sentence,
"That the court being satisfied in conscience that he, Charles Stuart,
was guilty of the crimes of which he had been accused, did adjudge him
as a tyrant, traitor, murderer, and public enemy to the good people of
the nation, to be put to death by severing his head from his body."

After the sentence was pronounced, Charles again requested to be
heard; but Bradshaw told him that after the sentence it could not be
allowed, and ordered the guards to take him away. The Royalist writers
state that during the trial the people had cried, "Justice! justice!"
whilst others cried, "God save the king!" but that after the king was
condemned, the soldiers, as he passed, insulted him in the grossest
manner, spitting on him, blowing their tobacco in his face, throwing
their pipes at him, and yelling in his ears, "Justice! justice!
execution! execution!" But the popular party utterly denied the truth
of these assertions; declaring that they were got up to make the case
of Charles resemble that of the Saviour, to render his judges odious,
and himself a sacred martyr. One soldier, Herbert says, as the king was
proceeding to his sedan chair, said, "God help and save your majesty!"
and that Axtell struck him down with his cane, on which the king said,
"Poor fellow! it is a heavy blow for a small offence." To the hired
hootings of the military, Herbert says that he merely remarked, "Poor
souls! they would say the same to their generals for sixpence."

Charles went back to St. James's Palace, where he spent the remainder
of the day, Sunday, the 28th of January, and Monday, the 29th, the
execution being fixed for Tuesday, the 30th. He had the attendance of
Juxon, the late Bishop of London, and the next morning he received the
last visit of his only two remaining children in England, the Duke of
Gloucester and the Princess Elizabeth. The princess was not twelve,
and the king, setting her on his knee, began speaking to her--"But,
sweetheart," he said, "thou wilt forget what I tell thee." The little
girl, bursting into tears, promised to write down all that passed, and
she did so. In her account, preserved in the "_Reliquiæ Sacræ_," she
says, amongst other things, that he commanded her to tell her mother
that his thoughts had never strayed from her, that his love would be
the same for her to the last; and that he died a glorious death for
the laws and religion of the land. To the Duke of Gloucester he said,
"Sweetheart, now they will cut off thy father's head. Heed what I say,
they will cut off my head, and perhaps make thee a king. But mark
what I say; you must not be a king as long as your brothers Charles
and James live; therefore, I charge you, do not be made a king by
them." At which the child, sighing deeply, replied, "I will be torn in
pieces first." "And these words coming unexpectedly from so young a
child," says the princess, "rejoiced my father exceedingly." The whole
interview was extremely affecting.

Charles slept well, but woke early, and bade his man Herbert rise and
dress him with care, for it was his second marriage day, and he would
be as trim as possible. Whilst Herbert dressed him, he told him he had
dreamt of Archbishop Laud, who, on the king speaking seriously to him,
had sighed and fallen prostrate. Charles said, had he not been dead,
he might possibly have said something to Laud to cause him to sigh;
so that it is possible he felt that Laud's proceedings and advice had
brought things to this pass. He desired to have two shirts on, as the
weather was very cold; for if he shook, the rogues would think it was
through fear. He observed that he was glad he had slept at St. James's,
as the walk through the park would warm him. At ten o'clock the summons
came--Colonel Hacker knocked at the door to say they were ready. Hacker
turned pale on seeing the king come out, and was much affected. Ten
companies of infantry formed a double line on each side of his path,
and a detachment preceded him with banners flying and drums beating.

[Illustration: CHARLES'S FAREWELL INTERVIEW WITH THE DUKE OF GLOUCESTER
AND THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH. (_See p._ 88.)]

On the king's right walked Juxon, on his left the Parliamentary Colonel
Tomlinson, bareheaded. The king walked through the park at a brisk
rate, and said to the guard, "Come, my good fellows, step on apace."
He pointed out a tree planted by his brother Henry, and on arriving at
Whitehall, he ascended the stairs with a light step, passed through the
long gallery, and went to his chamber, where he remained with Juxon in
religious exercise. It was past one o'clock before he was summoned to
the scaffold, where the executioner, Brandon, and Hulet, a sergeant
appointed to assist him, disguised in black masks, awaited him. The
scaffold was raised in the street, in front of the Banqueting House
at Whitehall, and he passed through a window which had been taken
out, upon it. All was hung with black cloth, and in the middle of the
scaffold stood the block, with the axe enveloped in black crape lying
on it.

Charles made a speech, in which he denied making war on the Parliament,
but the Parliament on him, by claiming the militia. Church, Lords, and
Commons had, he said, been subverted with the sovereign power; if he
would have consented to reign by the mere despotism of the sword, he
asserted that he might have lived and remained king. He declared that
he forgave all his enemies; and yet when the executioner knelt and
begged his forgiveness, he said, "No, I forgive no subject of mine, who
comes deliberately to shed my blood." He said that the nation would
never prosper till they placed his son on the throne; and to the last
moment, rooted in his theory of divine right, he denied that the people
ought to have any share in the government--that being a thing "nothing
pertaining to them"--and yet that "he died the martyr of the people."

Whilst he spoke some one disturbed the axe, on which he turned and
said, "Have a care of the axe; if the edge be spoiled, it will be the
worse for me." After concluding his speech, he put up his hair under
a cap, and the bishop observed, "There is but one stage more, which,
though turbulent and troublesome, is yet a very short one. Consider
it will carry you a great way--even from earth to heaven." "I go,"
said the king, "from a corruptible crown to an incorruptible, where no
disturbance can take place." "You are exchanged from a temporal to an
eternal crown--a good exchange," replied the bishop. The king then took
off his cloak, and gave his _George_ to Juxon, saying impressively,
"Remember!" The warning is supposed, as the medallion of the George
concealed a portrait of Henrietta, to have regarded a message to his
wife. Having laid his head on the block, the executioner severed it at
a single stroke, and Hulet, the sergeant, holding it up, cried, "Here
is the head of a traitor." At that sight a universal groan seemed to go
through the crowd.

The body lay at Whitehall, to be embalmed, till the 7th of February,
when it was conveyed to Windsor, and laid in the vault of St. George's
Chapel, near the coffins of Henry VIII. and Jane Seymour. The day was
very snowy, and the coffin being deposited without any service, was
left without any inscription except the words, "Carolus Rex, 1648,"
the letters of which were cut out of a band of lead by the gentlemen
present, with their penknives, and the lead folded round the coffin.
In this condition it was discovered in 1813, when George IV., attended
by Sir Henry Halford, had it opened, and found proof that the head had
been separated from the body.

CHAPTER IV.

THE COMMONWEALTH.

Proclamation of the Prince of Wales Forbidden--Decline
of the Peerage--_Ultimus Regum_--Establishment of a
Republican Government--Abolition of the House of Lords and
the Monarchy--Council of State--The Oath Difficulty--The
Engagement--Religious Toleration--Trials of Royalists--Discontent
among the People--The Levellers--Activity of John
Lilburne--Quelling the Mutiny in Whalley's Regiment--Lockyer's
Funeral--Arrest of Lilburne--Spread of the Disaffection to
other Regiments--Suppression of the Insurrection--Cromwell
appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland--Royalist Movement
in Scotland--Charles's Son proclaimed King--The Scottish
Deputation at the Hague--Charles's Court--Assassination of Dr.
Dorislaus--Affairs in Ireland--Cromwell's Campaign--Defeat
and Death of Montrose--Cromwell in Scotland--Battle of
Dunbar--Movements of Charles--His March into England--Battle of
Worcester--Charles Escapes to France--Vigorous Government--Foreign
Difficulties--Navigation Act--War with Holland--Contest between
Parliament and the Army--Expulsion of the Rump--The Little
Parliament--Cromwell made Protector.

The king being put to death, it was necessary that the Parliament
should immediately determine what sort of government should succeed.
Had they been disposed to continue the monarchy, and receive the eldest
son of Charles, it was still necessary to take efficient means for
obtaining from him, before admitting him to the throne, a recognition
of all the rights for which they had striven with his father. The very
day, therefore, of the king's execution, the House of Commons passed
an Act, making it high treason for any one to proclaim the Prince
of Wales, or any other person, king or chief magistrate of England
or Ireland, without consent of Parliament; and copies of this were
immediately despatched to all the sheriffs, to be proclaimed in the
counties. That done, they proceeded gradually, but promptly, to develop
and complete their design of adopting a Republican form of government.

The first step was to deal with the Lords. That body, or the miserable
remnant thereof, still sat in the Upper House, and sent repeated
messages to the Commons, to which they deigned no reply. The Lords, in
fact, had become contemptible in the eyes of the whole community. They
had sunk and trembled before the genius of the Commons. Though strongly
inclined to stand by royalty, and though all their interests were
bound up with it, though they had been created by royal fiat, and made
all that they were by it, in honour, power, and estate, and though
it required no great sagacity to perceive that they must fall with
it, the king himself having repeatedly assured them that such would
be the case, they had neither the policy nor the gratitude to hold
together and maintain the fountain of their honour, nor the prescience
to perceive their case when the Crown must fall, and make a merit of
going over bodily to the conquering power. They had gone to pieces,
some holding with one side, some with the other, some vacillating
between both, changing and rechanging as the balance turned one way
or the other. What was still worse, they had discovered no talent
whatever on either side, with most rare exceptions, and these not
remarkable, even where they had adopted a side and become partisans.
Essex, Warwick, Holland, Hamilton, Newcastle, Northumberland, Ormond,
and the rest, what had they done? Fairfax and Montrose, out of the
whole body--and Montrose had personally been raised to it--had alone
won great names. Fairfax, indeed, independent of Cromwell's hand and
head, was respectable, but nothing more. The whole peerage had sunk
into contemptible eclipse before the bold and vigorous genius of the
Commoners. Without, therefore, deigning to answer their messages, on
the 5th of February they began to discuss the question as to their
retention or abolition, and the next day they voted, by a majority of
forty-four to twenty-nine, that "the House of Peers in Parliament was
useless and dangerous, and ought to be abolished; that the privilege of
peers, of being freed from arrest, should be declared null and void,
but that they might be elected knights or burgesses for the Commons."
Henry Marten moved that the word "dangerous" should be omitted, and
the word "useless" only be retained; or if the word "dangerous" were
retained, it should be only with "not" before it, for the peers were
certainly not dangerous, but pitiably useless, and they had now come to
see verified what Holles had told them, that if they would not heartily
join in saving the nation, it would be saved without them. An Act to
this effect was soon after brought in and passed.

On the day following (the 7th), the Commons proceeded to a more
important question, and voted that it had been found by experience that
the office of a king in this nation, and that to have the power thereof
in any single person, was unnecessary, burdensome, and dangerous to the
liberty, safety, and public interest of the nation, and therefore that
it should be utterly abolished; and to that purpose an Act should be
forthwith prepared. This was speedily followed by a vote, on the motion
of Henry Marten, that the king's statues at the Royal Exchange and
other places should be taken down, and on the places where they stood
should be inscribed, "_Exit Tyrannus, Regum ultimus, Anno Libertatis
Angliæ restitutæ primo_, A.D. 1648, January 30" (old style). There was,
moreover, an elaborate declaration drawn up, to justify the changing
of England into a Republic, translated into Latin, French, and Dutch,
and addressed to foreign States. The custody of the new Great Seal was
entrusted to three lawyers--namely, Whitelock, Keble, and Lisle; they
were to hold it during good behaviour, and to be called Keepers of the
Liberties of England, by authority of Parliament. The King's Bench was
henceforth named the Upper Bench, and came to be called the Commons
Bench, and Oliver St. John, who had done so much to bring about this
revolution, was made Chief Justice.

The next great measure was to dissolve the Executive Council, which
had sat at Derby House, and revive it in a more extended form as
the Executive Council of State, to consist of forty-one members.
Three-fourths of these had seats in the House, and several of the
late peers--Mulgrave, Pembroke, Denbigh, Fairfax, Lisle, Grey of
Groby, Salisbury, and Grey of Werke. The chief heads of the law and
officers of the army were included. The principal names were, the
late peers already mentioned, and Whitelock, St. John, Cromwell,
Skippon, Hazelrig, Midmay, Vane, Marten, Bradshaw, Ludlow, and Colonel
Hutchinson, Governor of Nottingham. Milton, the great national poet,
was appointed its secretary, and henceforth prepared its public acts,
and employed his mighty talents in the defence of the measures of the
Republican Government.

It was necessary to have an oath, and one was constructed which
approved of the king's trial, of the vote against the Scots and
their English associates, and of the abolition of monarchy and the
House of Lords. But as this would not only exclude all conscientious
Presbyterians, but called on the Lords to pass an act of censure on
themselves, as well as on all to approve of Acts of Parliament in
which they had no concern, Fairfax and some others refused to take
it, and it had to be reduced to the undertaking "to be true and
faithful to the Government established without king or House of Peers,
and never to consent to their re-admission." This was called the
"Engagement," and still was effective in excluding all Royalists, and
such of the Presbyterian party as would not consent to violate their
favourite Covenant. Of the twelve judges, ten had been appointed by
the revolutionary party, and the whole of them had quietly continued
their functions through the war against the king; yet six of these now
resigned, probably having hoped to the last for an accommodation with
the king, and not going in their minds the length of a commonwealth.
The other six consented to hold their offices only on the condition
that an Act of the Commons should guarantee the non-abolition of the
fundamental laws of the kingdom.

With regard to the Church, as the present Government was decidedly in
favour of ample toleration, it satisfied itself with making a slight
modification of the existing Presbyterian power, and allowing it to
remain, at the same time that it deprived its intolerant clergy of all
temporal power whatever. No holders of religious opinions were to be
molested, provided that they did not attack the fundamental principles
of Christianity, and thus the Roman Catholics acquired more civil as
well as religious liberty than they had enjoyed since the days of Queen
Mary.

The army remained in the same able hands which had made it the finest
army in Europe, and had won with it such wonderful victories. Fairfax
still continued commander-in-chief, though he had held aloof from
the king's trial, and the navy was put on a more efficient footing
by removing the Earl of Warwick and appointing Blake, who had shown
remarkable skill and courage on land, with Popham and Dean as admirals.
These great changes were chiefly effected by the influence of Cromwell,
Ireton, Marten, and Bradshaw, assisted by the talents of Vane, and
the legal ability of St. John and Whitelock. They also introduced a
Parliamentary measure, which essentially modified the character of the
House. On the 1st of February they carried a vote that those who, on
the 5th of December, assented to the vote that "the king's concessions
were a sufficient ground to proceed to a settlement," should be
incapable of sitting, but all others who should previously enter on the
journal their dissent from that motion should be admissible. By this
means they found the number of members raised to one hundred and fifty,
and at the same time they were protected from a wearying opposition
from the Presbyterian section.

They now proceeded to bring to trial such of the Royalist prisoners
as had engaged in the last insurrection, whom they regarded as
disturbers of the kingdom after it had once conquered the king, and
might have proceeded to a settlement. They looked on them, in fact, as
a species of rebels to the party in power. And yet that party was not
constituted, even by its own formal enactments, as a fully recognised
Government, till these trials were over. They terminated on the 6th of
March, and the Republic was not formally passed till the 19th of that
month, in these words: "Be it declared and enacted by this present
Parliament, and by the authority of the same, that the people of
England, and of all the dominions and territories thereunto belonging,
are and shall be, and are hereby constituted, made, established,
and confirmed to be, a Commonwealth or Free State; and shall from
henceforth be governed as a commonwealth and free state, by the
supreme authority of this nation, the representatives of the people in
Parliament, and by such as they shall appoint and constitute officers
and ministers under them for the good of the people, and without any
king or House of Lords."

Whilst this Act was preparing, the trials were going on: the votes for
the sitting of the Council and the Commons were considered sufficient
authority. The trials were probably hastened by the news that Charles
II. had been proclaimed in Scotland, and that the Scots were raising
an army to avenge the king's death, and "to punish the sectaries of
England for the breach of the Covenant." The persons whom it was
resolved to try, were the Duke of Hamilton, the Earl of Holland, Lord
Goring, lately created Earl of Norwich, Lord Capel, and Sir John Owen.
The High Court appointed to try these prisoners consisted of fifty
persons of both ex-Peers and Commons. The Duke of Hamilton pleaded
that he was not within the jurisdiction of an English court, that he
was a subject of Scotland, and a prisoner of war; but it was replied
that he was also an English peer, as Earl of Cambridge, and it was
proved that not only was his father naturalised as an English peer,
but he himself had been called to sit as such, and had sat. The Earl
of Holland was ill, and therefore made little defence, except pleading
that he had free quarter given him when he was taken at St. Neots; but
this was fully disproved. Lord Goring, or, as now called, the Earl of
Norwich, had been a steady partisan of the king's, and had shown little
lenity to the Parliamentarians; but he now conducted himself with great
respect to the court, and seemed to leave himself in their hands. Lord
Capel was one of the bravest and proudest of the Royalist generals.
During his imprisonment he escaped from the Tower, but was betrayed
by the boatmen with whom he crossed the Thames. He had expressed
great indignation at the deaths of Lisle and Lucas, and had excited
the resentment of Ireton by it. He now demanded to be tried by court
martial, and declared that when Lisle and Lucas were adjudged to die,
Fairfax had declared that all other lives should be spared, and had
evidence to prove it, if he were allowed. Ireton, who really seems to
have felt a stern resentment against the free-speaking general, denied
that Fairfax had given any such promise, and that if he had, he had
no right to supersede the authority of Parliament. He demanded that
Fairfax should be sent for; but the court satisfied itself with sending
to the general, who returned by letter a rather equivocating answer,
saying that his promise only applied to a court martial, and not to any
such court as Parliament might see fit to appoint. Bradshaw told Capel,
who was not satisfied with this, that he was tried by such judges as
Parliament thought proper to give him, and who had judged a better man
than himself.

[Illustration: OLIVER CROMWELL.]

Sir John Owen, who was a gentleman of Wales, in the late outbreak
had killed a sheriff. He pleaded quarter, and that he had only done
what he thought his duty, in support of the king. As to killing the
sheriff, the sheriff had risen against him with force, and was killed
in the accident of war, which he might have avoided if he had stayed
quietly at home. All five were condemned to lose their heads, the
Earl of Holland as a double turncoat, and his conduct had certainly
been anything but consistent and noble. Sir John Owen, on hearing the
sentence, made a low bow and thanked the judges; and being asked why,
he replied, that it was a very great honour for a poor gentleman of
Wales to die like a lord, and he had not expected anything better
than hanging. No sooner was the sentence passed, than the friends
of Hamilton, Holland, and Capel, made great exertions to save their
lives. The wives of Holland and Capel appeared at the bar, attended by
long trains of females in mourning, to beg for their lives. Two days'
respite was granted, and every effort, persuasion, and bribery was put
in force. Hamilton had fewer friends than the rest, but it was urged
that his death might occasion trouble with Scotland; but Cromwell knew
that they had the interest of Argyll, and that Hamilton's being out of
the way would strengthen that interest. The case of Holland occasioned
a great debate. The Earl of Warwick, his brother, on one side urged his
services to the Parliament for a long period--his enemies, his revolt
from it on the other. Cromwell and Ireton were firmly against them, and
the sentences of these three were confirmed. The votes regarding Goring
were equal, and Lenthall, the Speaker, gave the casting vote in his
favour, alleging that he formerly had done him an essential service.
Sir John Owen, to the satisfaction of those who admired his frank and
quaint humour, was also reprieved, and ultimately liberated. He had
softened even the heart of Ireton, and greatly moved the good Colonel
Hutchinson, and both spoke in his favour. Hamilton, Capel, and Holland,
were beheaded in the Palace Yard on the 9th of March.

The Parliament was soon called on to defend itself against more
dangerous enemies. The country was groaning under the exhaustion of
the civil war. For seven years it had been bleeding at every pore;
and now that the war had ceased, the people began to utter aloud
their complaints, which, if uttered before, had been drowned in the
din of conflict. There was everywhere a terrible outcry against the
burden of taxation; and famine and pestilence--the sure successors
of carnage and spoliation--were decimating the people. In Lancashire
and Westmoreland numbers were daily perishing, and the magistrates of
Cumberland deposed that thirty thousand families in that county had
neither seed- nor bread-corn, nor the means of procuring either. What
rendered this state of things the more dangerous, was the turbulence
of the Levellers. The principles of Republicanism which had borne
on the heads of the army, threatened in turn to overwhelm them in
their progress amongst the soldiers. It is easier to set in motion
revolutionary ideas, than to say to them, "Thus far shall ye go and
no farther." In all revolutions, the class which initiates them wishes
to stop at the point that is most convenient to itself; but other
classes beyond this line are equally anxious, and have an equal claim
to the benefit of levelling principles. It is only power which limits
their diffusion. The power now had passed from the king and the lords,
and had centred in the leaders of the army. It was not convenient or
desirable for them that it should go farther. But the soldiers and the
lower officers, with John Lilburne at their head, claimed a Republic in
its more popular sense. They read in the Bible, and preached from it
in the field, that God was no respecter of persons; that human rights
were as universal as the human race. They saw that Cromwell, Ireton,
Harrison, and a few others were the men who ruled in the Parliament,
the Council, and the Army; and they conceived that they were no longer
seeking the common rights of the community, but the aggrandisement
of themselves. Colonel John Lilburne was pouring out pamphlet upon
pamphlet, and disseminating them through the ranks and through the
people--"England's New Chains Discovered," "The Hunting of the Foxes
from Triploe Heath to Whitehall by Five Small Beagles." These foxes
were Cromwell, Ireton, Fairfax, etc., who had suppressed the mutiny at
Triploe Heath--and the five beagles those who had been made to ride
the wooden horse for their insubordination, that is, set upon a sharp
three-cornered wooden machine, with weights or muskets tied to their
feet. News came to Parliament that one Everard, a soldier passing for a
prophet, and Winstanley, another, with thirty more, were assembled on
St. George's Hill, near Cobham, in Surrey, and were digging the ground
and planting it with roots and beans. They said they should shortly be
four thousand, and invited all to come and help them, promising them
meat, drink, and clothes. Two troops of horse were sent to disperse
them, of which they loudly complained, and Everard and Winstanley went
to the general, and declared "that the liberties of the people were
lost by the coming in of William the Conqueror, and that ever since,
the people of God had lived under tyranny and oppression worse than our
forefathers under the Egyptians. But now the time of deliverance was at
hand, and God would bring His people out of this slavery, and restore
them to their freedom in enjoying the fruits and benefits of the earth.
There had lately appeared to him [Everard] a vision, which bade him
arise and dig and plough the earth, and receive the fruits thereof.
He said that their intent was to restore the earth to its former
condition; that, as God had promised to make the barren fruitful, so
now what they did was to restore the ancient community of enjoying the
fruits of the earth, to distribute them to the poor and needy; that
they did not intend to break down pales and destroy enclosures, as was
reported, but only to till the waste land, and make it fruitful for
man; and that the time was coming when all men would willingly come in
and give up their lands and estates, and submit to this community of
goods."

Lilburne had been engaged in the county of Durham, and to win him over,
three thousand pounds were voted to him; but this did not move him for
a moment. On his return, he appeared at the bar of the House with a
petition against the form of the newly adopted constitution, which the
officers had named, "The Agreement of the People," but which the people
did not accept as their agreement. Lilburne protested against the
provision that Parliament should only sit six months every two years,
and that the Council should rule the other eighteen. This example was
extensively followed, and the table of the House was quickly loaded
with petitions demanding a new Parliament every year; a committee of
the House to govern during the recess; no member of one Parliament to
be a member of the next; the Self-denying Ordinance to be enforced; the
term of every officer's commission in the army to be limited; the High
Court of Justice and Council of State to be abolished as instruments of
tyranny; all proceedings in the courts of law to be in English; lawyers
reduced, and their fees too. Excise and customs they required to be
abolished, and the lands of delinquents sold to remunerate the well
affected. Religion was to be "reformed according to the mind of God;"
tithes were to be abolished, conscience made free, and the incomes
of ministers of the Gospel were to be fixed at one hundred and fifty
pounds each, and raised by a rate on the parishioners.

There was much sound sense and gospel truth in these demands, but the
day of their adoption was much nearer to the millennium than to 1649.
It was resolved to send Cromwell to settle the disturbances in Ireland,
but it was necessary to quash this communist insurrection first.
Money was borrowed of the City, and after "a solemn seeking of God by
prayer," lots were cast to see what regiments should go to Ireland.
Fourteen of foot and fourteen of horse were selected by this mode. The
officers expressed much readiness to go; the men refused. On the 26th
of April there broke out a terrible mutiny in Whalley's regiment, at
the Bull, in Bishopsgate. The men seized their colours from the cornet,
and refused to march without many of the communist concessions. Fairfax
and Cromwell hastened thither, seized fifteen of the mutineers, tried
them on the spot by court martial, condemned five, and shot one in St.
Paul's churchyard on the morrow. This was Lockyer, a trooper, a brave
young fellow, who had served throughout the whole war, and was only yet
three-and-twenty.

The death of this young man who was greatly beloved, roused all the
soldiers and the working men and women of the City to a fearful degree.
He was shot on Friday, amid the tears and execrations of thousands. On
Monday his troop proceeded to bury him with military honours. Whitelock
says, "About a hundred went before the corpse, five or six in a file,
the corpse was then brought, with six trumpets sounding a soldier's
knell. Then the trooper's horse came, clothed all over in mourning, and
led by a footman. The corpse was adorned with bundles of rosemary, one
half-stained in blood, and the sword of the deceased along with them.
Some thousands followed in rank and file; all had sea-green and black
ribbon tied on their hats and to their breasts, and the women brought
up the rear. At the new church in Westminster, some thousands more, of
the better sort, met them, who thought not fit to march through the
City."

This was not a promising beginning for the generals, but they were not
men to be put down. They arrested Lilburne and his five small beagles,
who published, on the 1st of May, their "Agreement of the People," and
clapped them in the Tower, and hastened down to Salisbury to quell the
insurrection which had broken out in Oxfordshire, Gloucestershire,
and Wilts in the army. The regiments of Scrope, Ireton, Harrison,
Ingoldsby, Skippon, Reynolds, and Horton, all declared for the
Lilburne "Agreement," and swore to stand by each other. At Banbury, a
Captain Thompson, at the head of two hundred men, issued a manifesto
called "England's Standard Advanced," demanding the completion of
public freedom, vowing justice on the murderers of Lockyer, and
threatening, if a hair of Lilburne's was touched, they would avenge
it seventy-and-seven fold. Reynolds, the colonel of the regiment,
attacked Thompson, put him to flight, and prevailed on the soldiers
to lay down their arms; but another party of ten troops of horse, a
thousand strong, under cornet Thompson, brother of the captain, marched
out of Salisbury for Burford, increasing their numbers as they went.
But Fairfax and Cromwell were marching rapidly after them. They came
upon them in the night at Burford, took them all prisoners, and the
next day, Thursday, the 17th of May, shot Cornet Thompson and two
corporals in Burford churchyard. The rest were pardoned, and agreed to
go to Ireland. A few days afterwards Captain Thompson was overtaken in
a wood in Northamptonshire, and killed. The mutiny was at an end, if
we except some local disturbances in Devon, Hants, and Somersetshire.
Fairfax and Cromwell were received at Oxford in triumph, and feasted
and complimented, being made doctors; and on the 7th of June a day of
thanksgiving was held in London, with a great dinner at Grocers' Hall,
given to the officers of the army and the leaders of Parliament, and
another appointed for the whole kingdom on the 21st.

Cromwell had already been made Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, and on the
10th of July he set forth at five in the evening from London, by way
of Windsor to Bristol. He set out in state approaching to royalty. He
rode in a coach drawn by six Flanders mares, whitish greys, a number of
carriages containing other officers following, attended by a life-guard
of eighty men, the meanest of whom was a commander or esquire; many
of them were colonels in rich uniforms, and the whole procession was
attended by a resounding flourish of trumpets. But before following
the farmer of Huntingdon, now risen to all but royal grandeur, we must
notice the affairs of Scotland.

Though Argyll held the chief power in Scotland, and was on friendly
terms with Cromwell, he could not prevent a strong public feeling
showing itself on the approaching trial of the king. The Scots
reproached themselves for giving up Charles to the English army, and
considered that heavy disgrace would fall upon the country if the
king should be put to death. They demanded, therefore, that a strong
remonstrance should be sent to the Parliament of England, and Argyll
was too timid or too cautious to oppose this. The Commissioners in
London received and presented the remonstrance, but obtained no answer
till after the execution of the king, and that which they did then
receive was in most unceremonious terms. Forthwith the authorities in
Edinburgh proclaimed Charles as king, and the Scottish Commissioners
in London, protesting against the alteration of the Government into
a Republic, and declaring themselves guiltless of the blood of the
king, hastened to Gravesend, to quit the kingdom. But the Parliament,
resenting this language as grossly libellous, and calculated to excite
sedition, sent an officer to conduct them under guard to the frontiers
of the kingdom.

Passing over this insult, the Scots in March despatched the Earl of
Cassilis to the Hague, attended by four commissioners, to wait on
Charles and invite him to Scotland. They found there the Earl of
Lanark, now Duke of Hamilton by the execution of his brother, the
Earls of Lauderdale, Callander, Montrose, Kinnoul, and Seaforth. Some
of these were old Royalists, some of whom were called "Engagers," or
of the party of Hamilton. The Court of Charles, small as it was, was
rent by dissensions, and both the Engagers and the Commissioners under
Cassilis joined in protesting against any junction with Montrose, whose
cruelties to the Covenanters, they said, had been so great, that to
unite with him would turn all Scotland against the king. They insisted
on Charles taking the Covenant, but this Montrose and the old Royalists
vehemently opposed, declaring that to do that would alienate both
Catholics and Episcopalians, and exasperate the Independents to tenfold
bitterness.

Whilst matters were in this unsatisfactory state, Dr. Dorislaus arrived
as Ambassador from the English Parliament to the States of Holland.
He was a native of that country, but had lived some time in England,
had been a professor of Gresham College, and drew up the charge for
Parliament against the king. That very evening, six gentlemen with
drawn swords entered the inn where he was at supper, and desiring
those present not to alarm themselves, as they had no intention of
hurting any one but the agent of the English rebels who had lately
murdered their king, they dragged Dorislaus from the table, and one of
them stabbed him with a dagger. Seeing him dead, they sheathed their
swords, and walked quietly out of the house. They were known to be all
Scotsmen and followers of Montrose; and Charles, seeing the mischief
this base assassination would do his cause, and especially in Holland,
prepared to quit the country. It was first proposed that he should
go to Ireland, where Ormond was labouring in his favour, and where
Rupert was off the coast with a fleet; but he changed his mind and
went to Paris, to the queen, his mother. Before doing that, he sent
Chancellor Hyde and Lord Cottington as envoys to Spain, to endeavour
to move the king in his favour, and he returned an answer to the
Scottish Commissioners, that though he was and always had been ready
to grant them the freedom of their religion, he could not consent to
bind himself to the Covenant. They admitted that he was their king, and
therefore they ought to obey him, and not he them, and this obedience
he must expect from the Committee of Estates, the Assembly of the
Kirk, and the whole nation of Scotland. With this resolute reply they
departed in no very satisfied mood.

[Illustration: ASSASSINATION OF DR. DORISLAUS. (_See p._ 96.)]

The war in Ireland being now undertaken by Cromwell, we must give a
brief retrospective glance at what had been passing there. Perhaps no
country was ever so torn to pieces by different factions. The Catholics
were divided amongst themselves: there were the Catholics of the Pale,
and the Old Irish Catholics, part of whom followed the faction of
Rinuccini, the Pope's Nuncio, who was at the head of the Council of
Kilkenny, while others followed General Preston and Viscount Taaffe.
The Irish Royalists--who consisted chiefly of Episcopalians--ranged
themselves under the banner of Ormond. The approach of Cromwell warned
them to suppress their various feuds and unite against the Parliament.
To strengthen the Parliament force, Jones, the Governor of Dublin,
and Monk, who commanded in Ulster, made overtures to Owen Roe O'Neil,
the head of the Old Irish in Ulster. Ormond had arrived in Ireland,
and Inchiquin and Preston, the leaders of the forces of the Irish
Council, which had now repudiated the Pope's Nuncio, joined him; but
O'Neil held back, not trusting Ormond, and he sent a messenger to
Charles in France, offering to treat directly with him. But Ormond
ordered the Earl of Castlehaven to attack O'Neil, which he did, and
speedily reduced his garrisons of Maryborough and Athy. Enraged at
this whilst he was offering his services to the king, O'Neil listened
to the proposals of Monk, who was himself hard pressed by the Scottish
Royalists, and had been compelled to retire from Belfast to Dundalk.
Monk supplied O'Neil with ammunition, and O'Neil undertook to cut off
the communication between the Royalists in the north and Ormond in the
south. Monk sent word of this arrangement, and the "grandees," as they
were called, or members of the Great Council, entertained the plan
in secret--publicly they dared not, for the followers of O'Neil were
those Ulster Irish who had committed the horrible massacres of 1641. No
sooner, however, did the rumour of this coalition become known, than
the greatest excitement prevailed. The army and the people were filled
with horror and indignation. They appealed to the solemn engagement of
the army to avenge the blood of their fellow Protestants slaughtered
by these savages; they reminded the Council and the Parliament of the
invectives heaped by them on the late king for making peace with these
blood-stained natives; and now _they_ were expected to become the
allies and associates of these very men. The Parliament saw how vain
it was to strive against the feeling, and annulled the agreement. Hugh
Peters harangued the public from the pulpit, excusing the Council on
account of the real facts of the case having been concealed from them,
and the whole weight of the transaction fell on Monk, who was just then
in London, and who was assured that nothing but his past services saved
him from the punishment of his indiscretion.

Whilst matters were in this position, and the Parliament was
compelled to reject a very useful ally, Ormond marched to besiege
Jones in Dublin. He advanced on both sides of the Liffey, and cast
up works at Bogotrath, to cut off the pasturage of the horses of the
Parliamentary force in Dublin. Jones, however, made a sally an hour
before sunrise, and threw the enemy into such confusion that the
whole army on the right bank of the river fled in headlong panic,
leaving their artillery, ammunition, tents, and baggage. In vain did
Ormond hasten to check the rout; his men followed the example. Two
thousand prisoners were taken by Jones, of whom three hundred are
said to have been slaughtered in cold blood. Such was the defeat,
and such the inequality of the forces, that it cast great disgrace
on the generalship of Ormond, and the Royalists made much talk about
treason; but Charles himself would not listen to any such surmises: he
hastened to send Ormond the Order of the Garter, and to assure him of
his unshaken favour. The most exaggerated assertions were made of the
forces of Ormond, and of the number of his men killed and taken. Ormond
says that he had only eight thousand men; but Cromwell, no doubt from
the assertions of Jones, states that the number was nineteen thousand
against five thousand two hundred of Jones's, and that Jones killed
four thousand on the spot, and took two thousand five hundred and
seventeen prisoners, of whom three hundred were officers. The battle
was fought at Rathmines on the 2nd of August, 1649, and contributed to
quicken the movements of Cromwell, who was collecting forces for the
passage at Milford Haven.

Cromwell, with twelve thousand veterans, sailed on the 13th of August,
and arrived in Dublin with the first division on the 15th, Ireton
following with the main body. He was received with acclamations by
the people of Dublin, and made them a speech in the streets, which
greatly pleased them. He then allowed his army a fortnight to refresh
themselves after the voyage, before leading them to action. At this
period, the only places left to the Parliament in Ireland were Dublin
and Derry. On the 9th of September he bombarded Drogheda, and summoned
it to surrender. The governor of the place was Sir Arthur Aston, who
had about three thousand troops, foot and horse, commanded by Sir
Edmund Varney, whose father was killed at Edge Hill. Aston, who had
acquired the reputation of a brave and experienced officer, refused
to surrender, and the storm commenced, and on the second day a breach
was made. A thousand men entered by the breach, but were driven back
by the garrison. On this Cromwell placed himself at the head of his
men, and made a second assault. This time, after some hard fighting,
they succeeded in getting possession of the entrenchments and of a
church. According to Ormond, Carte, and others, Cromwell's officers
then promised quarter to all who would surrender. "All his officers and
soldiers," says Carte, "promising quarter to such as would lay down
their arms, and performing it as long as any place held out, which
encouraged others to yield. But when they had done all in their power,
and feared no hurt that could be done them, then the word 'No quarter'
went round, and the soldiers were, many of them, forced against their
wills to kill their prisoners."

This has always been regarded as a great reproach to Cromwell. He
himself, of course, does not confess that he broke his word, or forced
his officers to break theirs; but he does something very like it. He
asserts plainly, in his letter to Lenthall, the Speaker, that "our men,
getting up to them, were ordered by me to put them all to the sword.
And indeed, being in the heat of the action, I forbade them to spare
any that were in arms in the town; and I think that night they put to
the sword about two thousand men." Some of them escaping to the church,
he had it set fire to, and so burnt them in it; and he records the
exclamations of one of them in the fire. The rest of the fugitives,
as they were compelled to surrender, were either slaughtered, or, to
use his own words, "their officers were knocked on the head, and every
tenth man of the soldiers killed, and the rest shipped for Barbadoes."
He says that one thousand people were destroyed in the church that he
fired. He adds that they "put to the sword the whole of the defendants.
I do not think thirty of the whole number escaped with their lives;
those that did are in safe custody for Barbadoes." This is, perhaps,
the most awful confession that ever was made in cool blood, for these
letters were written about a week after the assault, and by a man of
such a thoroughly religious mind that he attributes the whole "to the
Spirit of God;" says "this hath been a marvellous great mercy;" and
prays that "all honest hearts may give the glory to God alone, to
Whom, indeed, the praise of this mercy belongs." Cromwell endeavoured
to justify this horrible massacre by the plea "that it will tend to
prevent the effusion of blood for the future."

The butchery of Cromwell had not frightened men into surrendering
their towns at his summons, and thereby preventing shedding of
blood. In fact, great as were the merits of Cromwell, his barbarous
mode of warfare in Ireland cannot be defended on any principles of
reason, much less of Christianity or humanity. In England he had been
noted for his merciful conduct in war, but in Ireland a deplorable
fanaticism carried away both him and his army. They were now fighting
against a Papist population, and deemed it a merit to destroy them.
They confounded all Irishmen with the wild savages of Ulster, who had
massacred the Protestants in 1641; and Cromwell, in his letters from
Drogheda, plainly expresses this idea, calling the wholesale slaughter
"a righteous judgment of God upon those barbarous wretches, who have
imbrued their hands in so much innocent blood."

From Drogheda Cromwell returned to Dublin, and then marched on Wexford,
taking and burning minor places by the way. On the 1st of October he
summoned Wexford to surrender, and though the governor refused, the
officer who commanded the castle traitorously yielded it. The soldiers
then perceiving the enemy quit the walls of the town, scaled them with
their ladders, and encountering the forces in the market-place, they
made a stout resistance; but Cromwell informs the Parliament that
they were eventually all put to the sword, "not many less than two
thousand, and I believe not twenty of yours from first to last of the
siege. The soldiers got a very good booty; and the inhabitants," he
says, "were either so completely killed, or had run away, that it was a
fine opportunity for honest people to go and plant themselves there."
According to various historians, no distinction was made between the
soldiers and the innocent inhabitants; three hundred women, who had
crowded around the great cross, and were shrieking for protection to
Heaven, were put to death with the same ruthless ferocity. Some authors
do not restrict the numbers of the slain like Cromwell to two thousand,
but reckon them at five thousand.

Ormond now calculated greatly on the aid of O'Neil to create a
diversion in the north, and divide the attention and the forces of
Cromwell, for that chieftain had begun to justify the treaty made
with him through Monk, by compelling Montgomery to raise the siege of
Londonderry, and rescuing Coote and his small army, the only force
which the Parliament had in Ulster. But the cry in London against
this alliance with the Irish Papist had done its work, and, after the
victory of Rathmines, the Parliament refused to ratify the treaty made
with O'Neil. Indignant at this breach of faith, he had listened to the
offers of Ormond, and was on his march to join him at Kilkenny. O'Neil
died at Clonacter, in Cavan, but his son took the command. By his
assistance, the operations of Cromwell's generals were greatly retarded
at that place, and at Duncannon and Waterford.

On the 17th of October, Cromwell sat down before Ross, and sent
in a trumpeter, calling on the commander to surrender, with this
extraordinary statement, "Since my coming into Ireland, I have this
witness for myself, that I have endeavoured to avoid effusion of
blood;" which must have been read with wonder, after the recent news
from Drogheda and Wexford. General Taaffe refused. There were one
thousand soldiers in the place, and Ormond, Ardes, and Castlehaven,
who were on the other side of the river, sent in fifteen hundred more.
Yet on the 19th the town surrendered, the soldiers being allowed to
march away. O'Neil had now joined Ormond at Kilkenny with two thousand
horse and foot, and Inchiquin was in Munster. Soon after Cork and
Youghal opened their gates, Admiral Blake co-operating by water. In the
north, Sir Charles Coote, Lord President of Connaught, took Coleraine
by storm, and forming a junction with Colonel Venables, marched on
Carrickfergus, which they soon after reduced. Cromwell marched from
Ross to Waterford, his army having taken Inistioge, Thomastown, and
Carrick. He appeared before Waterford on the 24th of November. Here,
too, he received the news of the surrender of Kinsale and Bandon
Bridge, but Waterford refused to surrender, and Cromwell was compelled
to march away to Cork for winter quarters. His troops, however, took
the fort of Passage near Waterford; but they lost Lieutenant-General
Jones, the conqueror of Rathmines, by sickness at Dungarvan.

Cromwell did not rest long in winter quarters. By the 29th of January,
1650, he was in the field again, at the head of thirty thousand men.
Whilst Major-General Ireton and Colonel Reynolds marched by Carrick
into Kilkenny, Cromwell proceeded from Youghal over the Blackwater
into Tipperary, various castles being taken by the way; they quartered
themselves in Fethard and Cashel. On March 28th Cromwell succeeded
in taking Kilkenny, whence he proceeded to Clonmel. In this campaign
the Royalist generals accuse him of still perpetrating unnecessary
cruelties, though they endeavoured to set him a different example. "I
took," says Lord Castlehaven, "Athy by storm, with all the garrison
(seven hundred) prisoners. I made a present of them to Cromwell,
desiring him by letter that he would do the same to me, if any of mine
should fall into his power. But he little valued my civility, for in
a few days after he besieged Gouvan, and the soldiers mutinying and
giving up the place with their officers, he caused the Governor Hammond
and some other officers to be put to death." Cromwell avows this in one
of his letters. "The next day the colonel, the major, and the rest of
the commissioned officers were shot to death; all but one, who, being
very earnest to have the castle delivered, was pardoned." And this, he
admits, was because they refused to surrender at his first summons. He
seemed to consider a refusal to surrender at once and unconditionally,
a deadly crime, and avenged it bloodily. On the other hand, Ormond,
in one of his letters, says, "Rathfarnham was taken by our troops by
storm, and all that were in it made prisoners; and though five hundred
soldiers entered the castle before any officer of note, yet not one
creature was killed; which I tell you by the way, to observe the
difference betwixt our and the rebels' making use of a victory."

The Parliament, seeing the necessity of having their best general
for the impending Scottish war, sent towards the end of April the
_President Bradshaw_ frigate, to bring over Cromwell from Ireland,
and to leave Ireton, Lord Broghill, and the other generals to finish
the war by the reduction of Clonmel, Waterford, Limerick, and a few
lesser places. But Cromwell would not go till he had witnessed the
fall of Clonmel. There Hugh O'Neil, the son of old Owen Roe O'Neil
of Ulster, defended the place gallantly with twelve hundred men. The
siege lasted from the 28th of March to the 8th of May. Whitelock says,
"They found in Clonmel the stoutest enemy this army had met in Ireland,
and there never was seen so hot a storm, of so long a continuance,
and so gallantly defended, either in Ireland or England." The English
troops had made a breach, and endeavoured to carry the town by storm
in vain. On the 9th they stormed the breach a second time. "The fierce
death-wrestle," says a letter from one of the besiegers, "lasted four
hours," and Cromwell's men were driven back with great loss. But the
ammunition of the besieged was exhausted, and they stole away in the
night. The inhabitants, before this was discovered, sent out and made
terms of surrender. On discovering the retreat of the enemy, pursuit
was made, and two hundred men killed on the road. Oliver, however, kept
his agreement with the inhabitants.

The siege of Clonmel finished, Cromwell set sail in the _President
Bradshaw_, and landed at Bristol towards the end of May, where he was
received with firing of guns and great acclamations for his exploits
in Ireland. On the 31st of the month he approached Hounslow Heath,
where he was met by the Lord-General Fairfax, and numbers of other
officers and members of Parliament, besides crowds of other people.
They conducted him to London, and on reaching Hyde Park Corner he
was received by the discharge of artillery from Colonel Barkstead's
regiment, there drawn up; and thus, with increasing crowds and
acclamations, he was attended to the Cockpit near St. James's, a
house which had been assigned to him, and where his family had been
residing for some time. There the Lord Mayor and aldermen waited on
him, to thank him for his services in Ireland. Thence, after rest and
refreshment, he appeared in his place in Parliament, where he also
received the thanks of the House. Some one remarking what crowds went
out to see his triumph, Cromwell replied, "But if they had gone to see
me hanged, how many more there would have been!"

Prince Charles, though invited to assume the crown of Scotland,
was invited on such terms as would have afforded little hope to a
man of much foresight. Those who were to support him were divided
into two factions, which could no more mix than fire and water. The
Covenanters, and the Royalists under Montrose, hated each other with
an inextinguishable hatred. So far from mixing, they were sure to
come to strife and bloodshed amongst themselves. If the Covenanters
got the upper hand, as was pretty certain, he must abandon his most
devoted followers, the Old Royalists and Engagers, and take the
Covenant himself, thus giving up every party and principle that his
father had fought for. He must take upon him a harsh and gloomy yoke,
which must keep him not only apart from his Royalist and Episcopalian
followers, but from his far more valuable kingdom of England, where the
Independents and sectaries reigned, and which the Scottish Covenanters
could not hope to conquer. But Charles was but a poor outcast and
wanderer in a world the princes of which were tired of both him and
his cause, and he was, therefore, compelled to make an effort, however
hopeless, to recover his dominions by such means as offered. He
therefore sent off Montrose to raise troops and material amongst the
Northern Courts, and then to pass over and raise the Highlands, whilst
he went to treat with the Covenanters at Breda.

[Illustration: GREAT SEAL OF THE COMMONWEALTH.]

Montrose was strongly suspected of having headed the party who
assassinated Dorislaus, a very bad beginning, assassination being the
fitting business of thieves, and not of heroes. The fame of Montrose,
nevertheless, gave him a good reception in Denmark and other Courts,
and he is said to have raised an army of twelve thousand men, and
embarked these, and much ammunition and artillery, at Gottenburg,
under Lord Kinnoul, in the autumn. The equinoctial gales appeared to
have scattered this force in all directions, dashing several of the
ships on the rocks, so that Kinnoul landed in October at Kirkwall, in
the Orkneys, with only eighty officers, and about one hundred common
men. Montrose followed with five hundred more, and having received the
Order of the Garter from Charles as a token of his favour, he once
more raised his banner in the Highlands, bearing on it a painting of
the late king decapitated, and the words, "Judge and avenge my cause,
O Lord!" But the Highlanders had been taught caution by the repeated
failures of the Royalists, and the chastisements they had received from
the stern Covenanters; they stood aloof, and in vain did Montrose march
through Caithness and Sutherland, calling on the natives to rise and
defend the king before the Covenanters could sell him to the English,
as they had done his father. This was a fatal proclamation, for
whilst it failed to raise the Highlands, it added to the already deep
detestation of him in the Lowlands, where his proclamation was burnt by
the common hangman.

The Covenanters did not merely burn his proclamation, they despatched a
force of four thousand men against him. Colonel Strachan came almost
upon him in Corbiesdale, in Ross-shire, and calling his men around
him under the shelter of the high moorland broom, he informed them
that God had given "the rebel and apostate Montrose, and the viperous
brood of Satan, the accursed of God and the Kirk," into their hands.
He gave out a psalm, which they sang, and then he dispersed them in
successive companies, the whole not amounting to four hundred men, the
main army being with David Leslie at Brechin. As soon as Strachan's
handful of men came in sight of Montrose's levies, they were attacked
by his cavalry, but scarcely were they engaged, when a second, and then
a third detachment appeared. On perceiving this, Montrose believed the
whole army of Leslie was marching up, and he ordered his infantry to
fall back and screen themselves amongst the brushwood. But first his
horse and then the whole of his men were thrown into confusion. His
standard-bearer and several of his officers were slain. The foreign
mercenaries demanded quarter and received it, the rest made their
escape as well as they could. Montrose had his horse killed under him,
and though he got another horse, and swam across a rapid river, he was
compelled to fly in such haste, that he left behind him the Star and
Garter with which he had been so newly invested, his sword, and his
cloak. He again made for the mountains of Sutherland with Kinnoul, both
disguised as peasants. Kinnoul soon sank with fatigue, and was left
behind and perished. Montrose at length reached the house of Macleod
of Assynt, who had formerly served under him; but this base man sold
him to the Covenanters for four hundred bolls of meal. This treason was
soon avenged by the neighbouring Highlanders, who ravaged the lands of
Assynt; but the Scottish Parliament recompensed the traitor with twenty
thousand pounds Scots, to be raised on the Royalists of Caithness and
Orkney. The Orkneys, as well as the Isles of Man, Scilly, Jersey, the
colony of Virginia, and the islands of the Caribbean Sea, long held out
for the royal cause.

Montrose was at once conveyed to Edinburgh, where he arrived on the
18th of May; and having been carried bareheaded through the city in an
open cart, and exposed to the insults and execrations of the mob, he
was condemned as a traitor, and hanged on the 21st of May on a gibbet
thirty feet high, his head being fixed on a spike in the capital,
and his limbs sent for exposure in different towns. Such was the
ignominious end of the gallant but sanguinary Montrose. But if the
conduct of his enemies was ungenerous, what was that of his prince? No
sooner did Charles hear of his defeat, than fearing that his rising
might injure him with the Covenanters, he sent to the Parliament,
protesting that he had never authorised him to draw the sword; nay,
that he had done it contrary to the royal commands. Thus early did this
worthless man display the meanness of his character, and practise the
wretched maxims of the Stuart doctrine of kingcraft.

Charles had now complied with the demands of the Scottish Parliament,
agreeing to take the Covenant, never to tolerate the Catholic religion
in any part of his dominions, not even in Ireland, where the Catholics
were a majority; to govern entirely by the authority of Parliament,
and in religious matters by that of the Kirk. Thus did this man, for
the sake of regaining the throne of one of his kingdoms, bind himself
to destroy the religion of which he was at heart a believer, and to
maintain a creed that he abhorred and despised. He landed in June in
the Frith of Cromarty, and a court was established for him at Falkland,
and nine thousand pounds sterling were allowed for its expenditure
monthly.

But the pious Scots were speedily scandalised at the debauched habits
of their royal puppet. He had delayed the expedition for some weeks,
because he could not tear himself from his mistress, Mrs. Barlow, and
now he came surrounded by a very dissipated crew--Buckingham, Wilmot,
and others, whom nothing could induce him to part with, though many
others were forbidden the Court.

Whilst these things were taking place in Scotland, in London as
active measures were on foot for putting to flight this Covenanting
king. On the 14th of June the Commons again appointed Fairfax
Commander-in-Chief, and Cromwell Lieutenant-General. Fairfax, so far
from favouring the invasion of Scotland, strongly argued against it,
as a breach of the Solemn League and Covenant. Fairfax's wife is
said to have been resolute against his taking up arms against the
second Charles. She had sufficiently shown her spirit--that of a
Vere, of the martial house of Vere--on his father's trial; and now
Fairfax, not only strongly influenced by his wife, but belonging to
the Presbyterian party, resigned his command, and retired to his
estates in Yorkshire. It was in vain that a deputation, consisting
of Cromwell, Lambert, Harrison, Whitelock, and St. John, waited on
him at Whitehall, opening their meeting with prayer. Fairfax stood
firm, and on the 26th, two days afterwards, the Parliament appointed
Cromwell Commander-in-Chief, in his place. On the 29th, only three
days subsequently, Cromwell set out for the north. He had Lambert as
Major-General, Whalley as Commissary-General, Pride, Overton, Monk,
and Hodgson, as colonels of regiments. The Scottish Parliament had
appointed the Earl of Leven generalissimo, but only nominally so out
of honour, for he was now old and infirm. David Leslie was the real
commander. The Scottish army was ordered to amount to sixty thousand
men, and it was to lay waste all the country between Berwick and
Edinburgh, to prevent the English from obtaining supplies. To frighten
the country people away from the English army, it was rumoured that
every male between sixteen and sixty would have their right hands cut
off, and the women's breasts be bored through with red-hot irons.

[Illustration: DEATH OF THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH.

Carisbrooke Castle, Sept. 8th, 1650.

AFTER THE PAINTING BY C. W. COPE, R.A.]

Cromwell passed the Tweed at Berwick on the 22nd of July, with a force
of sixteen thousand men. They found the country desolate and deserted,
except by a number of women, who on their knees implored mercy, and
were set by the officers to bake and brew for the soldiers. That
night the beacon fires of Scotland were lighted, and the English army
encamped at Mordington, where they lay three days, and then marched
to Dunbar, and thence to Musselburgh. They found the Scottish army
under Leslie posted between Edinburgh and Leith, and well defended by
batteries and entrenchments. Nothing could induce the wary Scottish
commander to quit his vantage ground, and the country afforded no
supplies to the English army; but their fleet followed them along the
coast, and furnished them with provisions.

For a month Cromwell found it impossible to draw the Scottish general
out of his strong position. He sometimes marched up close to his lines
to tempt him to come to action, but it was in vain, and he did not
think it prudent to attack him in his formidable position, which must
have cost him an awful number of men even if he carried it.

The weather being very wet he fell back upon Musselburgh, the enemy
then making a sally, and harassing his rear, and wounding General
Lambert. Cromwell and the Scottish Assembly, as well as Cromwell and
General Leslie, who lay in the ground now occupied by the New Town
of Edinburgh, had a voluminous correspondence, in which they quoted
much Scripture, and each declared himself the favoured or justified of
heaven. The Scots reproached Cromwell and his party with breaking the
League and Covenant, and Cromwell retorted on them, that though they
pretended to covenant and fight against Malignants, they had entered
into agreement with the head and centre of the Malignants himself,
which he said he could not understand. Cromwell, leaving a force to
invest Dunbar, which was said to suffer extreme famine, being cooped by
the English both on land and sea, about the 13th of August shifted his
camp to the Pentland Hills to the west of Edinburgh, in order to cut
off Leslie's supplies.

Whilst lying there the young king himself made a visit to the army at
Leith, where he was received by the soldiers with acclamations; but
the Assembly of the Kirk was soon scandalised by the drunkenness and
profanity which his presence brought into the camp, and set on foot
an inquiry, the result of which was that eighty officers, with many
of their men, were dismissed that they might not contaminate the rest
of the army. They also required Charles to sign a declaration to his
subjects in his three kingdoms, informing them that he lamented the
troubles which had been brought on the realm by the resistance of his
father to the Solemn League and Covenant, and by the idolatry of his
mother; that for himself he had subscribed the Covenant with all his
heart, and would have no friends or enemies but the friends or enemies
of the Covenant; that he repented making a peace with the Papists
of Ireland, and now declared it null and void; that he detested all
popery, prelacy, idolatry, and heresy; and finally, that he would
accord to a free Parliament of England the propositions agreed upon by
the Commissioners of the two kingdoms, and would settle the English
Church according to the plan organised by the Westminster Assembly of
divines.

Never was so flagrant a set of falsehoods forced on a reluctant soul!
Charles read the declaration with indignation, and declared that he
would sacrifice everything rather than thus cast reproach on his
parents and their supporters, who had suffered so much on their behalf,
or belie his own sentiments. But he was soon convinced that he must
see his cause totally abandoned if he did not comply, and at the end
of three days he signed with tears and shame the humiliating document.
The exulting Kirk then proclaimed a certain victory from heaven over "a
blaspheming general and a sectarian army."

And truly, affairs appeared very likely to come to such a conclusion.
Cromwell found it difficult to feed his army; the weather continued
stormy and wet, and his soldiers suffered extremely from fevers and
other illness from exposure to the weather. Cromwell made a sudden
march in the direction of Stirling, as though he intended to cut off
that town from communication with the capital. This set Leslie in
motion; he hastily sent forward his forces, and the vanguards came
to skirmishing, but could not engage in complete battle on account
of the boggy ground between them. Cromwell as suddenly retreated,
and firing his huts on the Pentlands, withdrew towards Dunbar. This
effectually roused the Scots; they knew his distress from sickness
and lack of supplies, and they thought he meant now to escape into
England. To prevent that, and to make themselves masters of the whole
English army, as they now confidently expected, they marched rapidly
along the feet of the Lammermuir Hills, and Leslie managed to outstrip
him, and hem him in between Dunbar and Doon Hill. A deep ravine called
Cockburnspath, or, as Oliver pronounced it, Copper's Path, about forty
feet deep and as many wide, with a rivulet running through it, lay
between Oliver and the Scottish army, which was posted on Doon Hill.
On Oliver's right lay Belhaven Bay, on his left Broxmouth House, at
the mouth of a brook, and where there is a path southward. Leslie had
secured the passes of Cockburnspath, and imagined that he had Cromwell
and his army secure from Sunday night to Tuesday morning, the 3rd of
September. But on Monday afternoon, Cromwell observed Leslie moving
his right wing down into the plain towards Broxmouth House, evidently
intending to secure that pass also; but Cromwell at once espied his
advantage. He could attack and cut off this right wing, whilst the
main body of Leslie's army, penned between the brook and the hills,
could not manœuvre to help it. On observing this, Cromwell exclaimed
to Lambert, "The Lord hath delivered us!" and arrangements were made
to attack the right wing of Leslie at three o'clock in the morning.
Leslie had twenty-three thousand men--Cromwell about half as many;
but by a vigorous, unexpected attack on this right wing, after three
hours of hard fighting, the Scots were thrown into confusion, and
Cromwell exclaimed, "They run! I profess they run!" In fact, the horse
of the Scots dashed frantically away over and through their own foot,
and there was a wild flight in all directions. Three thousand slain
lay on the spot, the Scots army was in wild rout, and as the sun just
then rose over St. Abb's Head and the sea, Oliver exclaimed to his
soldiers, "Let God arise, and let His enemies be scattered!" "The
Lord-General," says Hodgson, "made a halt till the horse could gather
for the chase, and sang the 117th Psalm." Then the pursuit was made
as far as Haddington. Ten thousand prisoners were taken, with all the
baggage, artillery, and ammunition of the enemy. A thousand men were
slain in the pursuit. By nine o'clock in the morning, David Leslie,
the general, was in Edinburgh, old Lord Leven reached it by two, and
what a city! The general complained that the preachers had occasioned
the disaster; they would not let him rest till he descended from his
height to attack the enemy on a disadvantageous ground. The ministers,
though all their prophecies of victory were falsified, had yet plenty
of other reasons for it. They published a "Short Declaration and
Warning," in which they enumerated no less than thirteen causes for
this terrible overthrow--the general wickedness of the country, the
especial wickedness of the king's house, and the number of Malignants
amongst the king's followers, and so forth. Cromwell told them plainly
in letters addressed to them, that they had been punished for taking up
a family that the Lord had so eminently lifted up His hand against, and
for pretending to cry down Malignants, and yet receiving and setting
up the head of them all. He advanced to Edinburgh, where he closely
blockaded the castle, which was soon compelled to surrender.

As for Charles II., he was rather delighted than otherwise with the
defeat of his fanatic friends at Dunbar. He was grown most thoroughly
tired of imperious dictation and morose religion, and he took the
opportunity to steal away to join Murray, Huntly, Atholl, and the
Royalists in the Highlands. On the afternoon of the 4th of October,
on pretence of hawking, he rode out of Perth, and dashed away for the
braes of Angus. After galloping forty miles he came to a wretched hovel
at a place called Clova, where he had nothing but a turf pillow to
sleep on. There he was overtaken by Colonel Montgomery--for Argyll had
been speedily apprised of his flight--and finding that two regiments of
horse were at hand, Charles knew that escape was hopeless, and so he
returned. But "the Start," which Charles's elopement was called, had
opened the eyes of the Covenanters to the danger of pressing him too
far. They now considerably relaxed their vigour towards him, admitted
him to their deliberations in Council, and they thus induced him to
prevail on Atholl, Middleton, and the Highland forces to disband.

[Illustration: DUNBAR.]

Cromwell's attention was soon attracted towards the West, where an
army of five thousand men was raised, by order of the Committee of
Estates, by Colonels Kerr and Strachan, in the associated counties
of Renfrew, Ayr, Galloway, Wigtown, and Dumfries. These people were
of strict whiggamore notions, and were directly in correspondence
with John Warriston, the Clerk Register of Parliament, and Gillespie
and Guthrie, two ministers of the Kirk, who protested against having
anything to do with the son of the beheaded Charles Stuart, who was an
enemy to the Kirk, and whose son himself was a thorough Malignant. They
drew up a Remonstrance of the Western army, in which they termed the
king an incarnate solecism, and refused to fight under either him or
Leslie. Cromwell, who saw little to prevent a union with this party,
professing his old veneration for the Covenant, opened a communication
with them, arguing that Charles ought to be banished, and thus remove
the need of an English interference. In order to effect a coalition
with these commanders, Cromwell marched to Glasgow, where he arrived
on Friday, October 18th; and on Sunday, in the cathedral, listened to
a violent sermon against him and his army from the Reverend Zachary
Boyd. Coming to no agreement with Kerr and Strachan, he returned on
Monday towards Edinburgh, and found many men advising that they shall
give up the "hypocrite," meaning Charles, and make peace with England;
but Kerr and Strachan, though their Remonstrance was voted a scandalous
libel by Parliament, could not agree to this. They, in fact, differed
in opinion. Strachan resigned his commission, and soon after came
over with eighty troopers to Cromwell. Kerr showed a hostile aspect,
agreeing with neither one party nor another, and soon came to nothing.
Cromwell sent Lambert to look after him with three thousand horse, and
Lambert, whilst lying at Hamilton, found himself suddenly attacked by
Kerr. He, however, repulsed him, took him prisoner, killed a hundred
of his men, losing himself only six, and took two hundred prisoners,
horse and foot. The Western army was wholly dispersed. The condition
of the Covenanting Scots was now deplorable; the Remonstrants, though
they had lost their army, still continued to quarrel with the official
or Argyll's party, and the country was thus torn by the two factions,
under the name of Remonstrants and Resolutionists, when it should
have been united against the enemy. Cromwell was now master of all the
Lowlands, casting longing glances towards Stirling and Perth, which
were in the hands of the royal party, and thus ended the year 1650.

On the first day of the new year, 1651, Charles rode, or rather was
led, in procession, by his partisans to the church at Scone, and
there solemnly crowned. There, on his knees, he swore to maintain
the Covenant, to establish Presbyterianism, and embrace it himself,
to establish it in his other dominions as soon as he recovered them.
Argyll then placed the crown on his head, and Douglas, the minister,
read him a severe lecture on the calamities which had followed the
apostacy of his grandfather and father, and on his being a king only by
compact with his people. But the fall of the Western army had weakened
the rigid Presbyterian party. Argyll saw his influence decline, that
of the Hamiltons in the ascendant, and numbers of the old Royalists
pouring in to join the army. Charles's force soon displayed the
singular spectacle of Leslie and Middleton in united command, and the
army, swelled by the Royalists, was increased to twenty thousand men.
Having fortified the passes of the Forth, the king thus awaited the
movements of Cromwell. But the lord-general, during the spring, was
suffering so much from the ague, that he contemplated returning home.
In May, however, he grew better, and advanced towards Stirling. Whilst
he occupied the attention of Charles and his army by his manœuvres in
that quarter, he directed Lambert to make an attempt upon Fife, which
succeeded, and Cromwell, crossing the Forth, advanced to support him.
The royal army quickly evacuated Perth, after a sharp action, in which
about eight hundred men on each side fell, and the Parliament colours
were hoisted on the walls of that city.

If Cromwell's movement had been rapid and successful, he was now in
his turn astonished by one as extraordinary on the part of the Prince.
Charles saw that all the south of Scotland and a great part of England
was clear of the enemy, and he at once announced his determination to
march towards London. On the 31st of July his army was actually in
motion, and Argyll, denouncing the enterprise as inevitably ruinous,
resigned his commission and retired to Inverary.

On discovering Charles's object, Cromwell put the forces to remain in
Scotland under the command of General Monk, sent Lambert from Fife
to follow the royal army with three thousand cavalry, and wrote to
Harrison in Newcastle to advance and harass the flank of Charles's
army. He himself, on the 7th of August, commenced his march after it
with ten thousand men.

Charles advanced at a rapid rate, and he had crossed the Mersey before
Lambert and Harrison had formed a junction near Warrington, and
attempted to draw him into a battle on Knutsford Heath. But Charles
continued his hasty march till he reached Worcester, where he was
received with loud acclamations by the mayor and corporation, and by a
number of county gentlemen, who had been confined there on suspicion
of their disaffection, but were now liberated. But such had been the
sudden appearance of Charles, that no expectation of it, and therefore
no preparation for it, had been made by the Royalists; and the bigoted
ministers attending his army sternly refused all who offered to join
them, whether Presbyterians, Episcopalians, or Catholics, because
they had not taken the Covenant. It was in vain that Charles gave
orders to the contrary, and sent forward General Massey to receive
and bring into order these volunteers; the Committee of the Kirk
rejected them, whilst Cromwell's forces on their march were growing by
continual reinforcements, especially of the county militias. Colonel
Robert Lilburne met with a party of Charles's forces under the Earl of
Derby, between Chorley and Wigan, and defeated them, killing the Lord
Widdrington, Sir Thomas Tildesley, and Colonels Boynton, Trollope, and
Throgmorton. Derby himself was wounded, but escaped.

Charles issued a proclamation for all his male subjects between the
ages of sixteen and sixty to join his standard on the 26th of August;
but on that day he found that the whole of his forces amounted to only
twelve thousand men, whilst Cromwell, who arrived two days after, was
at the head of at least thirty thousand. On the 3rd of September, the
anniversary of the battle of Dunbar, Cromwell determined to attack the
royal army. Lambert, overnight, crossed the Severn at Upton, with ten
thousand men, and the next morning Cromwell and Fleetwood, with the
two other divisions of the army, crossed, Cromwell the Severn, and
Fleetwood the Teme. Charles, who had been watching their progress from
the tower of the cathedral, descended and attacked Fleetwood before he
had effected his passage; but Cromwell was soon up to the assistance
of his general, and after a stout battle, first in the meadows, and
then in the streets of the city, the forces of Charles were completely
beaten. Charles fought with undaunted bravery, and endeavoured to rally
his soldiers for a last effort, but they flung down their weapons and
surrendered. It was with difficulty that he was prevailed upon to fly,
and save his life. Three thousand of the Royalists were slain, and
six or seven thousand made prisoners, including a considerable number
of noblemen--the Duke of Hamilton, but mortally wounded, the Earls
of Rothes, Derby, Cleveland, Kelly, and Lauderdale, Lords Sinclair,
Kenmure, and Grandison, and the Generals Leslie, Massey, Middleton, and
Montgomery. The Duke of Buckingham, Lord Talbot, and others, escaped
with many adventures.

It was an overthrow complete, and most astonishing to both conquered
and conquerors. Cromwell, in his letter to the Parliament, styled
it "a crowning mercy." The Earl of Derby and seven others of the
prisoners suffered death as traitors and rebels to the Commonwealth.
Derby offered the Isle of Man for his ransom, but his letter was read
by Lenthall to the House too late, and he was executed at Bolton, in
Lancashire.

As for Charles himself, the romance of his escape has been celebrated
in many narratives. After being concealed for some days at White-ladies
and Boscobel, two solitary houses in Shropshire, and passing a day in
the boughs of an oak, he made his way in various disguises, and by the
assistance of different loyal friends, to Brighton, whence he passed in
a collier over to Fécamp in Normandy, but this was not till the 17th of
October, forty-four days after the battle of Worcester.

On the 12th of September Cromwell arrived in town; Bulstrode,
Whitelock, and three other gentlemen had been sent down to meet him and
conduct him to London. They met him near Aylesbury, and they all joined
a hawking party by the way. At Aylesbury they passed the night. Oliver
was very affable, and presented to each of the commissioners a horse
taken in the battle and a couple of Scottish prisoners. At Acton, the
Speaker of the Commons, the Lord President, and many other members of
Parliament and of the Council, the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Sheriffs,
and crowds of other people, met him, and congratulated him on his
splendid victory and his successes in Scotland. The Recorder, in his
address, said he was destined to "bind kings in chains and their nobles
in fetters of iron." In London he was received with immense shoutings
and acclamations. Parliament voted that the 3rd of September should
be kept ever after as a holiday, in memory of his victory; and, in
addition to twenty-five thousand pounds a year already granted in land,
they settled on him another forty thousand pounds a year in land.

Thus the royal party was for a time broken and put down. In Ireland
Cromwell had left his son-in-law Ireton as his deputy, who went on
with a strong hand crushing all opposition. The Roman Catholic party
growing weary of Ormond, he had resigned his lord-deputyship, and
Clanricarde had succeeded him. Still the Catholic party was divided in
itself, and Ormond, and after him Clanricarde, entered into a treaty
with the Duke of Lorraine, who agreed to send an army to Ireland to
put down the Parliament, on condition that he should be declared
Protector-royal of Ireland, with all the rights pertaining to the
office; an office, in fact, never before heard of. The Irish Royalists
obtained, however, at different times, twenty thousand pounds from
Lorraine, and his agents were still negotiating for his protectorship,
when the defeat of Charles at Worcester showed Lorraine the folly of
his hopes. Disappointed in this expectation of assistance from abroad,
the Irish Royalists found themselves vigorously attacked by Ireton. In
June he invested Limerick, and on the 27th of October it surrendered.
Ireton tried and put to death seven of the leaders of the party. The
court-martial refused to condemn the brave O'Neil, though Ireton urged
his death for his stubborn defence of Clonmel. When Terence O'Brien,
Bishop of Emly, was condemned, he exclaimed to Ireton, "I appeal to the
tribunal of God, and summon thee to meet me at that bar." These words
were deemed prophetic, and were remembered with wonder when, about a
month afterwards, Ireton fell ill of fever and died (Nov. 15, 1651).

Cromwell appointed General Lambert his deputy in Ireland. The
appointment was cancelled before Lambert could pass over to that
country, as it is said, through the management of Ireton's widow,
Cromwell's daughter Bridget. The handsome wife of Lambert had
refused--her husband being now Lord-Deputy--to give precedence to
Mrs. Ireton in St. James's Park, where they met one day. Mrs. Ireton
took offence, and prevailed on her father to revoke the appointment,
and give it to Fleetwood, whom she soon after married, and so Lambert
returned to Ireland in his former position. It is believed that Lambert
never forgave the affront, though Cromwell endeavoured to soothe him,
and made him compensation in money; for he was found to be one of the
first to oppose Richard Cromwell after his father's death, and depose
him from the protectorate. Ludlow and three others were joined with
Fleetwood, so far as the civil administration of Ireland was concerned,
and they were ordered to levy sufficient money for the payment of the
forces, not exceeding forty thousand pounds a month; and to exclude
Papists from all places of trust, from practising as barristers, or
teaching in any kind of school. Thus the bulk of the natives were
deprived of all participation in the affairs of their own country, and,
what was worse, might be imprisoned or removed from one part of the
country at the will of these dictators.

[Illustration: CROMWELL ON HIS WAY TO LONDON AFTER THE BATTLE OF
WORCESTER. (_See p._ 107.)]

In Scotland Monk carried matters with the same high hand. On the 14th
of August he compelled Stirling to surrender, and sent off the royal
robes, part of the regalia, and the National Records to London. He then
commenced the siege of Dundee, and whilst it was progressing he sent
Colonels Alured and Morgan to Alyth in Angus, where he surprised the
two Committees of the Estates and the Kirk, with many other noblemen
and gentlemen, to the number of three hundred, amongst them poor old
Leslie, Earl of Leven, met on Royalist affairs, and sent them after the
regalia to England. On the 1st of September Monk stormed Dundee, and
gave up the town to the plunder and violence of the soldiery. There
were said to be eight hundred soldiers and inhabitants killed, of whom
three hundred were women and children. The place had been considered
so safe that many people had sent their property there for security,
and this and the ships in the harbour all fell into the hands of the
conquerors. They are said to have got two hundred thousand pounds in
booty, and perpetrated the most unheard-of atrocities. The fate of
Dundee induced Montrose, Aberdeen, and St. Andrews to open their gates.
The Earl of Huntly and Lord Balcarres submitted, and scarcely any
noblemen of note, except Argyll, held out; and he did so merely for the
purpose of making good terms with the Parliament.

The most vigorous means were adopted to keep the country in check.
Military stations were appointed throughout the Highlands, and sites
fixed upon for the erection of strong forts at Ayr, Leith, Perth,
and Inverness. The property and estates of the Crown were declared
forfeited to Parliament, as well as the lands of all who had taken
arms under the Duke of Hamilton or the king against England. English
judges were sent to go the circuits, assisted by Scottish ones, and
one hundred and thirty thousand pounds a year were voted for the
maintenance of the army in Scotland, which was raised to twenty
thousand men. These were galling measures for the Scots, who had hoped
to subject England again to the king, but they were far from the most
humiliating. Vane, St. John, and six other commissioners were appointed
to settle a plan for the incorporation of Scotland with England. They
met at Dalkeith, and summoned the representatives of the counties
and the burghs to assemble and consult with them on the matter. The
ministers thundered from their pulpits against a union, and especially
against putting the Kirk under the power of the State; but twenty-eight
out of thirty shires, and forty-four out of fifty-eight burghs
complied, and sent up twenty-one deputies to sit with the Parliamentary
commissioners at Westminster, to settle the terms of the union. The
power of the English Parliament, or rather of the army, was now so
supreme, that both in Scotland and Ireland resistance was vain.

[Illustration: HENRY IRETON. (_After the Portrait by Cooper._)]

The all-absorbing interest of the events of the last several unexampled
years within the kingdom, has prevented our noticing the transactions
of the Commonwealth with the other kingdoms of Europe. We must now
recount these. Prince Rupert, by his cruising on the coasts of England
and Ireland, had not only kept the nation in alarm, but had inflicted
great injury on the coasts and commerce of the realm. In the spring
of 1649 he lay in the harbour of Kinsale, keeping the way open for
the landing of the foreign troops expected to accompany Charles
II. to Ireland. But Vane, to whom was entrusted the naval affairs,
commissioned Blake, Dean, and Monk, three army officers, who showed
themselves as able at sea as on land, to look after him, and the
victories of Cromwell in Ireland warned him in the autumn to remove.
He found himself blockaded by the English fleet, but in his impetuous
way he burst through the enclosing squadron with the loss of only three
ships, and took refuge in the Tagus. In the following March Blake
presented himself at that river, and demanded of the King of Portugal
permission to attack the pirate, as he termed him, at his anchorage.
The king refused; Blake attempted, notwithstanding, to force his way
up the river to Rupert's fleet, but he was assailed by the batteries
from both shores, and was compelled to retire. This was deemed a
declaration of war by the Republic, and Blake was ordered to seize
any Portuguese ships that fell in his way. Don John thereupon seized
the English merchants in his dominions, and confiscated their goods.
But the ravages committed by Blake on his subjects soon induced him
to order Rupert to retire from the Tagus, who sailed thence into the
Mediterranean, where he continued to practise open piracy, capturing
ships of almost all nations. He afterwards sailed to the West Indies to
escape the English admirals, and inflicted there great injuries both
on the English and Spanish. His brother Maurice was there lost in a
storm, and in 1652 Rupert, beset by the English captains, made his way
again to Europe, and sold his two men-of-war to Cardinal Mazarin. The
Portuguese, freed from the presence of Rupert, soon sent Don Guimaraes
to London to treat for a pacification, but the treaty was not finally
concluded till after Cromwell had attained to supreme power.

The King of Spain, who never forgave Charles I. the insult put upon his
sister and the whole kingdom, acknowledged the Republic from the first
moment of its establishment by continuing the presence of Cardenas, his
ambassador. The King of Spain made use of his ambassador in London to
excite the Commonwealth against Portugal and the United Provinces, but
an unlucky accident threatened to disturb even this alliance, the only
one between the Commonwealth and the Courts of the Continent. As Spain
kept an ambassador in London, the Parliament resolved to send one to
Madrid, and for this purpose they selected a gentleman of the name of
Ascham. He did not understand Spanish, and therefore he employed three
friars, who accompanied him and informed him of all that he wanted to
know regarding Spain. But he was no sooner arrived than half a dozen
Royalist English officers, who had served in the Spanish army against
Portugal, and in Calabria, went to his inn, and finding him at dinner,
exclaimed, "Welcome, gallants, welcome!" and ran him and Riba, one of
the friars, through with their swords. This was precisely what some
Royalists had done to Dorislaus, the Parliamentary ambassador to the
Hague, in 1649; for these Cavaliers, with all their talk of honour,
had no objection to an occasional piece of assassination. One of the
servants of Charles II.'s ambassadors, Hyde and Cottington, was one of
the assassins, which brought the ambassadors into suspicion; but they
protested firmly against any participation in so base a business. The
assassins fled to a church for sanctuary, except one who got to the
Venetian ambassador's, and so escaped. The other five were brought
from their asylum, tried, and condemned to die, but the courtiers
sympathised so much with the Royalists, that they were returned again
to their asylum, except a Protestant of the name of Sparkes, who,
being taken a few miles from the city, was put to death. This matter
blowing over, the peace with Spain continued. With Holland the case was
different.

Holland, being itself a Republic, might have been expected to
sympathise and fraternise with the English Commonwealth, but the
circumstances of the Court prevented the spread of this feeling. The
Stadtholder, William II., had married the Princess Royal of England,
the daughter of Charles I., and sister of Charles II. From the first
of the contest, therefore, Holland had supported the claims of both
the Charleses. The second Charles had spent much of his exile at the
Hague, not being at all cordially received in France, where his mother
resided. His brother, the Duke of York, had long resided there, as
Rupert and Maurice had done before. There was thus a great league
between the family of the Stadtholder and the Stuart faction, and the
Stadtholders themselves were gradually making themselves as despotic
as any princes of Europe. All the money which enabled the Stuarts in
England to make head and invade it from Scotland came from the Hague.
On the other hand, the large Republican party in Holland, which was
at strife with the Stadtholder on account of his regal and despotic
doctrines, looked with favour on the proceedings of the English
Parliament, and thus awoke a deep jealousy in the Stadtholder's Court
of the English Parliament, which entertained ideas of coalescing with
Holland into one great Republic.

From these causes no satisfaction could ever be obtained from the
Stadtholder for the murder of Dr. Dorislaus, nor would he admit
Strickland, the ambassador of the Parliament, to an audience. But on
the 6th of November, 1650, William died of small-pox, and on the 14th
of that month his widow gave birth to William III., who afterwards
became King of England. The infancy of the Stadtholder now encouraged
the Republican party to abolish that office, and to restore the more
democratic form of government. On this, the Parliament of England,
in the commencement of 1651, determined to send ambassadors to the
States, and in addition to Strickland sent St. John, the Chief Justice
of the Common Pleas. But no good was done. There were numbers of
English Royalists still hanging about at the Hague, and the Dutch,
through the internal wars of England, France, and Spain, had grown so
prosperous that they were become proud and insolent, and had come to
regard the English Parliament, through the misrepresentation of their
enemies, as a power that they might treat with contempt. St. John found
insurmountable difficulties in negotiating with the rude, haughty
States-General. He was openly insulted in the streets of the Hague;
the ignorant populace hooted and hissed him and his colleague, and the
Royalists were suffered to annoy them with impunity.

The Parliament of England had in good faith proposed their scheme
of confederacy against their common enemies both by sea and land,
but the States-General made so many objections and delays that the
term fixed for the negotiation expired, and the English ambassadors
took their leave in disgust. The battle of Worcester awoke the Dutch
to their mistake, and they then sent in haste to propose terms of
alliance on their part, but it was too late. St. John, strong in
his feelings as he was deep in his intellect, had represented their
conduct in such terms that the English Parliament received them with
a cool haughtiness the counterpart of their own in the late attempt
at treaty. St. John had also employed himself in a measure of revenge
on the Dutch which was in its effects most disastrous to them. Owing
to the embarrassments of the other European States, the Dutch had
grown not only to be the chief merchants of the nations, but the great
carriers of all mercantile goods. Parliament passed a Navigation Act,
by which it was forbidden to introduce any of the products of Asia,
Africa, or America into England, except in English vessels, or any of
the manufactures of Europe, except in English ships or the ships of the
countries which produced them. This at one blow lopped off the greater
part of the commerce of Holland, and the demands of the ambassador
that this terrible Act should be repealed, or at least suspended till
the conclusion of a treaty, were totally disregarded. But this was
not the only offensive weapon which St. John's resentment had found.
Letters of marque had been issued against French vessels, and they
were permitted to be used against Dutch ones, on pretence that they
had French property on board. Still more, the massacre of the English
at Amboyna, which had been lightly passed over, owing to the desire of
the English Court to maintain the alliance of Holland against Spain,
had never been forgotten by the English people, and there were now loud
demands, especially from the sailors, that all survivors of the Dutch
concerned in that murder should be given up. In fact, a determined
spirit of hostility had sprung up between the two maritime nations.
The Dutch, at the call of their merchants for protection, prepared a
fleet, and placed at the head of it the three greatest admirals that
their nation ever produced--Van Tromp, De Ruyter, and De Witt. The
English Parliament, on their part, ordered their admirals to insist on
the same homage being paid to their flag in the narrow seas as had been
paid to that of the king. They also demanded indemnification for the
losses sustained in the East Indies from the Dutch, and insisted on the
stipulated contribution of the tenth herring from the Dutch fishermen
in the British seas.

It was impossible, under such circumstances, that hostilities should be
long deferred. Commodore Young was the first to call on the convoy of
a fleet of Dutch merchantmen to salute the British flag. They refused,
and Young attacked them so smartly that in the end they complied. In a
few days Van Tromp, who was a zealous partisan of Orange, and therefore
of the house of Stuart, appeared in the Downs with two-and-forty sail.
To Commodore Bourne, whom he found there, he disclaimed any hostile
intentions, but pleaded the loss of several anchors and cables for
putting in; but the next day, being the 19th of May, he encountered
Blake off Dover, and that commander, though he had only twenty ships,
demanded that Van Tromp should do homage to his flag. Van Tromp
refused, and sailed right on till he came nearly opposite Blake, when
the English admiral fired a gun three successive times at the Dutch
admiral's flag. Van Tromp returned the compliment by firing a broadside
into Blake's ship; and the two fleets were instantly engaged, and a
desperate battle was fought from three in the afternoon till darkness
separated them. The English had taken two ships, one of which, on
account of the damage done it, was allowed to sink.

There was much dispute between the two countries which was the
aggressor; but it appears the most probable fact that Van Tromp
sought an occasion to resist the demand of lowering the Dutch flag
to the English one, and found an admiral as prepared to assert that
superiority as he was to dispute it.

The English Parliament immediately issued strict orders to all its
commodores to pursue and destroy all the ships of the Dutch fleet that
they could find on the seas; and in the space of a month they took
or burnt seventy sail of merchantmen, besides several men-of-war.
The Dutch protested that the battle had not been sought by them, and
proposed inquiry, and the punishment of whichever of the commanders
should be proved the aggressor; but the Parliament replied that it was
satisfied that the States were bent on usurping the rights of England
on the seas, and on destroying the fleets, which were the walls and
bulwarks of the nation, and therefore that it was necessary to stand
on the defensive. The States sent De Pauw to reiterate the assurances
of their peaceful intentions, and to urge the court of inquiry; but
the Parliament was now as high as the States had been before, and
insisted on reparation and security. De Pauw demanded what these terms
meant, and was answered, full compensation for all the expense that the
Commonwealth had been put to by the hostile preparations of the States,
and a confederation for the mutual protection of the two nations. De
Pauw knew that the first of these terms would be declined, and took his
leave. On the 19th of July the Parliament proclaimed war against the
States.

The Dutch were by no means afraid of the war, though they dreaded the
destruction of their trade which it would occasion. They had acquired
a great reputation as a naval people, and the sailors were eager to
encounter the English, and revenge their defeat upon them. Van Tromp
once more appeared with seventy sail of the line, and boasted that he
would sweep the English from the face of the ocean. The Vice-Admiral
Sir George Ayscough (or Ayscue), had just returned victorious from the
reduction of Barbadoes, and was left in charge of the Channel whilst
Blake went northward, in quest of the squadron which protected the
Dutch fishermen. Van Tromp could not come up with Ayscough, owing to
a change of wind; he, therefore, went northward after Blake, who had
captured the Dutch squadron, and made the fishermen pay the tenth
herring, but a storm dispersed Van Tromp's fleet, several of his ships
falling into the hands of the English. When he again returned to port,
he was received with great indignation by the people, who had expected
wonders from him, and in his mortification he resigned.

De Ruyter was advanced into his post, and put to sea in charge of a
merchant fleet, and in return fell in with Ayscough off Plymouth, who
broke through his line, but was not followed up vigorously by the
captains of the other vessels, and the Dutch ships escaped. Ayscough
was superseded, the Parliament suspecting him of a royal tendency.

De Ruyter joined De Witt, and attacked Blake, who had under him
Admirals Bourne and Penn, and a fierce engagement took place, which
lasted the whole of the 28th of September. The next morning the Dutch
were seen bearing away for their own coasts, several of their vessels
having gone down, and one of them being taken. Blake gave chase as far
as Goree, but could not pursue them amongst the shoals and sandbanks,
where the small vessels of the Dutch had taken refuge. Wherever English
and Dutch ships now met, there was battle. There was an affray between
them in the Mediterranean, where Van Galen, with a greatly superior
force, attacked and defeated Captain Baily, but was himself slain; the
King of Denmark also joined the Dutch with five ships, laid an embargo
on English merchandise in the Baltic, and closed the Sound against
them. There were, moreover, numerous vessels under the French flag
cruising about in quest of merchantmen.

As winter, however, approached, Blake, supposing the campaign would
cease till spring, dispersed a number of his vessels to different
ports, and was lying in the Downs with only thirty-seven sail, when
he was surprised by a fleet of eighty men-of-war, and ten fire-ships.
It was Van Tromp, whom the States had again prevailed on to take
the command, and who came vehement for the recovery of his tarnished
reputation. Blake's stout heart refused to shrink from even so unequal
a contest; and he fought the whole Dutch fleet with true English
bulldogism, from ten in the morning till six in the evening, when the
increasing darkness led to a cessation of hostilities on both sides.
Blake took advantage of the night to get up the Thames as far as the
quaint fishing village of Leigh. He had managed to blow up a Dutch
ship, disable two others, and to do much damage generally to the Dutch
fleet; but he had lost five ships himself. Van Tromp and De Ruyter
sailed to and fro at the mouth of the river, and along the coast
from the North Foreland to the Isle of Wight, in triumph, and then
convoyed home the Dutch and French fleets. There was huge rejoicing in
Holland over the great English admiral, which, considering the immense
inequality of the fleets, was really an honour to Blake, for it showed
how they esteemed his genius and courage. The whole of Holland was full
of bravado at blocking up the Thames, and forcing the English to an
ignominious peace. Van Tromp was so elated, that he stuck a besom at
his masthead, intimating that he would sweep the English from off the
seas.

[Illustration: ROYAL MUSEUM AND PICTURE GALLERY, THE HAGUE.]

The English Parliament, during the winter, made strenuous efforts to
wipe out this reverse. They refitted and put in order all their ships,
ordered two regiments of infantry to be ready to embark as marines,
raised the wages of the seamen, ordered their families to be maintained
during their absence on service, and increased the rate of prize money.
They sent for Monk from Scotland, and joined him and Dean in command
with Blake.

The Dutch navy was estimated at this period at a hundred and fifty
sail, and was flushed with success; but Blake was resolved to take down
their pride, and lay ready for the first opportunity. This occurred on
the 18th of February, 1653. Van Tromp appeared sailing up the Channel
with seventy-two ships of war and thirty armed traders, convoying a
homeward-bound merchant fleet of three hundred sail. His orders were,
having seen the merchantmen safe home, to return and blockade the
Thames. Blake saved him the trouble, by issuing from port with eighty
men-of-war, and posting himself across the Channel. Van Tromp signalled
the merchant fleet under his convoy to take care of themselves, and the
battle between him and Blake commenced with fury. The action took place
not far from Cape La Hogue, on the coast of France. Blake and Dean, who
were both on board the _Triumph_, led the way, and their ship received
seven hundred shots in her hull. The battle lasted the whole day, in
which the Dutch had six ships taken or sunk, the English losing none,
but Blake was severely wounded.

The next day the fight was renewed off Weymouth as fiercely as before,
and was continued all day, and at intervals through the night; and
on the third day the conflict still raged till four o'clock in the
afternoon, when the wind carrying the contending fleets towards the
shallow waters between Boulogne and Calais, Van Tromp, with his lesser
ships, escaped from the English, and pursued his course homewards,
carrying the merchant fleet safely there. In the three days' fight
the Dutch, according to their own account, had lost nine men-of-war
and twenty-four merchantmen; according to the English account, eleven
men-of-war and thirty merchantmen. They had two thousand men killed,
and fifteen hundred taken prisoners. The English had only one ship
sunk, though many of their vessels were greatly damaged, and their
loss of killed and wounded was very severe. But they had decidedly
beaten the enemy, and the excitement in Holland, on the return of the
crest-fallen though valiant boaster Van Tromp, was universal. It was
now the turn of the English sailors to boast, who declared that they
had paid off the Dutch for Amboyna. But the defeat of their navy was
nothing in comparison to the general mischief done to their trade
and merchant shipping. Their fisheries employed one hundred thousand
persons: these were entirely stopped; the Channel was now closed to
their fleet, and in the Baltic the English committed continual ravages
on their traders. Altogether, they had now lost sixteen hundred
ships, and they once more condescended to seek for accommodation with
the English Parliament, which, however, treated them with haughty
indifference; and it was, therefore, with great satisfaction that they
now beheld the change which took place in England.

The Reformers of various shades and creeds had at first been combined
by the one great feeling of rescuing the country from the absolute
principles of the Stuarts. They had fought bravely side by side for
this great object; but in proportion as they succeeded, the differences
between themselves became more apparent. The Presbyterians, Scots and
English, were bent on fixing their religious opinions on the country
as despotically as the Catholics and Episcopalians had done before
them. But here they found themselves opposed by the Independents,
who had notions of religious freedom far beyond the Presbyterians,
and were not inclined to yield their freedom to any other party
whatever. Their religious notions naturally disposed them towards the
same equalising system in the State, and as the chiefs of the army
were of this denomination, they soon found themselves in a condition
to dictate to the parliament. Pride's Purge left Parliament almost
purely independent, and it and the army worked harmoniously till the
sweeping victories of Cromwell created a jealousy of his power. This
power was the more supreme because circumstances had dispersed the
other leading generals into distant scenes of action. Monk and Lambert
were in Scotland till Monk was called to the fleet, Fleetwood was in
Ireland, Ireton was dead. The Long Parliament, or the remnant of it,
called the Rump, ably as it had conducted affairs, was daily decreasing
in numbers, and dreaded to renew itself by election, because it felt
certain that anything like a free election would return an overwhelming
number of Presbyterians, and that they would thus commit an act of
_felo de se_.

At no period did what is called the Commonwealth of England present
any of the elements of what we conceive by a republic, that is, by
a government of the free representatives of the people. Had the
people been allowed to send their representatives, there would have
been a considerable number of Catholics, a much greater number of
Episcopalians, and both of these sections Royalists. There would have
been an overwhelming number of Presbyterians, and a very moderate one
of Independents. The Government was, therefore, speedily converted
into an oligarchy, at the head of which were the generals of the army,
and some few of the leaders of Parliament. The army, by Pride's Purge,
reduced the Parliament to a junto, by turning out forcibly the majority
of the representatives of the people, and the time was now fast
approaching when it must resolve itself into a military dictatorship.

Cromwell had long been accused by his own party of aiming at the
possession of the supreme power. At what time such ideas began to
dawn in his mind is uncertain; but as he felt himself rising above all
his contemporaries by the energy and the comprehensive character of
his mind, there is no doubt that he secretly indulged them. Ludlow,
Whitelock, Hutchinson, and others, felt that such was the spirit
growing in him; and many of those who had most admired his genius fell
away from him, and openly denounced his ambitious intentions as they
became more obvious. The excellent Colonel Hutchinson and Sir Henry
Vane charged him with the ruin of the Commonwealth. But Cromwell must
have long felt that nothing but a military power could maintain the
ascendency of those principles which he and his fellow Independents
entertained and held sacred. The world was not prepared for them. The
roots of royalty were too deeply struck into the heart of the nation by
centuries of its existence, to be torn out by the follies and tyrannies
of one family. But if a free Parliament, which it had been the proud
boast of the Reformers to be the sole seat of the national power, could
not exist; if the sitting body calling itself a Parliament could not
even add to its members without endangering its own existence either
from itself or from the jealousy of the army--what could exist? Clearly
nothing but a dictatorship, and the strongest man must come uppermost.
That strongest man was without a question Cromwell.

As early as 1649 two Bills had been brought in to settle questions
urgently demanded by the people, an act for a general amnesty, and
for the termination of the present Parliament. On his return from the
battle of Worcester, Cromwell reminded Parliament that these essential
measures had not been completed. He carried the amnesty, so that all
acts of hostility against the present Government previous to the battle
of Worcester were pardoned, and the Royalists relieved from the fear of
fresh forfeitures. The termination of Parliament was fixed for the 3rd
of November, 1654, and the interval of three years was to be zealously
employed in framing a scheme for the election of a new Parliament
on the safest principles. At the same time Cromwell was living at
Whitehall, in the house of the beheaded king, and with almost the state
and power of a sovereign. He summoned, therefore, the council of the
army, and discussed amongst them what they deemed necessary to be done.

In this council it was agitated as to the best form of government for
England, whether a pure republic, or a government with something of
monarchy in it. The officers were for a republic, the lawyers for
a limited monarchy. Cromwell agreed that the government must have
something of monarchy in it, and asked who they would choose if that
were decided? The lawyers said Charles Stuart, or if they found him
too much bent on power, his brother the Duke of Gloucester. There can
be little doubt but that this was a feeler on the part of Cromwell,
and as he was never likely to acquiesce in the restoration of a family
which they had put down at so much cost, it would have the effect of
causing him to proceed with caution. He had ascertained that the army
was opposed to a king; the lawyers thought of no king but one from the
old royal line. These were facts to be pondered.

Meanwhile the Parliament, without proceeding to lay a platform for its
successor, evidenced a jealousy of the ascendency of the army; it voted
a reduction of one-fourth of the army, and of the monthly assessment
for its support from one hundred and twenty thousand pounds to ninety
thousand pounds. In June, 1652, it proposed a fresh reduction, but
this was opposed by the military council, and in August the officers
appeared at the bar of the House with a petition, calling the attention
of the Parliament to the great question of the qualifications of
future parliaments, to reform of the law and religious abuses, to the
dismissal of disaffected and scandalous persons from office, to the
arrears due to the army, and to reform of malpractices in the Excise
and the Treasury.

The contest between the army and the Parliament was evidently growing
every day more active. The Commons had no desire to lay down their
authority and, to retain their existence, even showed a leaning towards
introducing a number of Presbyterians under the name of "Neuters."
To such a project the army was never likely to assent, and Cromwell
proposed, in the council at Whitehall, that Parliament should be at
once dissolved, and a national council of forty persons, with himself
at their head, should conduct affairs till a new Parliament could be
called on established principles. The opinion, however, was that such
a proceeding would be dangerous, and the authority of the council be
looked upon as unwarrantable.

Whilst these matters were in agitation, Whitelock says that Cromwell,
on the 8th of November, 1652, desired a private interview with him, and
in this urged the necessity of taking prompt and efficient measures for
securing the great objects for which they had fought, and which he
termed the mercies and successes which God had conferred on the nation.
He inveighed warmly against the Parliament, and declared that the army
began to entertain a strange distaste to it; adding that he wished
there were not too much reason for it. "And really," he continued,
"their pride, their self-seeking, their engrossing all places of honour
and profit to themselves and their friends; their daily breaking
forth into new and violent parties and factions; their delays of
business, and designs to perpetuate themselves, and to continue the
power in their own hands; their meddling in private matters between
party and party, contrary to the institution of Parliament; their
injustice and partiality in these matters, and the scandalous lives
of some of the chief of them, do give much ground for people to open
their mouths against them, and to dislike them." He concluded by
insisting on the necessity of some controlling power over them to check
these extravagances, or else nothing could prevent the ruin of the
Commonwealth.

Whitelock admitted the truth of most of this, but defended the
Parliament generally, and reminded Cromwell that it was the
Parliament which had granted them their authority, and to Cromwell
even his commission, and that it would be hard for them, under those
circumstances, to curb their power.

But Cromwell broke out--"We all forget God, and God will forget us. God
will give us up to confusion, and these men will help it on if they
be suffered to proceed in their ways." And then, after some further
talk, he suddenly observed, "What if a man should take upon him to
be king?" Whitelock saw plainly enough what Oliver was thinking of,
and replied as if he had directly asked whether he should assume that
office himself. He told him that it would not do, and that he was much
better off, and more influential as he was. "As to your person," he
observed, "the title of king would be of no advantage, because you have
the full kingly power already concerning the militia." He reminded
him that in the appointment of civil offices, though he had no formal
veto, his will was as much consulted as if he had, and so in all other
departments, domestic and foreign. Moreover, he now had the power
without the envy and danger which the pomp and circumstance of a king
would bring.

Cromwell still argued the point; contending that though a man usurped
the title without royal descent, yet the possession of the crown was
declared by an Act of Henry VII. to make a good title, and to indemnify
the reigning king and all his ministers for their acts. Whitelock
replied that, let their enemies once get the better of them, all such
bills and indemnifications would be little regarded; and that to assume
the crown would at once convert the quarrel into one not between the
king and the nation, but between Charles Stuart and Oliver Cromwell.
Cromwell admitted this, but asked what other course he could propose.
Whitelock said that of making a good bargain with Charles, who was now
down, and might be treated with just on what terms they pleased; or if
they thought him too confirmed in his opinions, there was the Duke of
York or the Duke of Gloucester. Cromwell did not appear pleased with
this suggestion; in fact, he had resolved to seize the chief power
in some shape himself--and even had he not, he had too much common
sense to agree to admit any one of the deposed family again to the
throne, which would be to put their necks in the certain noose of royal
vengeance. The death of Charles I. could never be forgiven. From this
time, Whitelock says, though he made no accusation against Cromwell,
yet "his carriage towards me from that time was altered, and his
advising with me not so frequent and intimate as before."

Cromwell again, however, broached the subject amongst the officers and
members of the Council--St. John, Lenthall the Speaker, Desborough,
Harrison, Fleetwood, and Whalley, not in so direct a manner, but
as that "a settlement, with something of the monarchical in it,
would be very effectual." It does not appear that the project was
very unanimously received by them, but they were agreed that a new
representation must take place, and no "Neuters" should be admitted.
Cromwell said emphatically, "Never shall any of that judgment who
have deserted the cause be admitted to power." On the 19th of April
the debate on this subject was continued very warmly till midnight,
and they separated, to continue the discussion on the next day. Most
of the officers had argued that the Parliament must be dissolved "one
way or another;" but the Parliament men and lawyers, amongst them
Whitelock and Widdrington, contended that a hasty dissolution would be
dangerous, and Cromwell appeared to lean towards the moderate view. But
scarcely had they met the next morning, and found a strange absence of
the members of Parliament, and an almost equal absence of officers,
when Colonel Ingoldsby hastened in and informed them that the Commons
were hard at work pushing forward their Bill for increasing their own
numbers by the introduction of Neuters; and that it was evident that
they meant to hurry it through the House before the Council could be
informed of their attempt. Vane and others, well aware of Cromwell's
design, were thus exerting themselves to defeat it.

[Illustration: CROMWELL ADDRESSING THE LONG PARLIAMENT FOR THE LAST
TIME. (_See p._ 118.)]

At this news Cromwell instantly ordered a file of musketeers to attend
him, and hastened to the House of Commons, attended by Lambert,
Harrison, and some other officers. He left the soldiers in the lobby of
the House, and entering, went straight to his seat, where he sat for
some time listening to the debate. He first spoke to St. John, telling
him that he was come for a purpose which grieved him to the very soul,
and that he had sought the Lord with tears not to impose it upon him;
but there was a necessity, and that the glory of God and the good of
the nation required it. He then beckoned Harrison to him, and said
that he judged that the Parliament was ripe for dissolution. Harrison,
who was a Fifth-Monarchy man, and had been only with much persuasion
brought over to this design, replied, "Sir, the work is very great and
dangerous; I desire you seriously to consider before you engage in it."
"You say well," answered the general, and sat yet about a quarter of
an hour longer. But when the question was about to be put, he said to
Harrison, "This is the time; I must do it;" and starting up, he took
off his hat, and began speaking. At first he spoke of the question
before the House, and commended the Parliament for much that it had
done, and well he might; for whatever its present corruption, it had
nobly supported him and the fleet and army in putting down all their
enemies, and raising the nation in the eyes of foreigners far beyond
its reputation for the last century. But soon he came round to the
corruption and self-seeking of the members, accusing them of being at
that moment engaged in the very work of bringing in the Presbyterians
to destroy all that they had suffered so much to accomplish. Sir Harry
Vane and Peter Wentworth ventured to call him to order, declaring that
that was strange and unparliamentary language from a servant of the
House, and one that they had so much honoured. "I know it," replied
Cromwell; then stepping forward into the middle of the floor, and
putting on his hat, and walking to and fro, casting angry glances at
different members, he exclaimed, "I tell you, you are no Parliament. I
will put an end to your prating. For shame! get you gone! Give place to
honest men; to men who will more faithfully discharge their trust. You
are no longer a Parliament. The Lord has done with you. He has chosen
other instruments for carrying on His work."

With that he stamped upon the floor, and the soldiers appearing at
the door, he bade Harrison bring them in. The musketeers instantly
surrounded him, and laying his hand on the mace, he said, "What shall
we do with this bauble? Take it away," and he handed it to a soldier.
Then looking at Lenthall the Speaker, he said to Harrison, "Fetch him
down!" Lenthall declared that he would not move from his proper post
unless he was forced out of it. "Sir," said Harrison, "I will lend you
a hand," and taking hold of him, he brought him down, and he walked out
of the House. Algernon Sydney, then but a young member, happened to
sit next to the Speaker, and Cromwell said, "Put _him_ out!" Sydney,
like the Speaker, refused to move, but Cromwell reiterated the command,
"Put him out!" and Harrison and Worsley, the lieutenant-colonel of
Cromwell's regiment of Ironsides, laying each a hand on his shoulder,
the young patriot did not wait for the ignominy of being dragged from
his seat, but rose and followed the Speaker. Cromwell then went on
weeding out the members, with epithets of high reproach to each of
them. Alderman Allen bade him pause and send out the soldiers, and
that all might yet be well; but Cromwell only replied, "It is you that
have forced me upon this. I have sought the Lord day and night that
He would rather slay me than put me upon this work." He then charged
the alderman with embezzlement, as treasurer to the army; and taking
first one and then another by the cloak, he said to Challoner, "Thou
art a drunkard!" To Wentworth, "Thou art an adulterer!" To Martin,
"Thou art a still more lewd character!" Vane, as he was forced past
him, exclaimed, "This is not honest; yea, it is against morality
and common honesty." "O, Sir Harry Vane, Sir Harry Vane!" exclaimed
Cromwell, "the Lord deliver me from Sir Harry Vane!" Thus he saw the
House cleared, no one daring to raise a hand against him, though, says
Whitelock, "many wore swords, and would sometimes brag high." When all
were gone, Cromwell locked the door, and put the key in his pocket.
He then returned to Whitehall, and told the Council of officers, who
yet remained sitting, what he had done. "When I went to the House,"
he said, "I did not think to do this, but perceiving the spirit of the
Lord strong upon me, I resolved no longer to consult flesh and blood."

Such was the manner in which the last vestige of representative
government was swept away by Cromwell. Charles I. roused the fiery
indignation of Parliament, and of all England, as a violater of the
privileges of Parliament, by entering the House to seize five members
who had offended him. Cromwell, who had been one of the first to resist
and to avenge this deed, now marched in his soldiers and turned out the
whole Parliament, about fifty members, with impunity. "They went away
so quietly," said Cromwell, "that not a dog barked at their going."
Such is the difference between a private man with a victorious army
at his back, and one who, though with the name of a king, has lost a
nation's confidence by his want of moral honesty. The act of Cromwell
was the death of all constitutional life whatever, it was in opposition
to all parties but the army; yet no man dared assume the attitude of a
patriot; the military Dictatorship was accomplished (April 20, 1653).

Cromwell's whole excuse was necessity; that without his seizure of
the supreme power, the Commonwealth could not exist. It ceased to
exist by his very deed, and if he saved the faint form of a republic,
it was only for five years. As we have seen the great example to the
nations of the responsibility of kings, we have now to see an equally
significant one of the impossibility of maintaining long any form of
government that is not based on the mature opinion and attachment
of the people. Republicanism was not the faith of England in the
seventeenth century, and therefore neither the despotism of Charles
could create a republic with any permanence in it, nor the strenuous
grasp of Cromwell maintain it beyond the term of his own existence.

On the afternoon of this celebrated _coup d'état_, Cromwell proceeded
to Derby House, accompanied by Harrison and Lambert, where the Council
was still sitting, and thus addressed the members:--"Gentlemen, if you
are here met as private persons, you shall not be disturbed; but if as
a Council of State, this is no place for you; and since you cannot but
know what was done at the House this morning, so take notice that the
Parliament is dissolved." Bradshaw, who was presiding, said that they
knew, and that all England would soon know; but that if he thought
that the Parliament was dissolved, he was mistaken, "for that no power
under Heaven could dissolve them, except themselves. Therefore take you
notice of that." Sir Arthur Haselrig and others supported this protest,
and then the Council withdrew.

Cromwell and his party immediately held a council as to what steps were
to be taken, and on the 22nd they issued a declaration in the name of
the Lord-General and his council of officers, ordering all authorities
to continue their functions as before; and in return, addresses of
confidence arrived from generals and admirals. On the 6th of June
Oliver, in his own name as Captain-General and Commander-in-Chief of
all the armies and forces, issued a summons to one hundred and forty
persons to meet and constitute a Parliament. Six were also summoned
from Wales, six from Ireland, and five from Scotland. On the 4th of
July about one hundred and twenty of these persons, of Cromwell's
own selection--persons, according to his summons, "fearing God,
and of approved fidelity and honesty"--met in the Council-chamber
at Whitehall. Many of these were gentlemen of good repute and
abilities--some of them were nobles, others of noble families--as
Colonel Montague, Colonel Howard, and Anthony Ashley Cooper. Others,
however, were of little worldly standing, but had been selected on
account of their religious zeal and character. Amongst them was one
Barbon, a leatherseller in Fleet Street, who had acquired the cognomen
of Praise-God, and whose name being purposely misspelled became
Praise-God Barebone, and the Royalist wits of the time, therefore,
dubbed the Parliament Barebone's Parliament.

The more common appellation of this singular Parliament was "The
Little Parliament." Cromwell opened their session with a very long and
extraordinary speech, in which he gave a history of the past contest
with the monarchy, and the mercies with which they had been crowned
at Naseby, Dunbar, Worcester, and other places; of the backslidings
of the Long Parliament, and the "necessity" to remove it and call
this assembly. He quoted a vast quantity of Scripture, and told them
that they were called of God to introduce practical religion into
State affairs; and he then delivered into their hands an instrument,
consigning to them the supreme power in the State till the 3rd of
September, 1654, three months previous to which date they were to elect
their successors, who were to sit only for a year, and in turn elect
their successors.

This resignation of the supreme power once in his hands, has been
described by historians as a gross piece of hypocrisy, used to avoid
the odium of seizing for himself the power of the Parliament, which
he had forcibly dissolved. Whether that were the case or not, it
certainly was a prudent policy, and a safe one, for he knew very well
that he possessed supreme power as head of the army, and could, if
necessary, dismiss this Parliament as he had done the former one.
In their character of pietists or saints, as they were called, this
Parliament opened its session by electing Francis Rouse their Speaker,
and by exercises of devotion, which continued from eight in the morning
till six at night. Thirteen of the most gifted members preached and
prayed in succession, and they adjourned, declaring that they had never
enjoyed so much of the spirit and presence of Christ in any meetings
for worship as they had done that day. It was moved the next morning
that they "should go on seeking the Lord" that day too, but this was
overruled, and Monday, the 11th, was fixed for that purpose. They then
voted themselves the Parliament of the Commonwealth of England, invited
Cromwell and four of his staff to sit as members amongst them, and on
the 9th of July re-appointed the Council of State, amongst whom we
find the names of Colonel Montague, afterwards Earl of Sandwich, the
uncle of the poet Dryden, Sir Gilbert Pickering, Lord Viscount Lisle,
brother of Algernon Sydney, Sir Ashley Cooper, and other names of equal
note; and however they might be ridiculed on account of their religion,
they soon showed that they were conscientious and independent men. The
strongest proof of this was that they did not shrink from opposing the
power and interests of Cromwell, who had selected them. Scarcely were
they met, when they were appealed to to decide upon the case of John
Lilburne, who, on the dissolution of the Long Parliament, petitioned
Cromwell to allow him to return from his banishment. Cromwell gave no
reply, but independent John took the liberty of appearing in London.
He was at once seized and committed to Newgate. Lilburne, supported by
his friends, petitioned the House to hear and decide the case, though
it was the proper business of a jury. They might now have gratified
their patron, whom Lilburne had continually assailed as a "robber," a
"usurper," and a "murderer;" but they declined to interfere, and left
him to the ordinary criminal court. There Lilburne so ably defended
himself that he was acquitted; but he was again seized on the plea of
libellous and seditious language used on his trial, and the House could
then no longer refuse, at the instigation of the Council, to imprison
him. Being removed from the Tower to Elizabeth Castle, in Jersey, and
thence to Dover Castle, he there became a convert to the principles of
George Fox, a remarkable end for so fiery and democratic a character.
The Parliament lost no time in proceeding to assert that divine
commission, which Cromwell, in his opening speech, had attributed to
their call through him. They declared that they were appointed by the
Lord, and would have greatly alarmed Cromwell had he not taken care to
include amongst them a sufficient number of his staunch adherents. But
they excited the same alarm in a variety of other classes. They set to
work resolutely in cutting down the expenditure of the Government; they
abolished all unnecessary offices; they revised the regulations of the
Excise; reformed the constitution of the Treasury; reduced exorbitant
salaries, and examined thoroughly the public accounts; they adopted
measures for the sale of the confiscated lands, and enacted rules for
the better registration of births, deaths, and marriages. They went
further; they made marriage by a civil magistrate valid, and, indeed,
necessary for the enjoyment of the civil effects of marriage. Marriage
by a clergyman was left optional still.

They next attacked the unequal and oppressive modes of raising the
one hundred and twenty thousand pounds a month for the maintenance of
the army; the assessments in some cases amounting to two, in others,
to ten shillings in the pound. From taxation they proceeded to law,
and prepared a Bill to abolish the Court of Chancery, in which the
abuses and delays had been a constant source of complaint in petitions
to Parliament for years. But they were not content with destroying
the Court of Chancery, they set about a general reform of the laws.
They contended that every Englishman should understand the laws of
his country, and that by a proper digest they might be reduced to the
compass of a pocket volume. They, in fact, anticipated Napoleon in
his Code, and appointed a committee to make the necessary revision,
and to weed the real and useful statutes out of the chaotic mass of
contradictory, obsolete, and unjust laws which overlaid them; the
dicta of judges in many cases superseded and prevented the original
enactments, so that men's lives and properties were at the mercy, not
of the decrees of Parliament, but the opinions of individuals. It
may be imagined what a consternation this daring innovation excited
throughout Westminster Hall, and all the dusky, cobwebby cells of the
lawyers. A terrible cry was raised that a set of ignorant men were
about to destroy the whole noble system of British jurisprudence, and
to introduce instead the law of Moses!

But the projects of these radical Reformers were cut short by the
universal outcry from lawyers, churchmen, officials, and a host of
interested classes. They were represented as a set of mad fanatics, who
in Parliament were endeavouring to carry out the wild doctrines which
the Anabaptists and Fifth-Monarchy men were preaching out of doors.
Borne down by public opinion, Cromwell was compelled to dissolve them,
in fact to resume the supreme power which he had committed to them.
Accordingly, on the 12th of December, Cromwell's friends mustered in
full strength, and Colonel Sydenham moved that, as the proceedings
of Parliament were regarded as calculated to overturn almost every
interest in the country, they could not proceed, and that they should
restore their authority to the hands whence they had received it.
The motion was vehemently opposed, but the Independents had adopted
their plan. The mover declared that he would no longer sit in an
assembly which must be rendered abortive by general opposition. He
therefore rose: the Speaker, who was one of the party, rose too, and
the Independents, forming a procession, proceeded to Whitehall, and
resigned their commission into the hands of Cromwell. The staunch
dissentients remained and engaged in prayer, in which act two officers,
Goffe and White, sent to close the House, found them. White asked
them what they did there. They replied, "We are seeking the Lord."
"Then," said he, rudely, "you may go somewhere else, for to my certain
knowledge, the Lord has not been here these many years."

[Illustration: TOKEN OF THE COMMONWEALTH (COPPER).]

[Illustration: BROAD OF THE COMMONWEALTH (GOLD).]

[Illustration: CROWN OF THE COMMONWEALTH (SILVER).]

Cromwell affected to receive with reluctance the onerous charge of the
supreme power and responsibility; but the officers urged its necessity,
and the document being soon signed by eighty members, he acceded to it.
The council of officers and ministers decided that it was necessary to
have "a commonwealth in a single person;" and a new constitution was
drawn up; and on the 16th of December Cromwell, dressed in a suit and
cloak of black velvet, with long boots and a broad gold band round his
hat, proceeded in his carriage from Whitehall to the Court of Chancery.
The way was lined by files of soldiers, consisting of five regiments
of foot and three of horse. A long procession followed, including the
Lord Mayor, aldermen, and City officers, the two Commissioners of the
Great Seal, the judges, the councillors of State and of the army. On
reaching the Court of Chancery, Cromwell took his place before a chair
of State, which had been placed on a rich carpet, the Commissioners
of the Great Seal standing on his right and left, the judges ranging
themselves behind, and the civil and military officers disposing of
themselves on each hand. Lambert then stepped forward and addressed
the Lord-General. He spoke of the dissolution of Parliament, and of
the necessity of a strong Government, not liable to be paralysed by
contending opinions; and he prayed the Lord-General, in the name of the
army and of the official authorities of the three kingdoms, to accept
the office of Lord-Protector of the Commonwealth, and to govern it for
the public good by a constitution already drawn up. Cromwell assented,
and thereupon Jessop, a clerk of the council, read what was called "The
Instrument of Government," consisting of forty-two articles. The chief
of these were, that the legislative power should be invested in the
Lord-Protector and the Parliament; but chiefly in the Parliament, for
every Act passed by them was to become law at the end of twenty days,
though the Protector should refuse it his consent. Parliament should
not be adjourned, prorogued, or dissolved without its own consent, for
five months; and there was to be a new Parliament called within three
years of the dissolution of the last. The members of the Parliament
were adopted from a plan by Vane, brought forward during the Long
Parliament--namely, three hundred and forty members for England and
Wales, thirty for Scotland, and thirty for Ireland. The members were to
be chosen chiefly from the counties, and no papist, Malignant, or any
one who had borne arms against the Parliament, was admissible. In the
Protector resided the power of making war or peace with the consent of
the Council; he held the disposal of the militia, and of the regular
forces and the navy, the appointment of all public offices with the
approbation of Parliament, or during the recess of Parliament with that
of the Council, subject to the after-approval of Parliament; but he
could make no law, nor impose taxes without consent of Parliament. The
civil list was fixed at two hundred thousand pounds, and a revenue for
the army capable of maintaining thirty thousand men, with such a navy
as the Lord-Protector should deem necessary. The elective franchise
extended to persons possessed of property worth two hundred pounds, and
sixty members of Parliament should constitute a quorum. All persons
professing faith in Jesus Christ were to enjoy the exercise of their
religion except papists, prelatists, or such as taught doctrines
subversive of morality. Cromwell was named Lord-Protector for life,
and his successor was to be elected by the Council, and no member of
the family of the late king, or any of his line, should be capable of
election. A Council was specially named by the Instrument, to consist
of Philip, Lord Viscount Lisle, brother of Algernon Sydney; Fleetwood;
Lambert; Sir Gilbert Pickering; Sir Charles Wolseley; Sir Anthony
Ashley Cooper; Edward Montague; John Desborough, brother-in-law of
Cromwell; Walter Strickland; Henry Lawrence; William Sydenham; Philip
Jones; Richard Mayor, father-in-law of Richard Cromwell; Francis Rouse;
Philip Skipton, or any seven of them, with power in the Protector,
and a majority of the Council, to add to their number. Thurloe, the
historian, was secretary of the Council, and Milton Latin secretary.

This Instrument being ready, Cromwell swore solemnly to observe it, and
to cause it to be observed; and then Lambert, kneeling, offered the
Protector a civic sword in the scabbard, which he took, laying aside
his own, as indicating that he thenceforward would govern by the new
constitution, and not by military authority. He then seated himself,
covered, in the chair of State, all besides standing uncovered; he
then received from the Commissioners the Great Seal, and from the Lord
Mayor the sword and cap of maintenance, which he immediately returned
to them. On this the court rose, and the Lord-Protector returned in
state to Whitehall, the Lord Mayor bearing the sword before him, amid
the shouting of the soldiers and the firing of cannon. The next day,
the 17th of December, the Lord-Protector was proclaimed by sound of
trumpet in Westminster and in the City, and thus had the successful
general, the quondam farmer of Huntingdon, arrived at the seat of
supreme power, at the seat of a long line of famous kings, though not
with the name of king, to which many suspected him of aspiring. Yet
even without the royal dignity, he soon found the position anything but
an enviable one, for he was surrounded by hosts of men still vowed to
his destruction and the restoration of the monarchy; and amongst those
who had fought side by side with him towards this august eminence, were
many who regarded his assumption of it as a crime, to be expiated only
by his death. Though there is no reason to believe that the bulk of the
nation was otherwise than satisfied with the change, his supporters
were lukewarm while his enemies were ardent. There was no disguising
the fact that until Parliament met his government was one of naked
absolutism. The Protector forthwith established a body of "Triers" who
proceeded to examine the religious beliefs of candidates for vacant
benefices, and promptly presented them if the result of the examination
was satisfactory. Before we proceed, however, to notice his struggles
with his secret or avowed enemies, and with his new Parliament, we must
notice what had been doing meanwhile in the war with Holland, which had
still been raging.

CHAPTER V.

THE COMMONWEALTH (_concluded_).

Naval Victory over the Dutch--Death of Van Tromp--_Quasi_-Royal
State of the Lord-Protector--Disaffection against Cromwell--His
Vigorous Rule--Charles II. offers a Reward for his
Assassination--Rebellions in Scotland--Cromwell's Dealings with the
Portuguese Ambassador--Reform of the Court of Chancery--Commission
for Purgation of the Church--The Reformed Parliament--Exclusion of
the Ultras--Dissolution of Parliament--Danger from Plots--Accident
to the Protector--Death of Cromwell's Mother--Royalist
Outbreaks--Cromwell's Major-Generals--Foreign Policy--War with
Spain--Massacre of the Piedmontese--Capture of Jamaica--The
Jews Appeal for Toleration--Cromwell's Third Parliament--Plots
against his Life--The Petition and Advice--Cromwell Refuses the
Royal Title--Blake's Brilliant Victory at Santa Cruz--Death of
Blake--Successes against Spain--Failure of the Reconstructed
Parliament--Punishment of Conspirators--Victory in the
Netherlands--Absolutism of Cromwell--His Anxieties, Illness, and
Death--Proclamation of Richard Cromwell--He calls a Parliament--It
is Dissolved--Reappearance of the Rump--Richard Retires--Royalist
Risings--Quarrels of the Army and the Rump--General Monk--He
Marches upon London--Demands a Free Parliament--Royalist
Reaction--Declaration of Breda--Joyful Reception of Charles.

In May, 1653, the fleets of England and Holland, each amounting to
one hundred sail, put to sea. That of England was under the command
of Monk, Dean, Penn, and Lawson; that of Holland under Van Tromp, De
Ruyter, De Witt, and Evertsens. At first they passed each other, and
whilst Monk ravaged the coast of Holland, Van Tromp was cannonading
Dover. At length, on the 2nd of June, they met off the North Foreland,
and a desperate conflict took place, in which Dean was killed at the
side of Monk. Monk immediately threw his cloak over the body, to avoid
discouraging the men, and fought on through the day. In the night Blake
arrived with eighteen additional sail, and at dawn the battle was
renewed. The result was that the Dutch were beaten, lost one-and-twenty
sail, and had thirteen hundred men taken prisoners, besides great
numbers killed and wounded. The English pursued the flying vessels
to the coast of Holland, and committed many ravages amongst their
merchantmen. But the undaunted Van Tromp, on the 29th of July, appeared
again at sea, with above a hundred sail. Monk stood out to sea for
more battle-room, and one of the Dutch captains, seeing this, said to
Van Tromp that they were running; but Van Tromp, who knew the English
better, replied curtly, "Sir, look to your own charge, for were there
but twenty sail, they would never refuse to fight us." Monk, on his
part, ordered his captains to attempt making no prizes, but to sink
and destroy all the ships they could. The battle, therefore, raged
furiously, from five in the morning till ten; but at length the gallant
Van Tromp fell dead by a musket-shot, and the courage of the Dutch gave
way. In this fight the Dutch lost thirty ships, about one thousand
prisoners, besides great numbers of slain, the English losing only two
vessels.

These splendid victories enabled Cromwell to conclude advantageous
treaties with Holland, France, Denmark, Portugal, and Sweden. Most
of these Powers sent over ambassadors to congratulate him on his
elevation, and these were received at Whitehall with much state. The
royal apartments were furnished anew in very magnificent style, and in
the banqueting-room was placed a chair of State raised on a platform
with three steps, and the Lord-Protector gave audience seated in it.
The ambassadors were instructed to make three obeisances, one at the
entrance, one in the middle of the room, and the third in front of the
chair, which the Protector acknowledged with a grave inclination of the
head. The same ceremony was repeated on retiring. Cromwell received
the ambassadors of Holland to dinner, sitting on one side of the table
alone, and the ambassadors with a few of the lords of the Council on
the other. The Lady-Protectress at the same time entertained their
ladies. In his appearances abroad the Protector assumed very much the
state of a king with State coaches, Life Guards, pages, and lacqueys
richly clothed. He took up his abode instantly in the royal palaces,
quitting the Cockpit altogether, Whitehall being his town house, and
Hampton Court his country one, where he generally went on Saturday
afternoon, and spent the Sunday.

It was not, however, without many heartburnings and some plots for his
destruction that his wonderful elevation was witnessed by many of his
old comrades, as well as his natural enemies.

The Anabaptists and Fifth-Monarchy men, who carried their notions of
political liberty as far beyond Cromwell as the Chartists of more
modern times carried theirs beyond the Whigs, were exceedingly
violent, and denounced him as an apostate and deceiver. Feak and
Powell, two Anabaptist preachers in Blackfriars, thundered from their
pulpits against him as the "beast in the Apocalypse," the "old dragon,"
and the "man of sin." "Go, tell your Protector," they cried, "that
he has deceived the Lord's people, and is a perjured villain." They
declared that he was worse than the last tyrant usurper, the crookback
Richard, and would not reign long.

Having borne the violent abuse of these men for some time, he at
length sent them to the Tower. But amongst his own generals and former
colleagues were men not less exasperated. Harrison and Ludlow were
Fifth-Monarchy men, who believed that none but Christ ought to reign,
and they joined the most disaffected. Harrison being asked if he would
own the new protectoral government, answered fiercely, "No!" and
Cromwell was obliged to send him to his own house in the country, and
afterwards to commit him also to the Tower. Vane and others were not
less angered, though less openly violent.

Cromwell expressed much sorrow at these symptoms of resentment
amongst his old friends, and declared that he would much rather, so
far as his own inclinations were concerned, have taken a shepherd's
staff than that of the Protector. In Scotland and Ireland there was
much dissatisfaction at the new revolution, as it was called. Even
Fleetwood, his son-in-law, scarcely knew how to receive it, and Ludlow
and Jones expressed no unequivocal discontent. Colonel Alured had been
sent to Ireland to conduct certain forces to Monk in the Scottish
Highlands, but he was an Anabaptist, and became so insubordinate that
Cromwell dismissed him both from his commission and from the army.
Ludlow refused to continue on the Irish Civil Commission. Cromwell,
however, sent over his son Henry on a visit to Fleetwood, so that
he might learn the true state of the army, and the most active or
formidable of the malcontent officers were removed to England, or by
degrees dismissed from the service.

In Scotland similar disaffection was apparent, but there active service
against the Royalists, who were also astir with fresh vigour on this
occasion, tended to divert their attention from their discontents.
Charles II., from Paris, about Easter, issued a proclamation, supposed
to be drawn up by Clarendon, offering five hundred pounds a year
and a colonelcy in the army to any one who would take off by sword,
pistol, or poison, "a certain base, mechanic fellow, by name Oliver
Cromwell," who had usurped his throne. His partisans in Scotland
seized the opportunity to renew the war. The Earls of Glencairn and
Balcarres, Angus, Montrose, Seaforth, Atholl, Kenmure, and Lorne, the
son of Argyll, were up in arms. Charles sent over General Middleton
to take the chief command, and Cromwell ordered Monk again from the
victorious fleet to hasten to the Highlands to oppose him, Colonel
Robert Lilburne having in the meantime made a successful assault upon
them. Monk speedily defeated Middleton and his associates, and the
Scots lords lost no time in making their submission. Cromwell had
subdued the rebellion completely by August, but still earlier he had
abolished all separate rule in Scotland. In April he published three
ordinances, by which he incorporated England with Scotland, abolished
the Monarchy and Parliament in that country, and absolved the people
from their allegiance to Charles Stuart, erecting courts baron instead
of those suppressed. The people who contended through so many bloody
wars against English monarchs who had attempted the same thing, now
quietly submitted to this plebeian but energetic conqueror, and the
Kirk only defied his authority by meeting in assembly in Edinburgh on
the 20th of July. But there presently appeared amongst them Colonel
Cotterel, who bade them depart, and marched them a mile out of the city
between two files of soldiers, to the astonishment and terror of the
inhabitants, where he informed them that if any of them were found in
the capital after eight o'clock the next morning, or attempted to sit
or meet more than three together, he would imprison them as disturbers
of the public peace. Our old acquaintance, Baillie, beheld this amazing
spectacle with consternation. "Thus," he exclaimed, "our General
Assembly, the glory and strength of our Church upon earth, is by your
soldiery crushed and trodden under foot. For this our hearts are sad
and our eyes run down with water." Yet it does not appear that real
religion suffered at all by Cromwell's innovations, either in Scotland
or in England, for Kirkton says of the Kirk, "I verily believe there
were more souls converted unto Christ in that short period of time than
in any season since the Reformation. Ministers were painsful, people
were diligent. At their solemn communions many congregations met in
great multitudes, some dozens of ministers used to preach, and the
people continued, as it were, in a sort of trance, so serious were they
in spiritual exercises, for three days at least." Baxter, in England,
though a decided enemy of Cromwell, confessed that, by his weeding out
scandalous ministers, and putting in "able, serious preachers, who
lived a godly life," though of various opinions, "many thousands of
souls blessed God" for what was done.

The proclamation of Charles, rendered abortive in the Highlands, was
not without its effects in England. One Major Henshaw came over from
Paris, and proposed to assassinate Cromwell as he went to Hampton
Court. His plan was to get thirty stout men for the purpose. A young
enthusiastic gentleman named Gerard undertook to procure twenty-five
of them, and Colonel Finch and Henshaw were to bring the other five.
Vowel, a schoolmaster of Islington, was very zealous in the plot,
and aided in procuring arms; Billingsley, a butcher of Smithfield,
engaging to seize the troopers' horses grazing in Islington fields.
The soldiers were then to be fallen upon at the Mews, Charles II.
was to be proclaimed, Rupert was to appear with a large force of
Royalists, English, Irish, and Scots, and there was to be a general
rising. Saturday, the 20th of May, was the day fixed for Cromwell's
assassination; but before this wild scheme could be commenced, forty
of the conspirators were seized, some of them in their beds. Vowel was
hanged, and Gerard was beheaded on the 10th of July--the manner of the
latter's punishment being thus changed at his own request, as being a
gentleman and a soldier.

[Illustration: THE GREAT HALL, HAMPTON COURT PALACE.]

The same day, and on the same scaffold as Gerard, was executed Don
Pantaleone Sa, the brother of the Portuguese Ambassador. Sa had a
quarrel with this same Gerard, who was called "Generous Gerard," an
enthusiastic Royalist. They came to fighting at the Royal Exchange,
where Gerard, drawing his rapier, forced the Don to fly, whereupon the
next day he returned to the Exchange in search of Gerard, with a body
of armed followers, and mistaking a man of the name of Greenway for
Gerard, they killed him, wounded Colonel Mayo, and were not subdued
without much riot. Sa was seized, tried, and condemned for this
deliberate murder. He pleaded that he belonged to the embassy, and
was therefore exempt from the tribunals of this country, but neither
this nor the zealous exertions of his brother, the ambassador, could
save him; he was condemned to die. Cromwell, though on the verge of
concluding a treaty with Portugal, would not concede a pardon to
the bloodthirsty Portuguese, who had been found guilty by a jury
of half Englishmen and half foreigners. He went to Tower Hill in a
coach and six, attended by numbers of the attachés of the embassy in
mourning, and his brother signed the treaty and left the country.
Such an exhibition of firmness and impartiality, refusing to make any
distinction in a murderer, whether noble or commoner, evinced great
moral courage in Cromwell; but another execution, which took place a
short time before--namely, on the 23rd of June--was not so creditable
to him. This was the hanging of an old Catholic priest, named
Southworth, who had been convicted thirty-seven years before, under the
bloody laws of James against Popish priests, and had been banished.
Being now discovered in the country, he was tried for that offence
and put to death. On the scaffold he justly upbraided the Government
with having taken arms for liberty, yet shedding the blood of those
who differed from them on religious grounds. The stern persecution of
Popery was, in fact, a blot on Cromwell's character; he had not in that
respect outgrown his age.

Whilst these and other plots were exacting from the Protector a severe
compensation for his high position, he was yet steadily prosecuting
measures for the better administration of the national government.
Being empowered by the Instrument of government, with his Council, not
only to raise sufficient money for the necessary demands of government,
but also "to make laws and ordinances for the peace and welfare of
these nations," he actually made no less than sixty ordinances,
many of them of singular wisdom and excellence. He and his Council,
in fact, showed that they were in earnest to make the execution of
justice cheap and prompt, and to revive a pure and zealous ministry
of the gospel. In one of these ordinances they effected the Herculean
labour which Barebone's Parliament had aimed at--the reformation of
the Court of Chancery, the ordinance for this purpose consisting of no
less than sixty-seven articles. Well might Cromwell, on the opening of
Parliament, refer with pride to this great event, an event which would
have taken our modern law-makers twenty years to accomplish, which,
in fact, they have not accomplished yet. "The Chancery," he said in
his speech, "is reformed." What a speech in four words, sufficient to
have made the reign of any king famous! "The Chancery is reformed--I
hope to the satisfaction of all good men." This had partly been
done by distributing the causes through the other "courts of law at
Westminster, where Englishmen love to have their rights tried." In
order, too, to effect a most just and speedy discharge of the laws,
he put better judges on the Bench, amongst them the pious Sir Matthew
Hale, and made Thurloe, the friend of Milton, Secretary of State.

Two others of his ordinances were intended to purify the Church of
unfit ministers, and to introduce fit and pious ones. This established
two commissions, one for the examination of all clergymen offering
themselves for the incumbency of any church living, and the other
for inquiring after and expelling any "scandalous, ignorant, or
insufficient ministers who already occupied such." These commissioners
were to be permanent, so that the Church in all parts of the country
should be purged of improper preachers, and supplied with able and
good ones. The supreme commission for the trial of public preachers
consisted of thirty-eight members--twenty-nine clergymen, nine
laymen--and these were both Presbyterians and Independents, some even
Anabaptists, for the Protector was less interested in what sect they
belonged to, than in the fact that they were pious and able men. The
commission for purging the Church consisted of from fifteen to thirty
Puritan gentlemen and Puritan clergymen for each county; and when
they dismissed a minister for unfitness, his family had some income
allowed them. Many of the members of these last boards were chosen
indiscriminately from the friends or enemies of the Protectorate,
provided they were known men of real piety and judgment. Amongst these
were Lord Fairfax, Thomas Scott, a zealous Republican, Admiral Blake,
Sir Arthur Haselrig, Richard Mayor, the father-in-law of Richard
Cromwell, for whom Cromwell entertained a high regard and respect, and
had him in both Parliament, Council, and various commissions. Baxter
was one of them, and, as we have said, spoke well of the operation of
the system.

But the 3rd of September arrived, Oliver's fortunate day, on which
he had appointed the meeting of Parliament. As the day fell on a
Sunday, the members met in the afternoon for worship in Westminster
Abbey, where they waited on the Protector in the Painted Chamber,
who addressed them in a speech, and they then went to the House and
adjourned to the next morning. Cromwell went that day to the House
in great State, in his carriage, with his Life Guards, a captain of
the guard walking on each side, and the Commissioners of the Great
Seal and other State officers following in coaches. After a sermon
in the Abbey Church they proceeded to the Painted Chamber, where the
Protector made a speech of three hours in the delivery. A chair of
State, marvellously resembling a throne, raised on steps, and with a
canopy, was placed for the Protector, who sat with his hat on, whilst
the members sat bareheaded. On rising to speak he took off his hat,
and made what Whitelock styles "a large and subtle speech." It was
largely illustrated by Scripture quotations, it is true, for that was
inseparable from the religious temperament of Cromwell; but it gave
a clear review of the causes which had led to the overthrow of the
monarchy, the rise of the Commonwealth, and particularly of its then
form, as well as of the measures which he had adopted in Council, in
the interim between his appointment and the meeting of Parliament. He
told them that he regarded their greatest functions to be at that time
"healing and settling;" a profound truth--for the nation, and in it
every class of men, had been so torn and rent in every fibre, that to
soothe and heal was the highest art and policy. Every man's hand, and
every man's head, he justly observed, had been against his brother,
and no sooner had they put down despotism, than liberty itself began
to grow wild, and threaten them with equal danger. The Levellers, the
Fifth-Monarchy men, the Communists of St. George's Hill, had compelled
them to put the drag on the chariot wheels of freedom, or it would
soon have taken fire. In all such revolutions, the principles of human
right are pushed on by sanguine men, beyond all chance of support from
a settled public opinion; and Oliver truly told them that had they
gained their object for a moment, it could not have lasted long, but
would have in the meantime served the turn of selfish men, who, having
obtained public property, would have "cried up property and interest
fast enough."

He referred with satisfaction to the means taken to insure a pure
ministry, and argued for the necessity of State interference in
religion, but such interference should only be for promoting a good and
virtuous ministry, and by no means infringe on "liberty of conscience
and liberty of the subject, two as glorious things as any that God
hath given us." His fears of religious license were chiefly excited by
Fifth-Monarchists; yet he did not deny that such a monarchy must come
in process of time. "It is a notion," he said, "that I hope we all
honour, and wait and hope for the fulfilment of, that Jesus Christ
_will_ have a time to set up a reign in our hearts, by subduing those
lusts, and corruptions, and evils that are there, which now reign more
in the world that I hope in due time they shall do. And when more
fulness of the Spirit is poured forth to subdue iniquity, and bring in
everlasting righteousness, then will the approach of that glory be.
The cardinal divisions and contentions, among Christians so common,
are not the symptoms of that kingdom. But for men on this principle
to betitle themselves, that they are the only men to rule kingdoms,
govern nations, and give laws to people, and determine of property and
liberty, and everything else, upon such a pretension as this is, truly
they had need to give clear manifestations of God's presence with them,
before wise men will receive or submit to their conclusions." Still he
recommended tenderness towards them, and that if their extravagances
necessitated punishment, this should "evidence love, and not hatred."

He next referred to the treaties with foreign nations, amongst which,
he said, that with Portugal had obtained "a thing which never before
was since the Inquisition was set up there--that our people who trade
thither have liberty of conscience, liberty to worship God in chapels
of their own."

He finally inculcated on them the necessity for maintaining as much
peace as possible, not only that they might restore the internal
condition of the nation, and reduce the excessive taxation occasioned
by the war on land and sea, but also to prevent foreign nations from
depriving us of our manufacturing status, as they had been busily doing
during our internal dissensions.

To one of his assertions we are bound to demur. "One thing more
this Government hath done--it had been instrumental to call a free
Parliament, which, blessed be God, we see here this day. I say a free
Parliament, and that it may continue so, I hope is in the heart and
spirit of every good man in England, save such discontented persons
as I have formerly mentioned. It is that which, as I have desired
above my life, so I shall desire to keep it above my life." The truth
was that it was as free a Parliament as the circumstances of the
times would admit; indeed, as was soon seen, it was much too free.
A free Parliament would have brought back royalty in the State, or
Presbyterian absolutism in religion. Republicanism and Independency,
though in the ascendant through the genius of Cromwell and the
power of the army, was in a minority. Republicanism even was divided
against itself, divided into moderate Republicanism and Levelling,
Fifth-Monarchy and Communism in alliance. From this so-called free
Parliament, Episcopalians and Catholics were excluded; this so-called
free Parliament had been carefully watched during the elections, the
lists of the returned had been sent up to the Council, and such as
were deemed too dangerous were disallowed, amongst others Lord Grey of
Groby. But even then it was found too free, and the very first thing
that it set about was to call in question the Government which had
authorised it.

There was a stiff contest for the Speakership, but Lenthall was chosen
instead of Bradshaw, who was also nominated, because Lenthall had
been Speaker of the Long Parliament, and its old members had still
hope of restoring it. Amongst the members were old Sir Francis Rouse,
Lord Herbert, the son of the Earl of Worcester, Fleetwood, Lambert,
the Claypoles, one of whom had married a daughter of the Protector's,
Cromwell's two sons, his friends the Dunches, Sir Ashley Cooper, and
Lord Fairfax. Amongst the Republicans there were Bradshaw, Haselrig,
Scott, Wallop, and Wildman, old Sir Henry Vane, but not the younger;
and amongst the Irish members were Lord Broghill, who had fought so
stoutly against Charles, and Commissary-General Reynolds. No sooner
did they begin business than they opened a debate on the question of
sanctioning the present form of government, a question from which they
were precluded by the very Instrument which had made them a Parliament.
The debate was carried on for no less than eight days, during which
Bradshaw, Scott, Haselrig, and other Republicans contended that the
members of the Long Parliament had been illegally deprived of their
right, and that the Government in one person and a Parliament was but
another form of tyranny. One speaker declared that he had fought to
put down one tyrant, and was ready to fight to put down another. What
right but the sword, it was asked, had one man to put down a legal
Parliament, to command his commanders? They moved to go into committee
on the subject, and carried it.

Cromwell was not the man to suffer this. He sent to the Lord Mayor,
and ordered him to take measures to preserve the peace of the City,
marched three regiments into it, and then summoned Lenthall, and bade
him meet him in the Painted Chamber, on Tuesday, the 12th of September,
with the Commons. Harrison, who was zealously getting up petitions for
the support of the inquiry into the constitution, was clapped into the
Tower. When Cromwell met the Commons, he expressed his surprise that
a set of men from whom so much healing management had been expected,
should immediately attempt to overturn the Government which called them
together. The Instrument consisted of incidentals and fundamentals. The
incidentals they were at liberty to discuss, but the fundamentals--of
which the article that the power resided in one person and a Parliament
was one--were out of their range. He very zealously asserted that he
had been called to the head of the nation by God and the people, and
that none but God and the people should take his office from him.
His own wish had been to lead the life of a country gentleman, but
necessity had forced him thence, and three several times he had found
himself placed by the course of events at the head of the army, and
by them at the head of the Government. As to the dismissal of the
Long Parliament, he had been forced to that by its endeavouring to
perpetuate itself, and by its tyranny and corruption. He said "that
poor men, under its arbitrary power, were driven like flocks of sheep,
by forty on a morning, to the confiscation of goods and estates,
without any man being able to give a reason why two of them had
deserved to forfeit a shilling." He had twice resigned the arbitrary
power left in his hands, and having established a Government capable of
saving the nation, he would sooner lie rotting in his grave and buried
with infamy than suffer it to be broken up. They had now peace at home
and abroad, and it would be a miserable answer to give to the people,
"Oh, we quarrelled for the liberty of England; we contested and went to
confusion for that."

To prevent any such evil consequences, he informed them that he had
caused a stop to be put to their entrance into the Parliament House; he
did not turn them out this time, he shut them out--and that none would
be readmitted that did not first sign an Engagement to be true and
faithful to the Protector and Commonwealth of England, Scotland, and
Ireland, not to propose or consent to alter the Government, as settled
in a single person and Parliament.

On hearing this, the honourable members looked at one another in
amazement, but one hundred and forty thought well to sign the
Engagement, which lay in the lobby of the House that day, and within a
month three out of the four hundred had signed. Of course all the ultra
Republicans refused to sign, and were excluded--Bradshaw, Haselrig,
Scott, Wildman, and the rest.

[Illustration: JOHN MILTON. (_After the Miniature by Samuel Cooper._)]

This summary dealing did not cure the Parliament of considering the
question for touching which they had thus been purged of a hundred
members. On the 19th of September, only a week after the check they
had received, they went into committee to discuss the "Instrument of
Government." They took care not to touch the grand point which they
had now pledged themselves not to meddle with--the government by a
Protector and Parliament; but they affected to consider all the other
articles as merely provisional, decreed by the Protector and the
Council, but to be confirmed or rejected by Parliament. They discussed
these one by one, and on the 16th of October proceeded to the question,
whether the office of Protector should be elective or hereditary.
Lambert advocated the office being hereditary, and pointed out the
many disadvantages of the elective form. He strongly recommended the
office being confined to the Cromwell family, and this, of course,
was attributed to the instigation of Cromwell himself. They decided
for the elective form. On the 11th of December they voted that the
Protector should have a veto on Bills touching liberty of conscience,
but not such as suppressed heresies, as if what they called suppressing
heresies were not direct attacks on liberty of conscience. Thus they
crept round the very roots of the Protectoral authority, nibbling at
the powers he had forbidden them to discuss, and they proceeded to give
proof of their intention to launch into all the old persecutions for
religion, if they possibly could, by summoning before them John Biddle,
who may be regarded as the father of the Unitarians. He had been
thrice imprisoned by the Long Parliament, for holding that he could not
find in Scripture that Christ or the Holy Ghost was styled God. The
Parliament committed him to the Gatehouse, and ordered a Bill to be
prepared for his punishment.

It was high time that they were stopped in their incorrigible spirit of
persecution; and by now proceeding to frame a Bill to include all their
votes on the articles of the Instrument they were suddenly arrested
in their progress. The Instrument provided that Parliament should not
be adjourned under five months. On the 22nd of January, 1655, the
Protector chose to consider that the months were not calendar but lunar
months, which then expired. The Parliament, counting the other way,
deemed themselves safe till the 3rd of February, but on the 22nd of
January Oliver summoned them to the Painted Chamber, and observed to
them, that though he had met them at first with the hope that their
hearts were in the great work to which they had been called, he was
quite disappointed in them. He complained that they had sent no message
to him, taken no more notice of his presence in the Republic than if
he had not existed, and that with all patience he had forborne teasing
them with messages, hoping that they would at length proceed to some
real business. "But," added he, "as I may not take notice of what you
have been doing, so I think I have a very great liberty to tell you
that I do not know what you have been doing; that I do not know whether
you have been dead or alive. I have not once heard from you all this
time. I have not, and that you all know."

He then reminded them that various discontented parties--the Royalists,
the Levellers, and others--had been encouraged by their evident
disposition to call in question the Government, to raise plots, and
that if they were permitted to sit making quibbles about the Government
itself, the nation would soon be plunged again into bloodshed and
confusion. He, therefore, did then and there dissolve them as a
Parliament.

The plots to which the Protector alluded had been going on for some
time, and even yet were in full activity. We shall trace their main
features, but we may first notice an incident which showed that
Cromwell was prepared for them, resolved to sell his life manfully if
attacked. On the 24th of September, 1654, immediately after compelling
the Parliament to subscribe the Engagement, the Protector was out in
Hyde Park, taking dinner under the shade of the trees, with Thurloe,
the secretary, a man whom he constantly consulted on the affairs of
the nation. After this little rural dinner, which gives us a very
interesting idea of the simplicity of the great general's habits and
tastes, he tried a team of six fine Friesland coach horses, presented
to him by the Duke of Oldenburg. Thurloe was put into the carriage,
Cromwell mounted the coachman's seat, and a postillion rode one of
the fore horses. The horses soon became unruly, plunged, and threw
the postillion, and then, nearly upsetting the carriage, threw the
Protector from his seat, who fell upon the pole and had his legs
entangled in the harness. On went the mad horses at full gallop, and
one of Cromwell's shoes coming off, which had been held by the harness,
he fell under the carriage, which went on without hurting him, except
by some bruises. In the fall, however, a loaded pistol went off in his
pocket, thus revealing the fact that he went armed.

And indeed he had great need. His mother, who died just now, on the
16th of November, and who was ninety-four years old, used, at the sound
of a musket, says Ludlow, to imagine that her son was shot, and could
not be satisfied unless she saw him once a day at least. Her last words
to him do not give us any idea of hypocrisy in mother or son--"The Lord
cause His face to shine upon you, and enable you to do great things for
the glory of the Most High God, and to be a relief unto His people. My
dear son, I leave my heart with thee. A good night!"

Amongst the plotters were both Royalists and Republicans. The ejected
members of Parliament, in their different quarters, were stirring up
discontent against Cromwell, and even declaring that it were better
to have Charles Stuart back again. Colonel Overton, who had been
questioned at the time of Colonel Alured's dismissal, was once more
called up and questioned. In Scotland, where he lay, the Protector
discovered an agitation to supersede Monk, and make the Republican
Overton Commander-in-chief, and leaving only the garrisons, to
march the rest of the army into England on the demand of pay and
constitutional reform. Overton was committed to the Tower.

Allen--who, with Sexby and another agitator, in 1647 presented a
remarkable petition from the army to the Long Parliament, and had
become adjutant-general--was arrested at his father-in-law's house,
in Devonshire, at the end of January, 1655, on a charge of plotting
disturbances in Ireland, and exciting discontent in Bristol and Devon.
Allen was a zealous Anabaptist, and the excitement amongst them
and other army republicans was great and extensive. Pamphlets were
published, letters and agitators passed from one regiment to another,
and a general rising was planned, with the seizure of Edinburgh Castle,
Hull, Portsmouth, and other strong places. Cromwell was to be surprised
and put to death. Colonel Wildman, one of these fanatics, who had been
ejected from Parliament by refusing to sign the Recognition, was taken
on the 12th of February at Exton, near Marlborough, in Wilts, by a
party of horse, as he was in his furnished lodgings upstairs, leaning
on his elbows, and in the act, with the door open, of dictating to his
clerk, "A Declaration of the free and well-affected people of England,
now in arms against the tyrant Oliver Cromwell." He was secured in
Chepstow Castle, and his correspondents, Harrison, Lord Grey of Groby,
and others, were secured in the Tower. Colonel Sexby for the time
escaped.

About the same time a Royalist plot was also in progress. Charles
Stuart, who had removed from Paris to Cologne--the French Government
not wishing to give offence to Cromwell--had concocted a plot with
Hyde, his Chancellor, to raise the Royalists in various quarters at
once, fancying that as Cromwell had given so much offence to both
people and Parliament, there was great hope of success. Charles
went to Middelburg, on the coast of Holland, to be ready at a call,
and Hyde was extremely confident. In Yorkshire there was a partial
outbreak under Lord Mauleverer and Sir Henry Kingsby, which was
speedily quelled, Kingsby being seized and imprisoned in Hull. This
abortive attempt was under the management of Lord Wilmot, now Earl
of Rochester, who was glad to make his escape. Another branch of the
plot, under the management of Sir Joseph Wagstaff, who came over with
Rochester, fared no better. Wagstaff attempted to surprise Winchester
on the 7th of March, during the assizes. Penruddock, Grove, and Jones,
Royalist officers, were associated with him, and about two hundred
others entered Salisbury about five o'clock on the morning of the 11th,
posted themselves in the market-place, liberated the prisoners from the
gaol, and surprised the sheriff and two judges in their beds. Wagstaff
proposed to hang the judges, but Penruddock and the rest refused to
allow it; he then ordered the high sheriff to proclaim Charles Stuart,
but neither he nor the crier would do it, though menaced with the
gallows. Hearing that Captain Unton Crook was after them with a troop
of horse, and seeing no chance of a rising, they quitted the town
about three o'clock, and marched through Dorsetshire into Devonshire.
At South Molton Captain Crook came up with them, and speedily made
himself master of fifty of the insurgents, including Penruddock,
Grove, and Jones, but Wagstaff escaped. They had expected a body of
conspirators from Hampshire to join them at Salisbury, and these were
actually on their way when they heard of the retreat of Wagstaff's
band, and immediately dispersed. Similarly feeble outbreaks took
place in the counties of Northumberland, Nottingham, Shropshire, and
Montgomery. Penruddock, Grove, and Jones were beheaded at Exeter, and
about fifteen others suffered there and at Salisbury; the rest of the
deluded prisoners were sold to Barbadoes. Charles returned crest-fallen
to Cologne, and Hyde, convinced that his plans had been betrayed,
attributed the treason to Manning, whom, having secured, they had shot
in the following winter, in the territory of the Duke of Neuburg.

To prevent more of these outbreaks, Cromwell planned to divide the
whole country into military districts, over each of which he placed
an officer, who was to act chiefly with the militia, and not with
the Levelling regulars. These officers he created major-generals,
beginning first with Desborough in the south-west, and, before the
year was out, he had despatched, each to his district, the other
major-generals--Fleetwood, Skippon, Whalley, Kelsey, Goffe, Berry,
Butler, Wortley, and Barkstead, who effectually preserved the peace of
the nation. During the spring also, undaunted by these disturbances,
Cromwell progressed with his internal reforms, and with the greatest of
all, the reform of Chancery. This was no easy matter. The lawyers were
as turbulent as the Anabaptists in the army. Two of the Commissioners
of the Great Seal, Whitelock and Widdrington, refused to enforce the
reform, and were obliged to resign. Lisle and Fiennes, the other
Commissioners, dared to carry out the change. Lenthall, the Speaker,
now Master of the Rolls, protested that he would be hanged at the Rolls
gate before he would obey; but he saw fit to alter his mind, and the
Protector, so far from bearing any ill-will to the two conscientious
Commissioners, Whitelock and Widdrington, soon after made them
Commissioners of the Treasury.

We may now look back a little, to observe what Cromwell had been doing
beyond the shores of the kingdom. We have seen that almost all the
nations of Europe sent embassies to congratulate him on his elevation
to the Protectorate. The vigour of his rule speedily made them more
anxious to stand on good terms with him. He soon made peace with Sweden
as a Protestant country, and from natural sympathy with the Protestant
fame of the great Gustavus. He concluded peace also with Holland, but
with France and Spain there were more difficulties.

France had, both under Richelieu and Mazarin, lent continual aid and
refuge to the Royalist cause against the Reformers. The queen, whom the
Republicans had chased from the throne, was a princess of France, and
was living there with numbers of the Royalists about her. Charles, the
heir to the throne of England, was pensioned by France, and maintained
a sort of court in Paris, whence continual disturbances and alarms were
coming. It is true, the French Court had never been very munificent
to the exiled Queen of England and her family. Henrietta was found by
Cardinal Retz without fire, and almost without food, and Charles and
his countrymen were so poor, that Clarendon, in June, 1653, wrote, "I
do not know that any man is yet dead for want of bread, which I really
wonder at. I am sure the king owes all that he has eaten since April,
and I am not acquainted with one servant who hath a pistole in his
pocket. Five or six of us eat together one meal a day for a pistole
a week; but all of us owe, for God knows how many weeks, to the poor
woman that feeds us." He adds that he wanted shoes and shirts, and that
the Marquis of Ormond was in no better condition. The Court of Charles
was as much rent with divisions and jealousies as it was poor. His
brave conduct in England raised great hopes of him, but on his return
to France he relapsed into all sorts of dissipations and intrigues,
which made him contemptible. Amongst a troop of mistresses, Lucy
Walters, or Barlow, as she was called, the mother of the afterwards
celebrated Duke of Monmouth, was the most notorious.

[Illustration: THE ROYALIST PLOTTERS AT SALISBURY INSULTING THE
SHERIFF. (_See p._ 131.)]

As Mazarin saw the growing power of Cromwell, he was glad to get
Charles removed from Paris, and his abode transferred to Cologne; but,
being still the pensioner of France, Charles was equally capable of
annoying England from that place, as the late outbreaks showed. These
circumstances no doubt rendered it very difficult for the conclusion
of a peace between Cromwell and France, for Cromwell insisted on the
withdrawal of the French support from the exiled family, and though
France was fully disposed to abate the evil as far as possible, it
could not in honour entirely abandon them. Mazarin made every possible
concession on other points, and the French ambassador, Bordeaux,
urged the progress of the treaty with all earnestness. But besides
the grand obstacle, there were others raised by Spain. France and
Spain were at war: Spain was supporting the Prince of Condé and the
French insurgents, and the Spanish ambassador was indefatigable in
representing that whilst Spain had been the very first to acknowledge
the English Commonwealth, France had been constantly supporting the
Royalist power, and in 1653 he offered to seize Calais and make it over
to England as the price of the Commonwealth making peace with Spain,
and common cause against France.

[Illustration: THE PAINTED CHAMBER, WESTMINSTER.]

But there were motives which always weighed heavily with
Cromwell--religion and the honour of the English flag. He had an
enduring repugnance to the Catholic faith, and Spain was essentially
Catholic, and at the same time was maintaining an insolent domination
in the waters of the West Indies. The fame of her exclusion thence
of the flags of all other nations from her colonies, and of her many
atrocities committed on English colonies--as at St. Kitts in 1629,
at Tortuga in 1637, and Santa Cruz in 1650--was an irresistible
provocative to the combative spirit of the Protector. He demanded of
the Spanish ambassador that Spain should abolish the Inquisition, and
admit the English flag to the West Indian seas. De Leyda replied that
he was asking from his king his two eyes, and as Cromwell would not
concede either point, he demanded his passports in June, 1654, and took
his leave.

Cromwell lost no time in enforcing his views on Spain--as no doubt he
felt bound conscientiously to do on the great principle of suppressing
Popish cruelties, and spreading the triumph of Protestantism. He
sent Blake with a powerful fleet in October of that year into the
Mediterranean, and another powerful armament under Admirals Penn
and Venables, with secret orders which were not to be opened till
they arrived in certain latitudes. This fleet, whose preparation and
destination kept all Europe in wonder and anxiety, sailed west, and
was, in fact, destined for the West Indies. Blake, with his fleet,
passed the Straits of Gibraltar, and presented to the inhabitants
of the shores of the Mediterranean a spectacle such as they had
not seen since the days of the Crusades--a powerful English fleet.
It consisted of thirty sail, and its commission was to seize the
French vessels wherever it could find them, especially to seek out
and attack the fleet under the Duke of Guise. It was besides this to
demand satisfaction from various offending Powers. The Grand Duke of
Tuscany had, whilst Parliament was struggling with Charles, allowed
Prince Rupert to sell English prizes in his ports. The Pope was, as
the Antichrist, an object to be humbled, or at all events impressed
sensibly with the fact that England could at any moment visit him in
his capital, and that the British power was in hands both able and
ready to do it. There were many injuries to our merchantmen to be
avenged on the pirates of Tunis and Algiers. Cromwell's favourite
maxim was, that a ship of the line was the most effective ambassador.
Blake sailed along the Papal shores, exciting a deep terror, but he
passed on and cast anchor before Leghorn, and demanded compensation for
the offence against English honour and shipping, which was speedily
granted. Not being able to discover the Duke of Guise, he proceeded
to Algiers, and compelled the Dey to sign an engagement not to permit
further violences by his subjects on English vessels. Thence he sailed
to Tunis, and sent in the same demand, but the haughty barbarian of
that place sent him word to give a look at his ports of Porto Farina
and Goletta, with their fleets, and take them if he could. Blake sailed
away as if in despair, but suddenly returning, he entered the harbour
of Porto Farina, silencing the castle and batteries as he advanced,
and set fire to the whole fleet. Both Tunis and Tripoli now found it
the best policy to give the required engagement, and Blake left the
Mediterranean, having given those lawless pirates a specimen of the
power of England, which was not likely to be soon forgotten.

Blake had orders to look out for the next Spanish Plate fleet coming
home, and he lay for some time off Cadiz; but there was now at the
Court of Madrid Colonel Sexby, the Leveller, who had long been engaged
with Allen, Wildman, and the Anabaptists. He had gone over to the
Continent to raise some force either in conjunction with Charles or
with Spain, to invade England and kill Cromwell. Sexby revealed to the
Spaniards not only the object of Blake, but the real design of the
fleet under Venables and Penn. More than thirty sail were mustered by
the Spanish under Don Pablos de Contretras, which kept close watch on
Blake. Blake longed to attack them, but his orders did not sanction it;
and after hearing that the Plate fleet was detained at Carthagena, he
returned to England to refit, his ships being in a sorry plight, and
his men suffering from bad provisions.

During the absence of Blake, great excitement had been occasioned in
England by the news of dreadful atrocities committed on the Protestants
of the mountains of Piedmont. The Protestants called the Vaudois were
a race who, through all ages, had, in the obscurity of their Alpine
valleys, retained the doctrines of the Primitive Church, and had
set at defiance both the persuasions and the persecutions of Rome.
They were said to be descended from the ancient Waldenses, and were
a bold, independent race of mountaineers. It was pretended that the
Duke of Savoy, whose subjects they chiefly were, had granted them the
free exercise of their religion so long as they remained in their
ancient places of abode, the valleys of the sources of the Po, in the
Savoy Alps; but that being found in Lucerna and other places, these
were decided to be beyond their bounds, and they were ordered to be
conformed to the Church of Rome, or sell their lands and retire from
these territories. They refused to be driven from their homes on
account of their religion, and being always an eyesore to the Court
of Rome, the fury of persecution was let loose upon them. Friars were
sent amongst them to convert them, or to denounce their destruction;
they disregarded the friars, and then six regiments of soldiers were
sent to drive them into the mountains. Amongst these were two regiments
of refugee Irish. These fellows, ardent Catholics, smarting under the
Protestant scourge which had driven them from _their_ native land, did
their work _con amore_. From the district of Lucerna they were driven
into the higher Alpine fastnesses and pursued with the most terrible
ferocities of fanatic savagery, with fire and sword and extermination.
These horrors were aggravated by winter and famine, and the news of
this fearful butchery rang through Protestant England with a sensation
which revived all the memory of the Popish horrors in the Marian time.
There was one loud outcry for interference on their behalf. Press and
pulpit resounded with demands of sympathy and redress: the ministers of
all classes waited on Cromwell in a body to solicit his protection of
the Vaudois: the army in Scotland and Ireland sent up addresses. No one
appeared, however, more excited than Cromwell himself. He immediately
gave two thousand pounds, and appointed a day of general humiliation,
and a collection on their behalf, which was observed, and thirty-eight
thousand two hundred and twenty-eight pounds were speedily raised, and
sent by envoys to Geneva, to be conveyed to the sufferers. Nor did
Cromwell satisfy himself with having done this. The day of the arrival
of the news, June 3rd, 1655, he was about to sign a treaty of peace
with France; but he refused to sign it till he had seen whether the
French king and Mazarin would heartily unite with him in extorting
protection from the Duke of Savoy for the sufferers. Mazarin was loth
to stir in such a business, but Cromwell soon let him see that there
would be no peace for France unless he did, and he consented. Three
Latin letters were written by Milton at the order of the Protector to
different States of Europe, calling on them to co-operate for this
great end, and the mighty poet sent forth also his glorious sonnet,
commencing--

"Avenge, O Lord, Thy slaughtered saints, whose bones
Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold!"

which shall remain like a perpetual trumpet-blast through all time. The
astonished Duke of Savoy was soon compelled to give ample guarantee for
the religious liberty and security of his Protestant subjects.

The expedition to the West Indies, in its commencement, did not
meet with that success which the Protector generally experienced.
The fleet, consisting of sixty sail, was bound for Hispaniola, and
carried four thousand troops; and in Barbadoes and other English
settlements the force was augmented by volunteers, incited by promise
of plunder, to ten thousand. But these fresh forces were of the worst
possible description, being prisoners of a loose description shipped
thither; the commanders were divided in opinion, and the attack was so
wretchedly managed, that it failed with great loss. St. Domingo, which
they intended to take, was deserted on their approach, but instead of
entering it at once, they landed their forces forty miles off, and
marched them through woods towards the town. The heat of the weather,
the want of water, and the consequent disorder of the troops, prepared
them for what ensued. They were suddenly attacked in a thick wood, and
repulsed with great slaughter. Nothing could bring these ragamuffin
forces to renew the attempt, and the commanders sailed away, but
afterwards fell on Jamaica and took it. That island was then, however,
considered of so little value, that it did not satisfy the Government
for the loss of Hispaniola, and on their return Venables and Penn
were committed to the Tower. Notwithstanding this, however, Cromwell
determined to make secure the conquest of Jamaica, and extend, if
possible, the West Indian possessions. Vice-admiral Goodson was ordered
to take the command at Jamaica, and with him General Fortescue, Serle,
Governor of Barbadoes, and General Sedgwick, from New England, were
appointed Commissioners for the management of the island.

Cromwell's letters to these officers that autumn inform us that
there were twenty-eight men-of-war on that station, and people from
Barbadoes, from New England, and from England and Scotland, were being
sent to occupy and settle the island. A thousand Irish girls were sent
out. Cromwell pointed out to the Commissioners how advantageously the
island lay for keeping in check the Spanish Main, and the trade with
Peru and Carthagena. His comprehensive glance was alive to all the
advantages of the conquest, and his resolution engaged to make the
most of it. Whatever is the value of Jamaica now, we owe it to him.
He believed that he was not only serving the nation but religion by
humbling Spain. He wrote to the Commissioners, "The Lord Himself hath
a controversy with your enemies, even with that Roman Babylon of which
the Spaniard is the great underpropper. In that respect we fought the
Lord's battles, and in that respect the Scriptures are most plain."
Spain, of course, proclaimed war against England, to her further loss,
and the glory of Cromwell and his invincible Puritan admiral, Blake.
Penn and Venables resigned their commissions, and were set at liberty.
On October 24th, the day after the Spanish ambassador quitted London,
Cromwell signed the treaty of peace with France, by which Condé and the
French malcontents were to be excluded from the British dominions, and
Charles Stuart, his brother the Duke of York, Ormond, Hyde, and fifteen
others of the prince's adherents, were to be excluded from France.

Cromwell opened the year 1656 amid a multitude of plots and
discontents. The enemies of the Republic--Royalists, Anabaptists,
Levellers--were all busy in one quarter or another. Cleveland, the
poet, who had been taken prisoner nine years before by David Leslie, at
Newcastle, and expected to be hanged for his tirades against the Scots,
but had been dismissed by Leslie with the contemptuous words, "Let the
poor knave go and sell his ballads," was now seized by Colonel Haynes
for seditious writings at Norwich; but Cromwell also dismissed him with
like indifference.

At the close of the year the Jews, who had been forbidden England,
hopeful from the more liberal mercantile notions of Cromwell,
petitioned to be allowed to reside in this country, under certain
conditions. Cromwell was favourable to the petition, which was
presented by Manasseh Ben Israel, a leading Portuguese Jew, of
Amsterdam, though his Council was against it on Scriptural grounds;
but Cromwell silently took them under his protection. There was also
a Committee of Trade in the House, under the earnest advocacy of the
Protector, for promoting commerce. Meanwhile, Cromwell vigorously
prosecuted the war against Spain. Blake and Montague were ordered to
the coast of Spain, to destroy the shipping in the harbour of Cadiz,
and to see whether Gibraltar could not be seized, which Cromwell,
in his letters to the admirals, pointed out as admirably adapted
to promote and protect our trade, and keep the Spaniard in check.
Yet even this project was not carried out without trouble from the
Malcontents. Some of the captains of the fleet, tampered with by
Charles's emissaries, declared their disapproval of the enterprise,
contending that we, and not the Spaniards, were in fault. Cromwell
sent down Desborough to them, who weeded them out, and put others
in their places. Blake and Montague then set sail, and reached the
neighbourhood of Cadiz and Gibraltar in April, but found their defences
too strong; they then proceeded to Lisbon, and brought the treaty with
the Portuguese to a termination, and afterwards made an alarming visit
to Malaga, and to Sallee, to curb the Moors. In July they returned to
the Tagus, and in September a part of the fleet, under Captain Stayner,
fell in with and defeated a fleet of eight sail, coming from America.
He destroyed four of the vessels, and captured two, containing treasure
worth from two hundred and fifty thousand pounds to three hundred
thousand pounds.

Before this treasure reached England, Cromwell, who had exhausted his
finances to fit out the fleet and prosecute the war with Spain, was
compelled to call a Parliament, not only to obtain supplies, but to
take measures for the security of the nation against the designs of the
Royalists and their coadjutors, the Levellers. This met on the 17th of
September, 1656. But Cromwell did not allow all the members elected to
sit in this Parliament, any more than in the former ones. He knew well
that his Government and such a Parliament could not exist together.
The members elected, therefore, were not admitted to sit except they
had a certificate of their approval by the Council from the Chancery
clerk. By the withholding of such certificates nearly one-fourth of
the members were excluded. This created a terrible outcry of invasion
of Parliamentary privileges. Haselrig, Scott, Ashley Cooper, and many
other violent Republicans were excluded. The excluded members signed an
indignant protest, and circulated it in all parts of the country, with
the list of their names appended.

The Protector opened this purged Parliament with a very long speech,
which was one of the most remarkable speeches ever addressed to
Parliament by any ruler. It displayed a depth and breadth of policy,
an active, earnest spirit of national business, a comprehension of
and desire for the establishment of such principles and prosperous
measures, a recognition of the rights of the whole world as affected by
the conduct of this one great nation, which have no parallel for true
Christian philosophy since the days of Alfred. We have since then had
great and valiant warriors, our Edwards and Henrys, but not a man who
combined with the highest military genius and success a genuine, lofty,
and loving Christian sentiment, and an earnest business-like mind like
Cromwell. He at once laid down the principle that all hostility to
the Commonwealth originated in the hatred of its free and Christian
character; and he showed that all these enemies, of whatever theories,
had united themselves with Spain, which was the grand adversary of
this country, and had been so from the Reformation, because she was
bigotedly wedded to the system of Popery, with all its monks, Jesuits,
and inquisitors. He recapitulated its attempts to destroy Elizabeth and
her religion; the vain attempts of the Long Parliament to make peace
with it, because in any treaty where the Pope could grant absolution,
you were bound and they were loose; the murder of Ascham, the Long
Parliament's ambassador, and no redress obtained: and now he informed
them, and offered to produce the proofs, that Charles Stuart had
put himself in league with Spain, and, still more strange, that the
Levellers, pretending to demand a freer and more Republican Government,
had entered into the unnatural alliance with Charles and Spain to
murder him and destroy the Commonwealth.

[Illustration: ADMIRAL BLAKE.]

All this was perfectly true. Sexby, the Leveller, had gone over to
Charles, and thence to Spain, to solicit aid towards a Popish invasion,
offering first to kill Cromwell himself. He obtained forty thousand
crowns for the use of his party, and a promise of six thousand men when
they were ready to land in England, who should wait in Flanders. Some
of this money, when remitted to the accomplices in England, Cromwell
intercepted, as he assured the Parliament. Sexby followed to accomplish
his design of assassinating the Protector, as we shall find anon.
Cromwell proceeded to remind Parliament of the insurrections excited
by Charles's emissaries, Wagstaff and Rochester, and the conspiracy
of Gerard and Vowel, the outbreaks at Salisbury, Rufford Abbey, and
a score of other places; of Wildman taken in the act of penning his
call to rebellion, of the design to destroy Monk in Scotland, and of
similar instigations in the army in Ireland; of the plottings of the
Lord Taaffe with Hyde at Antwerp; and, finally, that there had been an
attempt to blow him up with gunpowder in his own house, and an officer
of the Guard had been engaged to seize him in his bed. These last he
characterised as "little fiddling attempts not worth naming," and which
he regarded no more than he did "a mouse nibbling at his heel." But
he told them that the animus altogether was of that un-English and
un-Christian character, that it became them to fight manfully against
it, and though they were low in funds, they should still put forth all
their energies to crush this malignant power of Spain, whence the other
enemies drew their strength. He informed them that France was well
disposed to them, and that all the rest of the world was at peace with
them.

He then assured them that the major-generals had done good service
in every quarter, that the improvement of the ministry had become
manifest through the exertions of the Commissioners, and that the
Presbyterians had themselves expressed their approbation of what had
been done in that respect. He strongly recommended to them further
equalisation and improvement of the laws, so that every one should have
cheap and easy justice, and that the purification of the public morals
should be carefully attended to--"the Cavalier interest, the badge and
character of continuing profaneness, disorder, and wickedness in all
places," having worked such deplorable effects. "Nobility and gentry
of this nation!" he exclaimed; "in my conscience it was a shame to be
a Christian, within these fifteen, sixteen, or seventeen years in this
nation; whether 'in Cæsar's house' or elsewhere! It was a shame, it
was a reproach to a man, and the badge of 'Puritan' was put on it." As
they would maintain nobility and gentry, he told them they must not
suffer these classes "to be patronisers or countenancers of debauchery
and disorders! And therefore," he concluded, "I pray and beseech you,
in the name of Christ, show yourselves to be men; quit yourselves
like men! It doth not infer any reproach if you do show yourselves
men--_Christian_ men, which alone will make you quit yourselves."

In the early days of the sitting of this Parliament--that is, in the
beginning of October--came the news of Stayner's victory over the
Spanish Plate fleet, and the capture of the treasure; and in the
beginning of November the money arrived, and thirty-eight waggon-loads
of silver were sent up from Portsmouth to the Mint to be coined, amid
universal rejoicings. Before the year closed, also, Cromwell, by the
help of Mazarin, effected a temporary separation of interests between
Charles Stuart and the Duke of York; but it did not last long. But by
this time Colonel Sexby was in England, watching his opportunity to
murder Cromwell. He was daring enough to introduce himself amongst the
Protector's escort in Hyde Park, and he and his accomplices had filed
nearly through the hinges of the gates through which the Protector was
accustomed to pass, so that they might create a sudden obstruction and
confusion, during which Sexby might shoot Cromwell. But not being able
to succeed to his mind, Sexby returned to Flanders to consult with the
royal party, and left sixteen hundred pounds in the hands of one Miles
Sindercomb, a cashiered quartermaster, who was to carry out the bloody
design. Sindercomb took a house in Hammersmith, where the road by
which the Protector passed to and from Hampton Court was very narrow,
and there he prepared an "infernal machine," consisting of a battery
of seven blunderbusses, which was to blow Cromwell's coach to atoms
as it passed; but the machine did not answer, or could not be used
from the crowd of Guards; and then Sindercomb resolved to set fire to
Whitehall by night, and kill Cromwell as he came out in the confusion.
He had bribed a great number of accomplices, many of them in the palace
itself, and had probably a considerable number of fellow conspirators,
for he had a hundred swift horses in stables in the neighbourhood, on
which he and his confederates might escape, the deed being done. All
this was with the privity and approbation of Charles, Clarendon, and
the rest of that Court, and shows the state of moral principle in it,
and which, after the Restoration, broke over England like a pestilence.
They were constantly dabbling in attempts at assassination, and in the
Clarendon papers themselves we have Clarendon's own repeated avowals of
his satisfaction in them. He styles these base assassins "brave fellows
and honest gentlemen," and thinks it a pity that any agent of the
Protectorate abroad should not have his throat cut.

But Sindercomb's wholesale bribery led to the detection of the plot.
Amongst those tampered with was Henry Toope, a Life Guardsman, who
revealed the scheme. On the 8th of January, 1657, Sindercomb attended
public worship in the evening at Whitehall Chapel. Toope, Cecil--who
had been engaged in the construction of the infernal machine--and
Sindercomb were arrested, and having been seen about General Lambert's
seat, it was examined, and there was found a basketful of the most
inflammable materials--strong enough, it was said, to burn through
stones--and a lighted slow-burning match, calculated to reach the
combustibles about midnight. There were found also holes bored in the
wainscot, to facilitate the communication of the fire, and of draughts
to encourage it. Toope and Cecil gave all the information that they
could, but Sindercomb was obstinately silent, and being found guilty by
a jury of high treason, was condemned to die on Saturday, the 13th. But
the evening before, his sister taking leave of him, contrived to carry
some poison to him, and the next morning he was found dead in his bed.

Parliament adjourned a week for the trial and examination of the plot,
and appointed a day of thanksgiving on Friday, the 23rd. But though
Sindercomb was dead, Sexby was alive, and as murderously inclined as
ever, and to prevent interrupting other affairs, we may now follow him
also to his exit. Though neither fleet nor money was ready to follow
up the blow if successful, the gloomy Anabaptist once more set out for
England with a tract in his possession, called "Killing no Murder,"
which was no doubt his own composition, though Colonel Titus, after
the Restoration, claimed the merit of it. This tract, taking it as a
settled fact that it was a noble piece of patriotism and virtue to kill
a tyrant, pronounced Cromwell a tyrant, and therefore declared that it
was a noble deed to kill him. It eulogised Sindercomb as the Brutus
or Cato of the time. Sexby, disguised like a countryman, and with a
large beard, travelled about distributing this pamphlet, but he was
tracked, discovered, and lodged in the Tower. There he either went mad
or pretended it, made a voluntary confession, found to be intended only
to mislead, and, falling ill, died in the following January.

One of the first things which this second Parliament of the
Protectorate did was to abolish the authority of the major-generals.
Cromwell had assured them that they were doing good service in
suppressing disturbances, and he told them so again; but there were
many complaints of their rigour, especially of levying heavy fines on
the Royalists; and Parliament, on the 29th of January, voted their
withdrawal. The next matter, which occupied them for above three
months, was the case of James Naylor, the mad Quaker, whom they
sentenced to a punishment that was simply diabolical in its inhumanity.
Before this was settled, Parliament entered on a far more momentous
question--no less than whether they should not make Cromwell king.

Those who take an unfavourable view of the character of Cromwell, who
regard him as a base mixture of hypocrisy and ambition, accuse him of
having planned and manœuvred for this object; but there appears no
evidence of this, but rather that the continual uneasiness created by
the Royalist and Anabaptist assassins led many seriously to consider
the peculiar position of the nation, and the great dangers to which
it was exposed. There was nothing between the nation and all its old
confusions but the life of one clear-headed, and strong-hearted, and
strong-handed man, a life which was environed with perils. They deemed
these dangers would be diminished by altering the form of government,
and returning to a House of Lords and a Monarchy--but not to the
corrupt and murder-seeking Stuarts. Had they their honest and earnest
Protector converted into a king, and the succession settled on his
family, the nation would jealously guard his life, and the hopes of the
exiled family be diminished by the prospect of a successor of his own
blood, even if he fell.

On the 23rd of February, 1657, suddenly Sir Christopher Pack, late
Lord Mayor of London, craved leave to read a paper, which turned out
to be drawn up in the form of a Remonstrance from Parliament to the
Protector on the state of the country, and proposing a new form of
government, including a House of Lords and himself as king. No sooner
did the officers of the army, who had just lost their pro-consular
dignity, and the other Republicans hear the proposition, than they
rose, seized Pack, and hurried him from his seat to the bar of the
House as a traitor. But those who were friendly to the proposition rose
also in his defence, and after much commotion, the paper was not only
read but debated. From this moment this subject occupied the House,
with little intermission, till the 9th of May, or between two and three
months. The title of the paper was changed from "A humble Address and
Remonstrance," to "The humble Petition and Advice of the Parliament of
England, Scotland, and Ireland." Its clauses were debated and carried
one by one by a majority of a hundred to forty-four, and on the last
day of the debate, March 26th, the blank left for the word king was
filled in by a majority of one hundred and twenty-three to sixty-two.
On the 31st of March an address was carried to the Protector at
Whitehall by the Speaker and the House, praying that his Highness would
be pleased to adopt their resolutions, and take upon him the state and
title of king.

Unquestionably, this was the greatest temptation which had ever been
thrown in the way of Cromwell. To have made his way by his energy
and talent from the simple condition of a gentleman-farmer to the
Dictatorship of the nation, and now to have the crown and succession
of these great kingdoms offered to him and his family by Parliament,
was a matter which would not have been much opposed by an ordinary man.
But Cromwell was not of a character lightly to accept even a crown.
He showed clearly that he had a strong inclination to place himself
and his posterity in that august position, but he knew too well that
the honour had also its dangers and its black side. His acceptance
would at once darken his fair fame by settling it in the conviction
of three-fourths of the kingdom that he had only fought and put down
the Stuarts to set up himself. There was, moreover, a formidable
party opposed to kingship, and especially decided against it were his
generals and the army. A deputation of a hundred of them had waited
on him on the 27th, with an address on the subject, in which they
assured him that such a thing would be "a scandal to the people, would
prove more than hazardous to his person, and would pave the way for
the return of Charles Stuart." Let the nation but become once more
accustomed to the name of king, and it would recall the ancient race on
the first opportunity.

Cromwell felt too well the truth of these representations, and
therefore he required of the House time to reflect on their important
offer, though he had watched carefully the progress of the debate.
He desired that a committee might be appointed to confer with him
on all the articles of the new Instrument of Government proposed to
him. A committee of ninety-nine persons was accordingly appointed,
amongst them Whitelock, Glynn, the Lord Chief Justice, Lord Broghill,
Nathaniel Fiennes, one of the Keepers of the Great Seal, etc. They had
many meetings, but Cromwell, instead of giving his opinion upon the
subject, desired to know their reasons for recommending this change.
The chief reasons advanced were, the ancient habits of the nation; that
the people were proud of the honour of their monarchs; that that form
of government had prevailed from the most ancient period, and what no
doubt weighed greatly with them was that, by the 9th of Edward IV. and
the 3rd of Henry VII., it was enacted that all who took up arms for or
obeyed the king _de facto_, were held guiltless; but not so they who
served a protector _de facto_.

Cromwell admitted that this was a matter of precaution which demanded
serious consideration, and that he regarded the proposal to him as "a
very singular honour and favour," and would return such an answer as
God should give him, or as he should arrive at through discussion
with them; but that his conscience yet was not clear upon the subject,
and they must examine the grounds for it further. Whitelock says the
Protector often advised about this matter of the kingship, and other
great businesses, with a select number of the committee--Lord Broghill,
Mr. Pierpoint, brother of the Earl of Kingston, Thurloe, Whitelock,
and Sir Charles Wolseley,--and would be shut up three or four hours
together, and none else were admitted to him. He sometimes would be
very cheerful with them, and, laying aside his greatness, would be
exceedingly familiar; and, by way of diversion, would make verses and
play at crambo with them, when every one had to try his fancy. He
commonly called for tobacco, pipes, and a caudle, and would now and
then take tobacco himself. Then he would fall again to his serious and
great business of the kingship.

They were interrupted, however, in their colloquies, by a fresh
outbreak of the Fifth-Monarchy men. These religionists, who admitted
the idea of no king but Christ, were especially exasperated at this
attempt to set up an earthly king, and determined to rise and prevent
it. They fixed Thursday, the 9th of April, for the rising. They issued
a proclamation called "A Standard set up," ordered Mile End as the
place of rendezvous, and, headed by one Venner, a wine merchant, and
other persons of the City, calculated on introducing the reign of
the Millennium. They encouraged each other, says Thurloe, with the
exhortation that though they were but worms, yet they should be made
instrumental to thresh mountains. They spoke, he says, great words of
the reign of the saints, and the beautiful kingdom of holies which they
were to erect, and talked of taking away all taxes, excise, custom, and
tithes. They had banners painted with the device of the lion of the
tribe of Judah, and the motto, "Who shall raise him up?"

But the wide-awake Thurloe had watched all their motions. That morning
at daybreak he marched a troop of horse down upon the meeting at
Mile End, seized Venner and twenty other ringleaders, with chests of
arms, many copies of the proclamation, and the famous war-flag of
the lion-couchant of Judah. Major-General Harrison, Admiral Lawson,
Colonel Rich, and others of the leaders of the Fifth-Monarchy men were
also seized, and with these men shut up in the Tower, but no further
punished. Venner ended his days for a similar attempt in the reign of
Charles II.

[Illustration: CROMWELL REFUSING THE CROWN. (_See p._ 142.)]

The discussions of Cromwell and the committee were resumed, and,
without coming to any conclusion, on Tuesday, the 21st of April, the
Protector suddenly left the consideration of the kingship, and examined
the other articles of the Instrument. The chief of these were, that
men of all classes should be capable of electing and being elected to
Parliament or to offices of State, excepting Papists and Royalists,
styled Malignants, at least such Royalists as had been in arms against
the Parliament since 1642, unless they had since given signal proof
of repentance by bearing arms for the Parliament; all who had been
concerned in the Irish rebellion since 1650, or in any plot in England
or Wales since December, 1653; all in Scotland who had been in arms
against the Parliament of England or Parliament of Scotland, except
such as had lived peaceably since the 1st of March, 1652. Besides those
thus excluded, all freeholders of counties, and all burgesses and
citizens of towns--constituting in fact a household suffrage--could
vote for members of Parliament.

All who were atheistical, blasphemous, married to Popish wives, or who
trained children, or suffered their children to be trained in Popery,
or consented that their children should marry Papists, who scoffed at
religion or at religious people, who denied the Scriptures to be God's
Word, who denied the Sacraments, ministers, or magistracy to be divine
ordinances (like the Fifth-Monarchy men), who were Sabbath-breakers,
swearers, haunters of taverns and alehouses--in short, all who were
unchristian men--were excluded from electing or being elected. All
public preachers were excluded, as better employed in their own
vocation, but at the recommendation of Cromwell this was restricted to
such preachers as had fixed livings, and did not affect mere voluntary
occasional preachers, like himself and many other officers.

A second House of Parliament was to be organised, to consist of
not less than forty members, nor more than seventy, who were to be
nominated by the Protector, and approved by the Commons. It was not
to be called the House of Lords, nor the Upper, but the Other House.
The same qualifications and disqualifications applied to it as to the
Commons. All judges and public officers, as well as those of the army
and navy, were to be approved of by the two Houses; or if Parliament
were not sitting, by the Council. Another article settled the revenue,
and all relating to it and--the most important one to the Protector--he
was authorised to name his successor before his death. These matters
being settled, and the Instrument revised by Parliament, on the 8th of
May Cromwell summoned the House to meet him in the Banqueting-house,
Whitehall, where he ratified the rest of the Instrument, but gave them
this answer as to the kingship--that having taken all the circumstances
into consideration, both public and private, he did not feel at liberty
in his conscience to accept the government with the title of king;
that whatever was not of faith was sin; and that not being satisfied
that he could accept it in that form to the real advantage of the
nation, he should not be an honest man if he did not firmly--but
with every acknowledgment of the infinite obligations they had laid
him under--decline it. This was his answer to that great and weighty
business.

Whitelock assures us that Cromwell at one time had been satisfied in
his private judgment that he might accept the royal title, but that the
formidable opposition of the officers of the army had shown him that it
might lead to dangerous and deplorable results, and that therefore he
believed it better to waive it. Whatever the motives, whether those of
conscience or prudence, or both, inciting the Protector, he surmounted
his temptation, and decided with the firmness characteristic of him.
Major-Generals Whalley, Goffe, and Berry are said to have been for
his acceptance of the crown; Desborough and Fleetwood were strenuous
against it, but Lambert, temporising, appearing to approve whilst he
was secretly opposing, and at length coming out strong against it, was
the only one whom Cromwell visited with his displeasure. He dismissed
him, but with a pension of two thousand pounds a year, and Lambert
retired to Wimbledon, where it had been happy for him had he remained
in quiet.

On the 26th of June, 1657, the grand ceremony of the inauguration
of the Protector as the head of this new Government took place in
Westminster Hall. The Protector went thither from Whitehall by
water, and entered the hall in the following manner:--First went his
gentlemen, then a herald, next the aldermen, another herald, then
Norroy, the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, and the Great Seal
carried by Commissioner Fiennes, then Garter, and after him the Earl
of Warwick, with the sword borne before the Protector, bareheaded,
the Lord Mayor carrying the City sword at his left hand. Being seated
in his chair, on the left hand of it stood the Lord Mayor and the
Dutch ambassador; on the right the French ambassador and the Earl of
Warwick; next behind him stood his son Richard and his sons-in-law
Claypole and Fleetwood, and the Privy Council. Upon a lower platform
stood the Lord Viscount Lisle, Lord Montague, and Whitelock, with drawn
swords. As the Protector stood under the cloth of State, the Speaker
presented him with a robe of purple velvet, lined with ermine, which
the Speaker and Whitelock put upon him. Then the Speaker presented him
with a Bible richly gilt and bossed, girt the sword about his Highness,
and delivered into his hand the sceptre of massy gold. Having done
this, he made the Protector an address, and finally administered the
oath. Then Mr. Manton, one of the chaplains, in prayer recommended
his Highness, the Parliament, the Council, the forces by land and
sea, and the whole Government and the people of the three nations to
the blessing and protection of God. On that the trumpets sounded, the
heralds proclaimed his Highness Protector of England, Scotland, and
Ireland; and again the trumpets sounded, and the people shouted, "God
save the Protector!" This closed the ceremony, and the Protector and
his train returned to Whitehall as they came.

The ceremony, it is clear, fell little short of a royal ceremony, with
the exception of the crown and the anointing. Charles Stuart might have
used the words of James of Scotland to Johnny Armstrong--"What lacks
this knave that a king should have?" With the exception of the name of
king, Cromwell, the farmer, was become the monarch of Great Britain and
Ireland. He had all the power, and inhabited the palaces of kings. He
had the right to place his son in the supreme seat after him; and one
whole House of Parliament was of his own creation, while the other was
purged to his express satisfaction.

Cromwell had not enjoyed his new dignity more than about six weeks,
when he received the news of the death of his great Admiral Blake.
His health had been for some time decaying. Scurvy and dropsy were
fast destroying him, yet to the last he kept his command at sea, and
finished his career with one of the most brilliant victories which had
ever been achieved. During the winter and spring he maintained the
blockade of Cadiz, but learning that the Plate fleet had taken refuge
in the harbour of Santa Cruz, in the Island of Teneriffe, he made sail
thither. He found the fleet drawn up under the guns of seven batteries
in the harbour, which was shaped like a horseshoe. The merchantmen,
ten in number, were ranged close inshore, and the galleons, in number
and of greater force than any of his own ships, placed in front of
them. It was a sight--seven forts, a castle, and sixteen ships--to have
daunted any man but Blake. Don Diego Darques, the Spanish admiral, was
so confident of the impregnable nature of his position, that he sent
Blake word to come and take his vessels. "But," says Clarendon, "the
illustrious genius of Blake was admired even by the hostile faction of
his countrymen. He was the first man that declined the old track, and
made it manifest that the science might be obtained in less time than
was imagined; and despised those rules which had been long in practice,
to keep his ship and men out of danger, which had been held in former
times a point of great ability and circumspection, as if the principal
art requisite in the captain of a ship had been to be sure to come safe
home again; the first man who brought the ships to contemn castles on
shore, which had been thought ever very formidable; the first that
infused that portion of courage into the seamen, by making them see
what mighty things they could do if they were resolved, and taught them
to fight in fire as well as upon water."

Blake did not hesitate. The wind was blowing into the harbour on the
20th of April, 1657; and trusting to the omnipotent instincts of
courage, he dashed into the harbour at eight o'clock in the morning.
Stayner, who had so lately defeated the Spanish Plate fleet, and
destroyed in it the viceroy of Peru, now led the way in a frigate, and
Blake followed with the larger ships. His fleet altogether amounted
to twenty-five sail. It was received with a hurricane of fire from
the batteries on both sides the harbour and the fleet in front; but
discharging his artillery right and left, he advanced, silencing the
forts, and soon driving the seamen from the front line of galleons into
the merchant ships. For four hours the terrible encounter continued,
the British exposed to a deadly hail of ball from the shore as well
as the ships, but still pressing on till the Spanish ships were all
in flames, and reduced to ashes, the troops in them having escaped to
land. The question, then, was how to escape out of the harbour, and
from the fury of the exasperated Spaniards on the land around. But
Blake drew his ships out of reach of the forts and, as if Providence
had wrought in his favour--as Blake firmly believed He did--the wind
about sunset veered suddenly round, and the fleet sailed securely out
to sea.

The fame of this unparalleled exploit rang throughout Europe, and
raised the reputation of England for naval prowess to the greatest
pitch. Unhappily, death was fast claiming the undaunted admiral. He
was suffering at the moment that he won this brilliant triumph, and,
sailing homewards, he expired (August 17, 1657) on board his ship, the
_St. George_, just as it entered the harbour of Plymouth. Besides the
high encomium of Clarendon, he received that of a writer of his own
party and time, in the narrative of the "Perfect Politician"--"He was
a man most wholly devoted to his country's service, resolute in his
undertakings, and most faithful in his performances of them. With him
valour seldom missed its reward, nor cowardice its punishment. When
news was brought him of a metamorphosis in the State at home, he would
then encourage the seamen to be most vigilant abroad; for, said he, it
was not our duty to mind State affairs, but to keep foreigners from
fooling us. In all his expeditions the wind seldom deceived him, but
mostly in the end stood his friend, especially in his last undertaking
in the Canary Islands. To the last he lived a single life, never being
espoused to any but his country's quarrels. As he lived bravely, he
died gloriously, and was buried in Henry VII.'s Chapel, yet enjoying
at this time no other monument but what is raised by his valour, which
time itself can hardly deface."

During this summer, Oliver had not only been gloriously engaged at
sea, but he had been busy on land. He was in league with Louis XIV. of
France to drive the Spaniards from the Netherlands. The French forces
were conducted by the celebrated Marshal Turenne, and the Spanish by
Don John of Austria, and the French insurgent chief, the Prince of
Condé. Cromwell sent over six thousand men under Sir John Reynolds, who
landed near Boulogne on the 13th and 14th of May. They were supported
by a strong fleet under Admiral Montague, the late colleague of Blake,
which cruised on the coast. The first united operations were to be
the reduction of Gravelines, Mardyke, and Dunkirk, the first of which
places, when taken, was to belong to France, the two latter to England.
If Gravelines were taken first, it was to be put into possession of
England, as a pledge for the conveyance of the two latter. This bold
demand on the part of Cromwell astonished his French allies, and was
violently opposed by the French cabinets, who told Louis that Dunkirk
once in the hands of the English, would prove another Calais to France.
But without Dunkirk, which Cromwell deemed necessary as a check to
the Royalist invasions from the Netherlands, with which he was
continually threatened, no aid was to be had from the Protector, and it
was conceded, whence came the angry declaration from the French, that
"Mazarin feared Cromwell more than the Devil."

The French Court endeavoured to employ the English forces on other work
than the reduction of these stipulated places. The young French king
went down to the coast to see the British army, and having expressed
much admiration of them recommended them to lay siege to Montmédy,
Cambray, and other towns in the interior. Cromwell was, however, too
much of a man of business and a general to suffer this. He ordered
his ambassador, Sir William Lockhart (who had married the Protector's
niece, Miss Rosina Sewster) to remonstrate, and insist on the attack
of Gravelines, Mardyke, and Dunkirk. He told the ambassador that to
talk of Cambray and interior towns as guarantees was "parcels of words
for children. If they will give us garrisons, let them give us Calais,
Dieppe, and Boulogne." He bade him tell the Cardinal that if he meant
any good from the treaty with him, he must keep it, and go to work on
Dunkirk, when, if necessary, he would send over two thousand more of
his veterans. This had the necessary effect: Mardyke was taken after
a siege of three days only, and put into the hands of the English on
the 23rd of September. The attack was then turned on Gravelines; but
the enemy opened their sluices, and laid all the country round under
water. On this Turenne, probably glad of the delay, put his troops
at that early period into winter quarters. During this time attempts
were made to corrupt the English officers by the Stuart party. The
Duke of York was in the Spanish army with the English Royalist exiles,
and communications were opened as of mere civility with the English
at Mardyke. As the English officers took their rides between Mardyke
and Dunkirk they were frequently met by the duke's officers, and
conversation took place. Sir John Reynolds was imprudent enough to pay
his respects to the duke on these occasions, and he was soon ordered
to London to answer for his conduct; but both he and a Colonel White,
who was evidence against him, were lost on the 5th of December on
the Goodwin Sands. The Duke of York now made a treacherous attack on
Mardyke, but was repulsed, and the affairs of Charles II. appeared so
hopeless, that Burnet asserts, and the same thing is asserted also in
the "Orrery Letters," that he was now mean enough to offer to marry one
of Cromwell's daughters, and thus settle all differences, but that
Cromwell told Lord Orrery that Charles was so debauched that he would
undo them all. Cromwell, indeed, just now married his two remaining
single daughters, Frances and Mary, to the Lords Rich and Falconberg.
Frances married Lord Rich, the son of the Earl of Warwick, and Mary
Lord Falconberg, of the Yorkshire family of Bellasis, formerly so
zealous for the royal party.

[Illustration: _By permission of the Corporation of Liverpool._

CROMWELL REFUSING THE CROWN, 1657.

FROM THE PICTURE BY J. SCHEX IN THE WALKER ART GALLERY, LIVERPOOL.]

[Illustration: ARREST OF CONSPIRATORS AT THE "MERMAID." (_See p._ 147.)]

The year 1658 opened by the meeting of the new Parliament. It was a
critical venture, and not destined to succeed better than the former
ones. To constitute the new House, called the Other House, Cromwell
had been obliged to remove to it most of the best-affected members of
the Commons. To comply with the "Petition and Advice," he had been
forced to admit into the Commons many who had been expelled from
former Parliaments for their violent Republicanism. The consequences
at once appeared. The Other House consisted of sixty-three members. It
included six of the ancient Peers--the Earls of Manchester, Warwick,
Mulgrave, Falconberg, Saye and Sele, and Lord Eure. But none but Eure
and Falconberg took their seats, not even the Earl of Warwick, whose
son and heir, Lord Rich, had just married the Protector's daughter. He
and the others objected to sit in the same House with General Hewson,
who had once been a shoemaker, and Pride, who had been a drayman.
Amongst the members appeared a considerable number of the officers
of the army, and the chief Ministers of State. These included the
Protector's two sons, Richard and Henry Cromwell, Fiennes, Keeper of
the Great Seal, Lisle, Fleetwood, Monk, Whalley, Whitelock, Barkstead,
Pride, Hewson, Goffe, Sir Christopher Pack, alderman of London, General
Claypole, St. John, and other old friends of the Protector, besides
the lords already mentioned. As they had been called by writs, which
were copies of the royal writs used on such occasions, the members
immediately assumed that it made them peers, and gave them a title
to hereditary rank. They were addressed by Cromwell in his opening
speech as "My Lords, and Gentlemen of the House of Commons." His speech
was very short, for he complained of indisposition, the truth being,
that the life of excitement, struggle, and incessant care for twenty
years had undermined his iron frame, and he was breaking down; but
he congratulated them on the internal peace attained, warned them of
danger from without, and exhorted them to unity and earnestness for the
public good. Fiennes, after the Protector's retirement, addressed them
in a much longer speech on the condition of the nation.

But all hopes of this nondescript Parliament were vain. The Other House
no sooner met apart than they began inquiring into their privileges,
and, assuming that they were not merely the Other House, but the Upper
House, sent a message, after the fashion of the ancient peers by the
judges, to desire a conference with the Commons on the subject of a
fast. The Commons, however, who were by the new Instrument made judges
of the Other House, being authorised to approve or disapprove of it,
showed that they meant the Other House to be not an Upper House, but
a lower House than themselves. They claimed to be the representatives
of the people; but who, they asked, had made the Other House a House
of Peers, who had given them an authority and a negative voice over
_them?_ The first thing which the Commons did was to claim the powers
of the new Instrument, and admit the most violent of the excluded
members, for none were to be shut out except rebels or Papists.
Haselrig, who had been appointed one of the Other House, refused to sit
in it; but having been elected to the Commons, he appeared there, and
demanded his oath. Francis Bacon, the Clerk of the House, replied that
he dared not give it him; but Haselrig insisted, and being supported
by his party, he at length obtained his oath, and took his seat. It
was then soon seen that the efficient Government members were gone to
the Other House, and Haselrig, Scott, Robinson, and the most fiery
members of the Republican section now carried things their own way, and
commenced a course of vehement opposition. Scott ripped up the whole
history of the House of Lords during the struggle of the Commonwealth.
He said--"The Lords would not join in the trial of the king. We called
the king to our bar, and arraigned him. He was for his obstinacy and
guilt condemned and executed, and so let all the enemies of God perish!
The House of Commons had a good conscience in it. Upon this the Lords'
House adjourned, and never met again; and it was hoped the people
of England should never again have a negative upon them." But the
hostility of this party was not to the Other House merely, it was to
the Protectorate itself, which it declaimed against, and not only in
the House, but out of it, setting on foot petitions for the abolition
of the Protectorate by the Commons. Whitelock remarks that this course
boded the speedy dissolution of the House. Cromwell summoned both
Houses to Whitehall January 25th, only five days after their meeting,
and in a long and powerful speech remonstrated with the Commons on
their frantic proceedings. He took a wide view of the condition of
Europe, of the peace and Protestantism of England, and asked them
what were their hopes, if, by their decision, they brought back the
dissolute and bigoted Court which they had dismissed. He declared that
the man who could contemplate the restoration of such a state of things
must have the heart of a Cain; that he would make England the scene of
a bloodier civil war than they had had before. He prayed, therefore,
that whoever should seek to break the peace, God Almighty might root
that man out of the nation; and he believed that the wrath of God would
prosecute such a man to his grave, if not to hell.

But all argument was lost on that fiery section. Scott and Haselrig
continued their assaults on the whole frame of government more
strenuously than ever; and on the 4th of February, fifteen days from
the meeting of Parliament, amid the confused bickering of Scott and
Haselrig with the wearied House, arrived the Usher of the Black Rod to
summon the members to the Other House, which he called boldly the House
of Lords. Haselrig, in the midst of his harangue, was reminded of the
presence of the Black Rod. "What care I for Black Rod?" he exclaimed,
but he was compelled to obey.

The Protector expressed the intensity of his disappointment that the
very men who had importuned him to assume the burden of Government, and
even the title of king, should now, instead of attending to the urgent
business of the nation, endeavour violently to destroy that Government,
and throw everything into chaos. "I can say in the presence of God," he
continued, "in comparison with Whom we are but like poor creeping ants
upon the earth, I would have been glad to have lived under a wood-side,
to have kept a flock of sheep rather than have undertaken such a
Government as this. But undertaking it by the advice and petition of
you, I did look that you, who had offered it unto me, should make it
good." He added, "And if this be the end of your sitting, and this be
your carriage, I think it high time to put an end to your sitting; and
I do dissolve this Parliament." And thus closed the last Parliament of
Cromwell, after a session of a fortnight.

Having dismissed his Parliament, Cromwell had to take summary measures
with the host of conspirators whom his refractory Parliaments had only
tended to encourage. Since the "Killing no Murder" of Sexby, there
were numbers who were by no means careful to conceal that they loved
these doctrines, and persuaded the discontented that to kill Cromwell
was to cure all the evils of the nation. The Royalists, on their
part, who had always been advocates and practisers of assassination,
were more than ever on the alert. In the beginning of the year 1658
the plan of an invasion was completed. The King of Spain furnished
one hundred and fifty thousand crowns towards fitting it out: arms,
ammunition, and transports were purchased in Holland, and the port of
Ostend was to be the place of embarkation. The greatest drawback to
the hopes of the Royalists were the dissipated and debauched habits of
the king. Ormond, writing to Hyde, observed that he feared Charles's
immoderate delight in empty, effeminate, and vulgar conversation was
become an irresistible part of his nature, and would never suffer him
to animate his own designs and the actions of others with that spirit
which was necessary for his quality, and much more for his fortunes.
Yet this was the man on whom their hopes of the restoration of monarchy
were built. Ormond and O'Neil ventured to England in disguise, in
order to ascertain what were really the resources and the spirit of
the Royalists in the country. Ormond had private communication with
all parties--with the Earls of Manchester and Denbigh, with Rossiter
and Sir William Waller, as Presbyterians opposed to Cromwell and
the Independents; with Saye and Sele and others, who were willing
that Charles should return on his signing the same articles that his
father had offered in the Isle of Wight; and with such of the fanatic
Levellers as held the opinions of Sexby. But he found little that
was encouraging amongst any of them. If we are to believe Clarendon,
he was betrayed by one of those in whom he most trusted, Sir Richard
Willis, who was high in the confidence of Charles, but was at the same
time a paid spy of Cromwell's. It is certain that one day in March the
Protector said to Lord Broghill, "An old friend of yours is in town,
the Duke of Ormond, now lodged in Drury Lane, at the Papist surgeon's
there. You had better tell him to be gone." Broghill found that this
was the case, and gave Ormond the necessary hint, who hurried back
to Bruges, and assured Charles and his Court that Cromwell had many
enemies, but there was at present no chance of a successful invasion.

But if Cromwell was disposed to allow Ormond to escape, he was
compelled to make an example of some other of the Royalist agitators.
On the 12th of March the Protector sent for the Lord Mayor and aldermen
to Whitehall, informed them that the Duke of Ormond had been lurking in
the City to excite rebellion, and that it was necessary to take strict
measures for putting down the seditious of all sorts. At the same time
he ordered the fleet to sweep the coasts of the Netherlands, which
drove in there two fleets intended for the Royalist expedition, and
blockaded Ostend. He then determined to bring to justice some of the
most incorrigible agitators. Sir Henry Slingsby, who had been confined
in Hull ever since the outbreak of Penruddock, had not even there
ceased his active resistance, employing himself to corrupt the officers
of the garrison, who, being instructed by the governor, appeared to
listen to his views, so that ere long he was emboldened to offer them
commissions from Charles Stuart. Another person arrested was Dr. Hewit,
an Episcopalian clergyman, who preached at St. Gregory's, near St.
Paul's, and was a most indefatigable advocate of a royal invasion.
There were numbers of the Royalist apprentices and others in the City,
who were not patient enough to wait for the invasion; they resolved to
rise on the 15th of May, fire the houses near the Tower, and by sound
of drum proclaim the king. The Protector told Thurloe that "it was not
fit that there should be a plot of this kind every winter," and Thurloe
had made himself thoroughly aware of all their proceedings. As the time
approached, the ringleaders were seized at the "Mermaid," in Cheapside.
A High Court of Justice was appointed according to Act of Parliament,
and Slingsby, Hewit, and the City incendiaries were tried. There was
ample proof of their guilt. Hewit denied the authority of the court and
refused to plead, but he was all the same condemned with Slingsby and
six of the City traitors to death.

In the Netherlands Sir William Lockhart admirably supplied the place of
Sir John Reynolds, acting both as ambassador and general. The Allied
army opened the campaign of 1658 with the siege of Dunkirk. The Prince
of Condé had in vain assured the Spaniards that this would be the case,
whilst they imagined that the intention of the Allies was to besiege
Cambray. When Don John saw his mistake, he determined to attack the
Allies and raise the siege. But Turenne and Lockhart would not wait
to be attacked; they marched to meet the Spaniards, and surprised
them before they had received their supply of ammunition for the
intended assault. Don John hastily drew up his forces along a ridge of
sandhills, and gave the command of the right wing to the Duke of York,
and the left to Condé, himself commanding the centre. Lockhart was too
ill to take the command, but gave it to Colonel Morgan, who, with his
English forces, found himself opposed to the Duke of York. The English
dashed up the sandhill, and soon drove the infantry of the enemy before
them. They were then charged by the Duke of York at the head of the
Spanish cavalry, and the battle was terrible, but nearly half of the
duke's men fell under the well-directed fire of his countrymen. The
left wing, however, under Condé, had given way, and the duke, leaving
his rallied infantry to contend with the English in front, directed the
charge of his cavalry against their flank. It was in vain; the centre
gave way without fighting, and the brave English defending themselves
against their numerous assailants till relieved by a body of French
horse, the whole line of the Spaniards collapsed. The Duke of York, who
had fought gallantly, was saved in the first charge only by the temper
of his armour, and in the second he was surrounded by the enemy, and,
according to his own account, only extricated himself by assuming the
character of a French officer, and leading on several troopers to the
charge till he saw a chance of riding off. Marshal Turenne gave the
credit of the victory to the gallantry of the English, who had, at the
close of the battle, scarcely a single officer left alive. At Whitehall
the victory was attributed to the prayers of the saints at Court, for
it happened that the Protector had set apart that day for a solemn
fast, and, says Thurloe, "whilst we were praying, they were fighting,
and the Lord gave a signal answer."

The Lord Falconberg was despatched to carry congratulations to Louis
XIV., who was at Calais, and soon afterwards these were returned by the
Duke of Crequi and M. Mancini, the nephew of Mazarin, who expressed his
regret that, owing to the urgency of affairs, he was unable to come
himself, as he said he had long desired; but he sent a magnificent
sword from the king, and a fine piece of tapestry from himself. Dunkirk
was given up to the English, Gravelines was taken, Ypres surrendered,
and all the towns on the banks of the Lys fell into the hands of the
conquerors.

Here closed the victorious career of Oliver Cromwell; these were
the last of his triumphs, and nearly the last of his life. Though
he now stood apparently at the summit of fortune, both domestic and
foreign enemies being for the time subdued, yet the grand platform
of life and mortal glory was already giving way beneath him. His
health was undermined by the long conflict with a host of enemies, and
circumstances around him were gloom. Sickness had entered, death was
about to select its victims from his own house. His daughter Frances
was left a young widow by the death of Lord Rich, son of the Earl of
Warwick, twelve days after the dissolution of Parliament; his daughter
Claypole, his favourite daughter, was lying ill, and beyond the reach
of medical art at that period, and his own iron frame was yielding.
Around him, in his outward affairs, the circumstances were full of
anxiety. He knew that he had repulsed, but not destroyed, the domestic
enemies of his Government. They were as alert as ever to the chance of
starting up and again attempting to overturn his power. All his three
Parliaments had proved thoroughly unmanageable, and had reduced him
to the very measures so strongly condemned in Charles I.--continual
interruption of the debates, invasion of privileges, and abrupt
dissolutions to prevent the completion of hostile measures. The only
circumstance in his favour was that Charles's arbitrary acts were for
the formation of despotism; his for that of a rational liberty. Under
no previous Government had the people enjoyed such just laws, such just
judges, and so much liberty, especially religious liberty.

But, like Charles, Cromwell was now governing without a Parliament,
and, like him, being without a Parliament, he was without funds. The
wars on sea and land had emptied his exchequer, and to raise supplies
by arbitrary means would cover him with the odium which had clung to
the king he had overthrown. He appointed a committee of nine persons
to consider as to the best means of calling a Parliament likely to
work with the existing Government, and also to decide on the successor
to the Protectorate. But on this committee there were secret enemies,
and it came to no conclusion as to the Parliament; but as to the
succession, it determined that since the succession had been left
to the Protector, it was a matter of no consequence. Suspecting
their motives, and deriving no benefit from them, he dismissed the
committee towards the end of July, and was left with no resource but
the ingenuity of Thurloe, his secretary, who borrowed where he could,
but was often refused. This could not, however, last. His army was his
grand prop, and so long as it was duly paid and clothed there was no
danger, but let payment fall into arrears, and it would soon begin to
listen to the suggestions of the Republican and Anabaptist officers.
With these gloomy circumstances, his suspicions seem to have grown
of those about him, or of assassins who might make more successful
attempts than before; as his health failed his fears acquired a decided
mastery. He is said to have worn armour under his clothes: we know that
he had long carried loaded pistols. Clarendon says he had become much
"less easy of access, nor so much seen abroad; and he seemed to be in
some disorder when his eyes found any stranger in the room, upon whom
they still seemed fixed. When he intended to go to Hampton Court, which
was his principal delight and diversion, it was never known till he was
in the coach which way he would go; and he was still hemmed in by his
guards before and behind; and the coach, in which he went was always
thronged as full as it could be with his servants, who were armed, and
he seldom returned the same way he went, and rarely lodged two nights
together in one chamber, but had many furnished and prepared, to which
his own key conducted him."

[Illustration: JOHN THURLOE.]

Though this is the statement of an enemy, we can very well believe
it, for Cromwell's life had been for years aimed at by assassins,
both Royalist and Republican, by paid bravoes of Charles II., and by
fanatics. These various fears and anxieties told strongly as his
health failed. He reached his fifty-ninth year in April, and was
therefore pretty advanced towards his sixtieth. For fourteen days
before the death of Mrs. Claypole, the Protector was almost day and
night by her bedside, not being able to attend to any business in his
deep anxiety. Mrs. Claypole died on the 6th of August, and George Fox
going to Hampton Court, to represent to Cromwell the persecutions of
his friends, on the 20th of that month, met him riding in Hampton Court
Park at the head of his Life Guards, and was so struck with his altered
appearance, that he said "he felt a waft of death go forth against
him, and when he came up to him he looked like a dead man." On hearing
George's statement, he desired him to come to the palace to him; but
next day, when Fox went thither, he was told that he was much worse,
and that the physicians were not willing he should speak with anybody.

Cromwell died on the 3rd of September, the day of Dunbar and Worcester,
the day which he had set down as his fortunate day, and which was in
nothing more so than in this last event. He laid down a burden which he
had often said "was too heavy for man," and with the possession of that
form of government which he sincerely deemed essential to truth and
liberty still in his grasp. It was a form of government which had no
foundation in the convictions of the people, and which sooner or later
was bound to fall; and the old prejudices in favour of royalty bring
back a fresh lesson of martyrdom to its votaries. The Dictatorship was
at an end; it had been maintained by Cromwell's innate vigour, and
could only last as long as he did. The day that he died was a day of
terrible wind, and his enemies declared that the devil came in it to
fetch him away; but his friends said that Nature could not witness the
departure of so great a spirit without marking its strong emotion. Many
are the sayings of his last hours reported by friends and foes, but
it is certain that he expressed his firm belief that he died in the
unbroken covenant with God.

On his deathbed the Protector had been asked to name his successor.
Empowered by the "Petition and Advice," he had already named him in
a sealed packet, which now, however, could not be found, and though
he was supposed to say Richard, it was so indistinctly, that it was
by no means certain. However, Richard was proclaimed in London and
Westminster, and then in all the large towns at home, and in Dunkirk,
and the colonies abroad. At first all appeared favourable for the
peaceable succession of Richard. All parties hastened to congratulate
him. Foreign ministers sent addresses of condolence and intimations of
their desire to renew their alliances. From all parts of the country,
and from the City, and from one hundred congregational churches, poured
in addresses, conceived in the most fulsome affectation of religion.
Cromwell had been a Moses, but his son was a Joshua. Elijah was gone,
but Elisha remained.

The Royalists were confounded to find everything pass over so smoothly,
but all who knew the retiring disposition of Richard, and the volcano
of raging materials which lay in the sects, factions, and parties which
at that moment divided and agitated England, could only look on it as
the lull before the tempest. Richard Cromwell had all his life long
displayed a liking only for a quiet country life. He had no ambitions,
either military or political. He had lived in his domestic retirement,
entering neither the field nor the cabinet, and his father, in his
letters, was continually calling him "indolent Dick." It was impossible
that such a man could ever curb the fierce and conflicting factions
with which he was surrounded; it is most probable that he only longed
to be well rid of the whole onerous burden.

There were various leaders in the army so nearly equal in rank and
influence that there was sure to be strife for the chief command.
Fleetwood had married a sister of the present Protector; Desborough was
his uncle; his brother Henry, who was Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, was
a much more resolute and able man than himself; and Monk, in Scotland,
had great power in his hands. The chief command in the army lay, by
the late Instrument, in the Protector himself; but the officers of
the army met and drew up a petition that the chief command should be
conferred on some one of the generals who had shown his attachment to
the cause by his services, and that no officer should be deprived of
his commission except by sentence of a court-martial. Richard, by the
advice of Thurloe, replied that he had appointed General Fleetwood
lieutenant-general of the forces, but that to give up the supreme
command would be to violate the "Petition and Advice," by which he
held his own authority. This did not content the officers; they still
held their meetings, a liberty which Oliver had wisely suppressed,
and there were many suspicions expressed amongst them. They asserted
that Henry Cromwell would soon be placed above Fleetwood, who, though
conscientious, was very weak and vacillating, and they demanded that
Thurloe, St. John and Pierpoint, Richard's ablest counsellors, should
be dismissed, as enemies to the army. It was clear that a collision
must take place between these parties and Thurloe, and his friends
advised Richard to call a Parliament, by which he would not only be
able to curb the power of the officers, but to raise money for the
payment of the soldiers. The nation was keeping a large fleet under
Ayscue, or Ayscough, part of which was cruising in the Baltic, to
protect the English allies, the Swedes, against the Danes and Dutch,
and another, under Montague, was blockading the Dutch coast. Money,
therefore, was absolutely necessary to defray expenses, and Richard
consented to call a Parliament. It was a necessary evil, a formidable
undertaking. For the five months that passed before their meeting,
Richard ruled with all the outward state, and with more than the
quiet of his father. But his father, with all his vigour and tact,
had never been able to manage a Parliament, most of the members of
which immediately set about to overthrow him; what hope, then, that
Richard could contend with such a restless and domineering body? It
was absolutely impossible, and he was speedily made sensible of it. To
introduce as many members of the Commons as he could favourable to his
views, he departed from his father's plan of only calling them from the
larger boroughs and the counties, and restored the franchise to the
lesser and decayed boroughs. Every means was used besides to obtain
the return of men favourable to the Government; and in Scotland and
Ireland, from whence thirty members each were admitted, the elections
were conducted under the eyes of the commander of the forces. But,
notwithstanding, from the very first assembling of the Commons, they
showed that they were likely to be as unmanageable as ever. When
Richard summoned the Commons to meet him in the Lords scarcely half the
members attended, lest they should sanction the existence of a body
which they disclaimed. The Commons were as much divided as the army.
There were the friends of the Government, who were instructed to stand
firm by the "Petition and Advice," and the Government, founded by it,
of one ruling person and two Houses of Parliament. Then there were the
Presbyterians and Republicans, who were for no Lords nor Protector
either, and were led on by Haselrig, Scott, Bradshaw, Lambert, Ludlow,
and others of those united parties, with whom Vane and Fairfax now
co-operated. Fairfax, from the moment when he showed his disapprobation
of the death of Charles I., had retired into private life, but now he
reappeared, and though become a Royalist at heart, his spirited lady no
doubt having roused that feeling in him, he voted with the Republican
party, as most likely to prevail against the Protectorate, and thus
pave the way to monarchy. Besides these, there were many neutrals or
moderates, and a considerable sprinkling of young Royalists, who, by
Charles's advice, had got in under other colours.

However much these parties differed amongst themselves, there were
sufficient of them adverse to the Protectorate to commence an immediate
attack upon it. They fell at once to debating the legality of the
"Petition and Advice," and of course Government by a single person and
two Houses. They asked what was the "Petition and Advice," and they
declared it to be an instrument of no validity, passed by a very small
majority of a House from which a hundred members had been forcibly
excluded. The debates were long and violent. Though Parliament met on
the 27th of January, 1659, it was the 14th of February before they had
decided that Richard's right to the Protectorate should be settled by
another Bill, but with much restricted prerogative, and it was not
till the 28th of March that they allowed the right of the other House
to sit, but with no superiority to the Commons, and with no authority
to send messages to it except by members of the House. These points
settled, there were high demands for a searching inquiry into the
management of all departments of the State, with heavy charges of
waste, embezzlement, oppression, and tyranny, in the collection of the
excise. Threats of impeachment were held out against Thurloe and the
principal ministers, as well as against Butler and some others of the
officers.

This aroused the generals, who were themselves divided into two great
factions. One set met at Whitehall under Ingoldsby, Whalley, Goffe,
Lord Charles Howard, and others favourable to the Protector; another,
under Fleetwood and Desborough, met at Wallingford House, who, though
the Protector's own relations, were bent on their own and the army's
ascendency. They were joined by Lambert, who, after being deprived of
his commission, had remained at Wimbledon, cultivating his garden, and
seeming to be forgotten; but now he came forth again and was received
with enthusiasm by the soldiers, who had great confidence in his
ability. Desborough used also to meet with a third party, consisting
chiefly of the inferior officers, at St. James's.

At this place of meeting a council of officers was organised, which
soon became influential with the Wallingford House, or Fleetwood's,
section. Here they drew up an address to Richard, complaining of the
arrears of their pay being withheld, and of the neglect with which the
army was treated; of the attempts to overthrow the Acts passed by the
Long Parliament, and the encouragement thereby given to the Royalists,
who were flocking over from Flanders, and exciting discontent against
"the good old cause," and against the persons and interests of those
who had shed their blood for the Commonwealth. This address was
presented on the 14th of April by Fleetwood, with no less than six
hundred signatures. Though it did not even mention the name of this
Parliament, that body felt that it was directed entirely against them,
and immediately voted that no meeting or general council of officers
should be held without the consent and order of the Protector, and that
no person should hold any command by sea or land who did not forthwith
sign an engagement that he would not in any way disturb or prevent the
free meeting and debates of Parliament, or the freedom of any member
of Parliament. This was certain to produce a retort from the army--it
was an open declaration of war upon it; and accordingly Fleetwood and
Desborough waited on Richard and assured him that it was absolutely
necessary to dissolve Parliament; and Desborough, who was a bold, rough
soldier, declared that if he did not do it, he felt sure the army would
soon pull him out of Whitehall.

It may be questioned how far this declaration was warranted by the real
facts of the case. The majority of the army was probably opposed to any
violence being shown to the son of the great Protector, but in critical
times it is the small knot of restless, unscrupulous spirits who rule
the inert mass, and impose their own views upon the sluggish and the
timid; and Desborough well knew the irresolute and impressionable
character of Richard Cromwell.

On the other hand, many members of Parliament protested that they would
stand by him, that if he allowed the army to suppress Parliament, he
would find it immediately his own master, and would be left without
a friend. Ingoldsby, Goffe, and Whalley supported this view, and one
of them offered to go and kill Lambert, who was the originator of all
the mischief. Richard called a council to consider the proposition.
Whitelock represented the danger of dissolving Parliament, and leaving
himself at the mercy of the army; but Thurloe, Lord Broghill, Fiennes,
and Wolseley declared there was no alternative, for if the army and
Parliament came to strife, the Cavaliers would rise and bring in
Charles. Richard reluctantly gave way, and on the 22nd of April he
signed a commission empowering Fiennes, the Keeper of the Seal, to
dissolve Parliament. Fiennes summoned the Commons to the Upper House by
the Usher of the Black Rod, but they shut the door in the face of that
officer, and refused to obey, adjourning themselves for three days.
Fiennes, however, declared Parliament dissolved, the Commons having
been duly summoned to witness it, and a proclamation was issued to that
effect.

The warning of Whitelock was at once verified; the moment that the
Parliament ceased, all regard to Richard by the army ceased with
it. From that moment he was deserted except by a small knot of
officers--Goffe, Whalley, and Ingoldsby,--and he was as completely
annihilated as Protector as if all parties had deposed him by assent
and proclamation. The council of officers proceeded to take measures
for the exercise of the supreme power. They placed guards to prevent
the adjourned Commons from re-taking their seats at Westminster as
they proposed, and by their own authority dismissed Ingoldsby, Goffe,
Whalley, and the other officers who had adhered to Richard, from their
commands in the army, and restored Lambert and all the others who had
been cashiered by Oliver. Having thus restored the Republicanism of
the army, they determined to recall the Rump, as a body which they
believed they could command; and they accordingly issued an order
for the reassembling of the House of Commons which Oliver had so
unceremoniously dismissed on the 20th of April, 1653. At this call,
Lenthall, the old Speaker of the Rump, with about forty or fifty
members of the Rump, hastened the next day to Westminster, where
Lambert kept guard with the troops, and after some discussion in the
Painted Chamber, they went in a body to the House through two files
of Lambert's soldiers, and took their places as a real Parliament.
But their claim to this exclusive right was immediately disputed. The
same day, the 7th of May, a large number of the members who had been
excluded by Pride's purge, in 1648, of whom one hundred and ninety-four
were still alive, and eighty of them residing in the capital,
assembled in Westminster Hall, and sent up to the House a deputation
of fourteen, headed by Prynne, Annesley, and Sir George Booth, to
demand equal liberty to sit; but as this would have overwhelmed them
with a Presbyterian majority, the doors were closed against them:
they were kept back by the soldiers who filled the lobby, who were
ironically called "the keepers of the liberties of England," and they
were informed that no member could sit who had not already signed the
engagement. On the 9th, however, Prynne made his way into the House,
and kept his seat, in spite of all efforts to dislodge him, till
dinner-time; but going out to dine, he found himself shut out on his
return.

[Illustration: THE MANOR HOUSE, WIMBLEDON (1660).]

The Rump now proceeded to appoint a Committee of Safety, and then
a Council of State, which included Fairfax, Lambert, Desborough,
Bradshaw, Fleetwood, Ashley Cooper, Haselrig, Vane, Ludlow, St.
John, and Whitelock. Letters were received from Monk in Scotland,
congratulating the Rump on their return to power, but hypocritically
begging them to keep in mind the services of Cromwell and his family.
Lockhart sent over from Flanders the tendered services of the regiments
there, and was confirmed in his office of ambassador, and also
commissioned to attend a conference between the ministers of France
and Spain, to be held at Fuentarabia, whither Charles Stuart had also
betaken himself. Montague sent in the adhesion of the fleet, and, what
was still more consoling, Henry Cromwell, whose opposition in Ireland
was much dreaded, resigned his office, and was permitted to retire into
private life.

The Wallingford House party of officers alone created serious
apprehension. They sent in a list of fifteen demands, which were
immediately taken into consideration, and the Rump successively voted,
in compliance therewith, that a form of government should be passed
calculated to preserve the liberties of the people, and that it should
contain no single person as Protector, nor House of Peers. They also
agreed that liberty of conscience should be allowed to all believers
in the Scriptures who held the doctrine of the Trinity, except Papists
and Prelatists. But one of these demands was for lands of inheritance
to be settled on Richard Cromwell to the value of ten thousand pounds
a year, and a pension on her Highness, his mother, of ten thousand
pounds a year. On this it was remarked that Richard was still occupying
Whitehall as if he were Protector, and they made it conditional that
he should remove thence. They proposed that if he retired from the
Protectorate, they would grant him twenty-nine thousand pounds for the
discharge of his debts, two thousand pounds for present necessities,
and ten thousand pounds to him and his heirs. Richard cheerfully signed
a formal abdication in May, 1659, but his pension was never paid.
After the Restoration he fled to the Continent, where he remained
for twenty years. He returned in 1680, and lived peaceably on his
estate at Cheshunt, or at Mardon, in Hursley, near Winchester, which
he received with Dorothy Mayor, and there spent a jolly life in old
English state, dying in 1712. During his father's life, he is said in
convivial hours to have drunk the health of his father's landlord,
Charles Stuart; and he possessed a chest which contained the addresses
and congratulations, even the protestations of profound fidelity from
corporations, congregations, and almost all the public men, and on this
chest he would seat himself in his jocund hours, amongst his convivial
friends, and boast that he was sitting on the lives and fortunes of
most of the leading men of England. Henry Cromwell also passed his life
as a quiet country gentleman on his estate of Swinney, near Soham, in
Cambridgeshire, till his death in 1673. His government of Ireland was,
on his resigning, put into the hands of five commissioners, and the
command of the army was given to Ludlow.

Charles and his party abroad, watching the continual bickerings of
their enemies in England, put in motion all their machinery to create
confusion, and to seize the opportunity of taking every possible
means of procuring a revolt amongst them. Charles, to encourage his
partisans, announced his intention of coming to England to head them.
The 1st of August was fixed on for a rising, and Charles hastened into
Boulogne, to be ready to pass over into Wales or Cornwall. The Duke of
York was to lead over six hundred of the Prince of Condé's veterans,
and, crossing from Boulogne, land on the coast of Kent, whilst the Duke
of Gloucester was to proceed from Ostend with four thousand troops
under Marshal Marsin. Unfortunately for them, their plans had been
revealed to Thurloe by Sir Richard Willis, one of the king's sealed
knot of seven trusted confidants. Convinced by this treason that the
enterprise would fail, Charles sent circular letters to stop the
rising. But these in some instances arrived too late. Many appeared
in arms, and were fallen upon and routed or taken prisoners by the
Parliamentarians. Sir John Gore, the Lady Mary Howard, daughter of the
Earl of Berkshire, in addition to many other persons of distinction,
were arrested on charges of high treason. In Cheshire Sir George Booth
raised the royal standard, and took possession of Chester; but on
learning the news of the king's deferring the enterprise, and that
General Lambert was marching against them, he and his associates fled
to Nantwich, where Lambert overtook and totally routed them. Colonel
Morgan, with thirty of his men, fell on the field; the Earl of Derby
was taken disguised as a servant; Sir Thomas Middleton, who was eighty
years old, fled to Chirk Castle, but soon surrendered; and Booth
himself, disguised as a woman, and riding on a pillion, was betrayed
and taken on the road to London, near Newton Pagnell. This unlucky
outbreak and defeat threw the adherents of Charles abroad into despair.
Montague, the admiral, who had been won over, and had brought his fleet
to the mouth of the Thames to facilitate the passage of the king's
troops, pretended that he had come for provisions, and, though he was
suspected, he was allowed to return to his station. Charles himself,
now almost desperate, made a journey to Fuentarabia, where Mazarin and
Don Louis de Haro, the ministers of France and Spain, were engaged in
a treaty, in the hope that, if it were concluded, he might obtain some
support from them. But he was very coldly received; Mazarin would not
even see him. In fact, his fortunes were apparently at the lowest ebb,
but it was in reality only the dark hour before the dawn. The day of
his fortune was at hand.

Parliament, on Lambert's victory, voted him thanks and one thousand
pounds to purchase a jewel in memory of it; but Lambert distributed
the money amongst his soldiers. Parliament resenting this, regarded it
as intended to win the soldiers to his cause, that he might tread in
Cromwell's steps, and make himself Dictator. It was well known that he
had entertained hopes of being named his successor, and this suspicion
was immediately confirmed by his officers, whilst on their march
at Derby, signing a petition, and sending it up with a demand that
Fleetwood should be made permanently Commander-in-Chief, and Lambert
his lieutenant-general. No sooner did Haselrig see this petition,
than he denounced it as an attempt to overturn Parliament, and moved
the committal of Lambert and its author to the Tower. But Fleetwood
repelled the charge by assuring them that Lambert, who was already
in town when the petition was got up, knew nothing of it. The House,
however, ordered all copies of the paper to be destroyed, and voted
that any addition to the number of officers was needless, chargeable,
and dangerous. At the same time they proceeded to conciliate the
soldiers by advancing their pay, and, to discharge their arrears, on
the 5th of October they raised the monthly assessment from thirty-five
thousand pounds to one hundred thousand pounds.

Matters were, however, gone too far to be thus settled between
Parliament and the army. Haselrig, Scott, and their associates were
of that class of sanguine Republicans, who in their zeal think only
of the principles they wish to establish, without calculating how far
the country is prepared for them, and thus blindly rush on their own
defeat. The Wallingford House military council prepared another paper
called a petition, but which was a far more hostile communication,
asserting that whoever cast scandalous imputations on the army should
be brought to condign punishment. That was distinct enough, but
Haselrig and his party had got the adhesion of three regiments, and
relied on the promises of Monk in Scotland, and Ludlow in Ireland.
On the 11th of October a vote was passed, declaring it high treason
to levy any money on the people without consent of Parliament, and,
therefore, as the existing taxes expired on the first day of the new
year, Haselrig's following believed that they had thus rendered the
army wholly dependent on them. Next day Haselrig moved and carried a
motion that Desborough, Lambert, six colonels, and a major, should be
deprived of their commissions for signing the late petition. By another
vote Fleetwood was deprived of the office of Commander-in-chief, but
made president of a board of seven members, for the management of the
army. The blind zealots had witnessed to little purpose the history
of late years, and the movements of armies. On the next day Lambert,
with three thousand men, marched into Westminster, where he found the
Houses of Parliament guarded by two regiments of foot, and four troops
of horse. On his way he met Lenthall, the Speaker, attended by a guard.
He ordered that official to dismount, and on refusing, according to
Clarendon, pulled him from his horse, and sent him to his own house.
The soldiers, on the two parties meeting, at once coalesced, and the
Rump was again dismissed. The officers at Wallingford House took
upon themselves to annul Haselrig's votes of the last three days, and
establish a provisional Committee of Safety of twenty-three members.
There was a party amongst them for restoring Richard Cromwell, who came
up from Hampshire escorted by three troops of horse; but this party was
outvoted by a small majority, and he retired.

Whilst these confused changes were taking place--eddies in the national
affairs, but neither progress nor honour, Parliament having no power
to restrain the army, nor the army any one man of a genius capable
of controlling the rest,--there was at least one commander who was
silently and reservedly watching the course of events, resolved to
go with the strongest side, if such a side could be found. This was
General Monk. He was originally a Royalist, and of a strongly Royalist
family. His elder brother, with the rest of his relations, had always
been zealously devoted to the king, and it is said that his wife was
a most ardent advocate for the king's interest. These circumstances
had caused Charles frequently to sound him by his emissaries; but
though he received them courteously, and listened patiently to their
statements, he gave no outward evidence that he was likely to comply
with their entreaties. He was a man of deep and impenetrable secrecy
and caution, of few words, and a gloomy, unimpassioned manner.
Cromwell, during his life, was quite aware of the overtures and royal
promises made to Monk, but could not discover the slightest thing in
him to warrant a suspicion of his leaning in the smallest degree that
way, and he therefore contented himself with jocularly remarking to him
in a postscript in one of his letters, "'Tis said there is a cunning
fellow in Scotland, called George Monk, who lies in wait there to serve
Charles Stuart; pray use your diligence to take him, and send him up to
me."

There was not much likelihood of Monk swerving from the Commonwealth
while the strong man Cromwell lived, but now, amid such scenes of
weakness, he no doubt began to feel that the royal party would have to
be recalled. Such a presentiment, however, lay locked in his taciturn
breast. The officers sent Colonel Cobbet to Monk in Scotland, who,
however, expressed his firm adherence to the Commons, and when he heard
of what Lambert and the officers had done, he wrote strong letters to
them, complaining of the violence which they had done to the power and
authority of Parliament. He imprisoned Cobbet, and purging his army
of all who were fanatics or inclined to Lambert and his party, he
sent them under guard to the Border, and dismissed them into England,
under penalty of death if they returned. He immediately placed strong
garrisons in the castle of Edinburgh and in the citadel of Leith,
and, collecting cavalry, marched to Berwick, where he placed a strong
garrison. Letters were written to Lenthall in the name of himself and
his officers, assuring the Parliamentary party that "he called God to
witness that the asserting of the Commonwealth was the only interest
of his heart." Whilst Haselrig, Lenthall, and the rest were gratified
by these protestations, they remarked with wonder, and soon with deep
suspicion, that he had cashiered all those officers whom they had
introduced into his army, and restored those whom they had expelled.
There was no alternative, however, but to act with him and watch him.
In the meantime Monk had called a convention of the Scottish Estates
at Berwick, and informing them that "he had received a call from
heaven and earth to march into England for the better settling of the
Government there," he recommended the peace of the kingdom to their
care, and obtained from them a grant of sixty thousand pounds, from the
arrears of taxes. He then took up his headquarters at Coldstream, and
waited the course of events.

[Illustration: RICHARD CROMWELL. (_After the Portrait by Walker._)]

The Committee of Safety, on hearing of the movements of Monk,
despatched Lambert with an army of seven thousand men to meet him
on his march, and if he could not win him to co-operation with the
rest of the army, to resist his advance by force. But having seen
Lambert on his way northward, the committee sent directly to Monk a
deputation to endeavour to bring him over to their views, by offers
of many advantages. Monk received the deputation very courteously,
expressed every desire to unite with the rest of the army, provided
there were some ruling power to whom all parties might be subject, and
sent three commissioners to treat with the Committee of Safety on the
subject. This greatly encouraged the Committee of Safety, who thought
their sending Lambert against Monk had frightened him, and whilst they
prepared to receive Monk's commissioners, they ordered Lambert to
hasten on his march.

[Illustration: RECEPTION OF MONK IN THE CITY OF LONDON. (_See p._ 160.)]

But affairs nearer home were every day becoming more disheartening.
Haselrig and Morley had gone down to Portsmouth, where they were well
received by the governor, and were looked up to as representing the
authority of Parliament. Fleetwood sent down troops to oppose them,
but the troops themselves went over to them. This success encouraged
the apprentices and other dissatisfied persons in London to rise,
and demand the restoration of Parliament; and though Colonel Hewson
attacked and killed some of them, the spirit and the disturbance only
grew the stronger. To finish the matter, Admiral Lawson appeared with
the fleet in the Thames, and declared for the Parliament on the 17th
of December, and, as soon as they heard this, Haselrig and Morley
marched with their forces to London. At their approach the troops in
Westminster revolted from the Committee and joined them, declaring
that they would live and die with the Parliament. They received
those officers who had lately been dismissed, and all marched into
Lincoln's Inn Fields, and so to Chancery Lane, where they halted before
Lenthall's house, fired three volleys of musketry, and hailed him not
only Speaker of the Commons, but Lord-General of the army. This was on
Christmas Eve, and Desborough's regiment, which Lambert had sent back
to check these counter-movements, on hearing this news, at St. Albans,
also declared for the Parliament, and sent the Speaker word of the
adhesion. During all this reaction, Fleetwood had still sat with the
Committee of Safety, but exhibiting the strangest want of courage and
decision. When urged to go and use his influence with the soldiers, to
prevent their defection, he fell on his knees and prayed, or declared
that it was useless, that "God had spit in his face, and would not hear
him."

Whitelock relates that at this juncture he strongly advised Fleetwood
to join him and go away to the king, convinced that Monk was deceiving
the Parliament, and that the return of Charles was inevitable. He
said, therefore, that it was better to get away to him and make terms
for themselves and friends whilst the time allowed. Fleetwood was
convinced, and ordered Whitelock to prepare for the journey; but Vane,
Desborough, and Berry coming in, he quickly altered his mind, and
declared that he had pledged his word to Lambert before he marched
to do nothing of the kind without his consent. Whitelock repeated
that if he did not do it, then all was lost; but Fleetwood, weak but
honourable, replied he could not help it; his word was pledged: and in
the end he submitted himself to the Parliament.

Lenthall, the Speaker, at the head of a party of soldiers who
made themselves merry on their new Lord-General, went into the
City, informed the Lord Mayor and Aldermen that the Parliament was
assembling, and, on his own authority, ordered from the Tower the
governor and officers put there by the Committee of Safety, and placed
in command Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper, who had brought in Admiral
Lawson, assisted by several members of Parliament. On the 26th of
December the Rump met again in that House from which they had been
twice so ignominiously expelled. Their first proceeding was to annul
their act against the payment of excise and customs, so that they might
not be without money, and their next to dismiss Lambert, Desborough,
Berry, and other officers, and to order them to retire farther from
London; and they ordered Vane, who had adhered to the Committee of
Safety, to confine himself to his house at Raby. Thus they were
throwing down with their own hands the very bulwarks which should
prevent their falling helplessly into the power of Monk and his army.
Still more, they sent an order to Lambert's regiments to quit their
commander, and retire to such quarters as they appointed. The soldiers
having heard of their comrades in the south having gone over to the
Parliament, did not hesitate to obey its orders, and Lambert found
himself left alone with only about a hundred horse. At Northallerton
his officers took their leave of him with tears, and he retired quietly
to a house which he had in the country. Thus the expectation of a
sharp encounter between Monk and Lambert was at an end, and the road
was open to Monk to march to London without opposition.

He had received assurances from Lord Fairfax, that within twelve days
he would join him or perish in the attempt, and he forthwith called
together his friends, and demanded the surrender of York. On the 1st
of January, 1660, the gates of York were thrown open to Fairfax and
his followers, and the same day Monk commenced his march southward
from Coldstream. Monk remained five days at York in consultation with
Fairfax, who did not hesitate to avow his readiness to assist in the
restoration of the king. Clarendon tells us that Charles had sent Sir
Horatio Townsend to Fairfax, expressing confident hopes of Monk, and
requesting him to co-operate with him; and that Parliament had become
so apprehensive of him that before his arrival at York they wrote to
him, advising him to send back part of his forces, as being needless
now in England, while they might prevent danger in Scotland. Monk paid
no attention, and the Parliament began to wish him back in Scotland
altogether. But it does not appear that Monk in any way committed
himself to Fairfax by his words, whatever his conduct might indicate.
On the contrary, at York he caned an officer who charged him with a
design of bringing in Charles Stuart. On his quitting York Fairfax
disbanded his forces, and Monk pursued his march in the same mysterious
silence. Parliament had appointed a Council of State, and framed the
oath for its members to embrace a most stringent abjuration of royalty
and of the Stuart family. The soldiers sympathising with Parliament,
the officers on reaching Nottingham proposed signing an engagement
to obey Parliament in all things except the bringing in of Charles
Stuart. Monk declared this unnecessary, Parliament having expressed
itself so strongly on that head; and at Leicester he wrote a reply to
certain Royalist petitioners in Devonshire, stating his confidence that
monarchy could not be reintroduced, that the excluded members of 1648
could not be safely reinstated, and that it was their bounden duty to
obey and support the present Government.

At Leicester arrived two of the most democratic members of Parliament,
Scott and Robinson, to watch his proceedings, but ostensibly to do him
honour. He received them with all respect, and such was his apparent
devotion to Parliament, that they were thoroughly satisfied and highly
delighted. At every place he was met by addresses from towns and
counties, praying him to restore the excluded members, and procure a
full and free Parliament. He replied on all occasions that he was but
the servant of Parliament in a military capacity, and referred the
applicants to the two deputies for their answers. These gentlemen,
who were vehemently opposed to any such restoration of the excluded
members, gave very free denials, with which Monk did not in any way
interfere.

This conduct, we are assured by Clarendon, extremely confounded
Charles and his partisans, who had calculated greatly on Monk's secret
inclinations, but the dispersal of Lambert's forces, the retirement
of Fairfax, and the vigorous adherence of Monk to Parliament, puzzled
and depressed them. It might have been supposed that though Monk
had so impenetrably concealed his designs from the adherents of
the Commonwealth, that he had a secret understanding with Charles.
Clarendon, who was fully in the king's confidence, and his great
adviser, solemnly assures us that there was nothing of the kind; that
all attempts to arrive at his purpose had been unavailing. By the
consent of Charles, Monk's brother, a clergyman in Devonshire, had
been induced by Sir Hugh Pollard and Sir John Grenville, the king's
agents, to visit the general in the north, and endeavour to persuade
him to declare for the king. But Monk took him up very shortly, and
advised him to go home and come no more to him with such propositions.
To the last moment this secret and solemn man kept the same immovable,
impenetrable course. There is little doubt but that he felt, from
the miserable weakness and disunion of both the officers and the
Parliamentary leaders, the great all-controlling mind being gone,
that the king must come again, and that he was ready to do the work
at the safe moment. But that till he was positively certain the way
was clear of every obstacle, no power on earth should move him. It is
probable that he was indifferent to the fact whether the king or the
Parliament ruled, but that he would decide for the stronger when it was
unmistakably the stronger, and not till then.

To prevent alarm to the Parliament, he brought only five thousand
troops with him from York, being much fewer than those which were
quartered in London and Westminster; but from St. Albans on the 28th of
January he wrote to the Speaker, requesting that five of the regiments
there might be removed to other quarters before his arrival, lest there
should arise strife between his soldiers and those so lately engaged
in rebellion against the Parliament. This startled the Parliament,
and dull must those members have been who did not perceive that they
committed a series of gross blunders in destroying the greater part of
the army, and disbanding their best officers, to clear the stage for a
new master. But there was nothing for it but complying. They ordered
the regiments to remove, but they refused. Why, they asked, were they
to quit their quarters to make room for strangers? Was it expected
that they should march away with several weeks' pay in arrear? But
their officers, who should have supported them, were dismissed or under
restraint, and by coaxing and the distribution of some money, they were
induced to go. The greatest difficulty was found with a regiment which
occupied Somerset House, and declared they would hold it as a garrison
and defend it. But at length they, too, were persuaded to retire, and
the next day, the 3rd of February, Monk marched through the City into
the Strand and Westminster, where his soldiers were quartered, and
himself conducted to Whitehall.

Soon after his arrival Monk, was led to the House of Commons, where
a chair was placed for him within the bar, and Lenthall made him an
address, applauding his wisdom and services to the Commonwealth,
declaring his dispersal of their enemies as a glorious mercy, and
returning him thanks. Monk replied, observing that there were demands
for a full and free Parliament, but that while it was as well not
to impose too many oaths, care must be taken to keep out both the
Cavaliers and the fanatic party. Of course, the section of the fanatic
party already in the House, with Scott and Haselrig at their head,
heard this with resentment; and Monk's sincerity was immediately put
to the test by the oath of abjuration of the Stuarts, as a member of
the Council of State, being put to him. He parried this, by observing
that seven of the councillors already sitting had not taken the oath,
and that as for himself, he had given sufficient proofs of his devotion
to Parliament. This increased the suspicion against him, and a more
explicit proof of his sincerity was put upon him. The Common Council of
London had refused to raise money in the City except at the order of a
full and free Parliament. The House, therefore, commanded Monk to march
into the City to seize ten of the leading opponents in the Council, and
to break down the gates and portcullises of the City.

On the 9th of February, two hours after midnight, he received this
trying order. If he refused, his commission would be immediately
withdrawn, and his plans cut short; therefore he obeyed, and marching
into the City, began with all coolness and imperturbability to remove
the posts and chains from the streets. The citizens, who expected
different conduct from him, and entreated him to desist, assailed
his men during their labour with groans and hisses. The posts and
chains removed, Monk wrote to the Parliament that he considered that
sufficient had been done to crush the spirit of the citizens, but he
received a peremptory order to complete the business, which he did by
destroying the gates and portcullises, though the soldiers themselves
expressed their indignation. He then returned in no agreeable mood to
Whitehall. There, however, news awaited him of conduct on the part
of Parliament, which seemed to him to show that they now thought
that they had made him their pliant instrument, and destroyed at the
same time his popularity with the people. Whilst he had been doing
this ungracious work in the City, they had been receiving with high
approbation a petition from the so-called fanatic or extreme party,
headed by the celebrated Barebone, praying that no man might sit in
Parliament, or hold any office under Government, who did not take
the oath to abjure Charles Stuart, or any single person. This was so
plainly aimed at Monk, who had excused himself from this oath, that a
council of his officers was at once called, whose resentment of this
ungrateful conduct was expressed in a letter drawn up in his name,
and despatched to the House the next morning, complaining bitterly of
their allowing this attack upon him, and advising that they should take
immediate measures for filling up all the vacancies in Parliament, as
the only measure which would satisfy the people. To show that this was
not a mere admonition but a command, he instantly quitted Whitehall,
marched back into the City, summoned again the Common Council, which he
had dispersed, and assured them that the conduct of Parliament had now
convinced him that they were betraying the interests of the country,
that he was sorry he had obeyed them so far as to do injury to "that
famous city, which in all ages had been the bulwark of Parliament and
of general liberty;" and that therefore he had determined to unite his
lot with theirs, and to obtain through them a full and free Parliament.

This announcement was received not only with astonishment, but with
enthusiastic expressions of joy. The Lord Mayor and Council plighted
their troth with him and the officers, he was invited to dine at
the Guildhall, and all the bells in the City were set ringing in
exultation. The Corporation attended the general to his lodgings amid
the acclamations and the bonfires of the people, at which they roasted
rumps in ridicule of the Parliament, and heaped on it every infamy
which wit and ribaldry could devise. This _coup d'état_ awoke the
Parliament to their blunder; they had made an enemy of the very man and
army into whose hands they had put a power which could instantly crush
them. There were some zealots, the Haselrigs and Scotts, who advised
restoring Fleetwood to the chief command, and bringing back the exiled
regiments; but Sunday, which intervened, enabled the more sober counsel
to prevail, and they sent a deputation to invite the general to return
to Whitehall, and promised that the writs for the excluded members
should be ready by the day appointed. But these incidents had made an
advance in Monk's proceedings. He had seen, as he came up the country,
the universal demand for the restoration of the Long Parliament, and
the unmitigated contempt for the present one. He had felt the pulse
of the country also as to the return of the king, and his intercourse
with the City had only confirmed the impression that the whole body
of excluded members must come back as a stepping-stone to the recall
of Charles. The Presbyterian interest in the City was as strong as
ever, and its enmity to the Independents unabated. He therefore called
together his officers to discuss with the deputation the points at
issue, and the officers insisted that the excluded members must be
restored. Monk then placed the City in a state of defence, and returned
to Whitehall. There he summoned the excluded members who were in town,
together with the members of the sitting Parliament, and read them a
paper, in which he assured them that the people at large demanded a
full and free Parliament, as the only means of settling these "bleeding
nations." He declared that he would impose no restrictions on them
himself, but that his guards should freely admit all the excluded as
well as the other members, to take measures for a dissolution of the
present Parliament, and the calling of a new one, full and free, on
the 20th of April next. He did not believe, he said, that monarchy
or prelacy would be tolerated by the people, but that a moderate
Presbyterian government, with liberty of conscience, appeared most
likely to be acceptable. And as to the Peers, if it were not proper to
restore to them their House, yet he thought their hereditary marks of
honour should be left them.

This speech confounded Royalists and Extremists alike. He recommended
a Presbyterian government and the exclusion of monarchy; but he saw
well enough what the effect of his measure would be; the Royalist
excluded members would rush in, and the recall of the king would be
the inevitable consequence. Accordingly the excluded members proceeded
directly to the House with the other members. The guard under Sir
Anthony Ashley Cooper opened and admitted them. At this sight Haselrig,
Scott, and the Republican party thought it high time to consult their
own security, and disappeared from the scene. The House at once set to
work; annulled all the orders by which they had been excluded; elected
a new Council of State, in which the most influential members were
Royalists; appointed Monk Commander-in-Chief, and Commander of the
Fleet in conjunction with Montague; granted him twenty thousand pounds
in lieu of Hampton Court, which the Rump had settled on him; freed from
sequestration Sir George Booth and his associates, who had risen for
the king, together with a great number of Cavaliers and Scottish lords
taken at the Battle of Worcester; borrowed sixty thousand pounds of the
Common Council, established for the present the Presbyterian confession
of faith; ordered copies of the Solemn League and Covenant to be hung
up in all churches; placed the militia and all the chief commands in
the hands of the principal nobility and gentry; and only stipulated
that no person should be capable of office or command who did not
subscribe to the confession--"that the war raised by the two Houses of
Parliament against the late king was just and lawful, until such time
as force and violence were used upon the Parliament in the year 1648."

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE PAINTED CHAMBER, WESTMINSTER, LOOKING
EAST.]

But at this point it was contended by the Royalists that the House
of Lords was as much a House as themselves, and that they could not
legally summon a new Parliament without them; but Monk would listen to
nothing of this kind. He declared that as much had been conceded as the
country would bear; and the Parliament was compelled to dissolve itself
at the time fixed.

There could certainly be no longer any uncertainty as to whither things
were tending. The Royalists were again in full power all over the
kingdom, the very insurgents in the cause of Charles were liberated,
freed from all penalties, and in many cases advanced to places of
trust; yet Monk still dissembled. Ludlow, a staunch Republican, on the
re-admission of the excluded members, went to Monk to sound him as to
his intentions, and urged the necessity of supporting the Commonwealth,
which had cost them so much. Monk replied with solemn hypocrisy, "Yea,
we must live and die together for a Commonwealth." Yet Monk had now
made up his mind: he saw that all was prepared, all perfectly safe,
and during the recess he was busy arranging with the king's agents
for his return. Immediately on Monk's joyful reception by the City, a
Mr. Baillie, who had gone through Cheapside amongst the bonfires, and
heard the king's health drunk in various places, and people talking of
sending for the king, had posted off to Brussels, where Charles was. On
this Sir John Grenville and a Mr. Morrice, a Devonshire Royalist, were
instantly sent over to Monk, with propositions for the king's return.
Clarendon assures us that so early as the beginning of April these
gentlemen were in London, and in consultation with Monk, who told them
that if the king would write a letter to Parliament containing the same
statements, he would find a fit time to deliver it, or some other means
to serve his Majesty; but that Charles must quit Flanders to give his
partisans confidence that he was out of the power of the Spaniards, and
would be free to act on their call; that he must go to Breda, and date
his papers thence.

All this was done, and so little secrecy was observed by the Royalists
on the Continent, that it was immediately known at all the courts
that the king was about to be recalled, and Spaniards, Dutch, French
princes and ministers, who had treated Charles with the utmost neglect
and contempt, now overwhelmed him with compliments, invitations,
flatteries, and offers. The Dutch Court, where was his sister, the
mother of the young Stadtholder, had been as discourteous as the rest,
but they now united in receiving him and doing him honour. Breda
already swarmed with English Royalists, who flocked from every quarter
to pay their respects.

This was observed in England with a complacency which sufficiently
indicated that men's minds were made up to the restoration of the
monarchy. The ultra-Republican party alone, whose zeal never
condescended to measure the chances against them, endeavoured to
raise the soldiers to oppose the menaced catastrophe. The army had
on former occasions maintained the Commonwealth. The emissaries of
the Republicans, therefore, spread themselves everywhere amongst the
soldiers, warning them of the certainty of all their sacrifices,
their labours, and their victories being in vain if they did not once
more save the State. The old fire revived; the soldiers contemplated
the loss of their arrears if the Royalists came into power, the
officers the loss of their lands and their commands. They began
to express vehement discontent, and the officers flocked into the
capital and called on Monk to take measures for the maintenance of the
Commonwealth. He professed to be bound to that object, though he had
at the time in his pocket a commission from Charles constituting him
Lord-General of all the military in the three kingdoms. He ordered the
officers to return to their posts, and put an oath of obedience to the
Parliament to the privates--all who refused it being discharged.

Disappointed in this quarter, the Republicans managed to effect the
escape of Lambert, who had been committed to the Tower, and who now
appeared in Warwickshire, where he induced six troops of horse and some
infantry to accept his command. On the approach of General Ingoldsby,
however, who was sent against him, his troops deserted him, he was
captured, and conducted back to the Tower with every indignity.

On the 25th of April the new Parliament assembled; the Royalists showed
a decided majority, and though the Presbyterian party managed to carry
the election of Sir Harbottle Grimstone as Speaker, the Royalist
tendency was overwhelming as to the main objects. Ten of the Peers
assembled in their House, and elected the Earl of Manchester Speaker,
and on beholding this the rest of the Peers hurried up to town, and
soon there appeared a full House, excepting such Peers as had served in
the king's Parliament at Oxford, or whose patents dated subsequently to
the commencement of the civil war.

But all the interest was concentrated on the proceedings of the House
of Commons. On the 1st of May Sir John Grenville presented himself at
the door of the House, and requested to speak with the Lord-General.
Monk went to him, and received, as a matter of which he knew nothing,
a letter addressed to the Speaker. Looking at the seal, and affecting
to discover that it bore the royal arms, he ordered the guards to take
care that the bearer did not escape. Grenville was speedily called
in, and asked how he became possessed of this letter, and on replying
that he brought it from the king, he was ordered into custody as a
traitor. But here Monk interfered, saying that this was unnecessary;
he perceived that he was a kinsman of his, and would be security for
him. The letters were now opened, and proved to be really from the
king, one addressed to the Commons, another to the Lords, a third to
the Lord Mayor and Corporation, and the fourth to Monk and Montague,
lord-admirals. In the letter to the Commons Charles informed them that,
in the present unhappy circumstances of the nation, he recommended them
to consider whether the only way to restore peace and prosperity was
not to return to the ancient and time-honoured constitution of king,
Lords, and Commons, under whom the kingdom had flourished so many ages.
He professed that no man had a more profound veneration for Parliament
and its rights than himself, and that to convince them of it, he had
endorsed a declaration of his views, in which he had left everything to
their settlement.

This paper was the celebrated Declaration of Breda, to which the people
afterwards so often called Charles's attention, and which he took the
earliest opportunity to forget, and falsify by a return to all the
Stuart despotisms, oppressions, and persecutions. In this paper he
granted a free pardon to all who should accept it within forty days;
the confirmation of all estates and titles, and in religion "liberty
to tender consciences, and that no man should be disturbed or called
in question in any way regarding religion." But these promises "on the
word of a king" were rendered perfectly nugatory, by excepting such
persons and such measures as Parliament should in its wisdom see fit to
determine otherwise. This specious declaration, which had been drawn
up by Hyde, Ormond, and Nicholas, in fact secured nothing, for once in
power, a servile Parliament might undo everything, as it eventually
did. Prynne, who was in the House, pointed all this out, and warned
them that Charles had been too long under the counsels of his mother,
and too long in France and in Flanders--"the most Jesuited place in the
world"--to be in religion anything better than a Papist; that at best
he would be found only a Prelatist, and that his word had already been
proved, on various occasions, of no more value than his father's. The
Royalists, he said, would never cease instilling into him that the
Presbyterian religion, now the religion of the nation, had destroyed
his great-grandmother, tormented his grandfather, and put to death his
father; and that as certain as there was a restoration, there would be
a destruction of all the liberties of England, civil and religious.
The pious Sir Matthew Hale urged on them the necessity of some better
guarantee than this declaration of constitutional rights before they
readmitted the king.

But all warning was lost on the House: the crisis was come, Parliament
and nation seemed smitten with a sudden oblivion of their past miseries
and oppressions under the Stuarts, and every branch of the community
seemed impatient to be the first to put its neck once more under
their yoke, and under the foot of the most debauched, unprincipled,
and scandalous member which the family had ever seen. Instead of
sending Grenville to the Tower, the Commons voted him thanks and a
present of five hundred pounds. The Speaker, in communicating these
votes to Grenville, launched into the most extravagant terms of joy
on the prospect "of having their king again." The Commons drew up
a most glowing letter to his Majesty, in which they declared their
thankfulness to God for putting the thoughts of returning into the
king's mind, "to make him glorious in the eyes of his people;"
protesting that "the persons of their kings had always been dear unto
Parliaments," and that they "could not bear to think of that horrid
act committed against the precious life of their late king," and so
forth. They not only delivered this letter to Sir John Grenville, but
appointed twelve of their members to wait on his Majesty at the Hague.
The London Corporation were as enthusiastic and as profuse of their
proffered devotion; they presented Grenville with three hundred pounds,
also appointed some of their members to wait on the king, made haste to
erect the royal statue in Guildhall, and to pull down the arms of the
Commonwealth.

[Illustration: LANDING OF CHARLES II. AT DOVER. (_See p._ 165.)]

Montague had long been prepared to go over to the king on the first
opportunity; and lest he might seem to be sent by the Parliament, and
not by his own voluntary act, he set sail for the coast of Holland,
leaving Lawson to bring over the deputations going to his Majesty.
He lay to at Scheveling, and sent word to the king that his fleet
was at his command. The Duke of York, whom Charles had made admiral,
went on board, and was received with all respect and submission. Soon
after came up the other ships with six members of the Peers, twelve
of the Commons, fourteen from the City of London, and eight or ten
of the most popular ministers in London of the Presbyterian party,
including Reynolds, Calamy, Case, and Marten. These gentlemen entered
zealously on the hopeless task of endeavouring to persuade Charles
to leave their form of worship in the ascendant, and to abstain from
the use of the Common Prayer Book and the surplices; but they got no
further satisfaction than that he would leave all that to the wisdom
of Parliament. On the 24th of May he embarked at Scheveling, in the
_Naseby_, which the day before had been rechristened the _Royal
Charles_, the rest of the ships at the same time having doffed their
republican appellations of unpleasant memory, and assumed right royal
ones. On the 26th he landed at Dover, where, amid the thunder of
cannon, he was received by Monk at the head of a splendid assemblage
of the nobility and gentry. From Dover to Canterbury, and thence to
London, the journey was one triumphant procession. The crowds of gentry
and of shouting people presented only the aspect of a most loyal
nation, amongst whom it was hard to imagine that such a thing as a
Commonwealth had ever existed. On Blackheath Charles was received by
the army with acclamations. The Lord Mayor and Corporation invited him
to a splendid collation in a tent prepared for the purpose. All the way
to Whitehall, attended by the chief nobility and by his Life Guards,
and several regiments of cavalry, the houses being hung with tapestry,
and the windows crowded with applauding men and women, the king riding
between his two brothers, beheld nothing but an enthusiastic people.
When he dismissed the last of his congratulators from the hall where
his father perished, he turned to one of his confidants and said, "It
surely must have been my own fault that I did not come before, for I
have met no one to-day who did not protest that he always wished for my
restoration."

CHAPTER VI.

THE PROGRESS OF THE NATION UNDER JAMES I., CHARLES I., AND THE
COMMONWEALTH.

In the reigns of James and Charles England neither maintained the
reputation of her navy acquired under Henry VIII. and Elizabeth, nor
made great progress in foreign commerce. The character of James was too
timid for maritime or any other war, and when he was forced into action
it was only to show his weakness. He put to death the greatest naval
captain of his time, Raleigh, who, if well employed by him, might have
made him as much respected at sea as was Elizabeth. Nevertheless, he
built ten ships of war, and for some years spent thirty-six thousand
pounds annually on the navy. The largest ship which had yet been built
in England was built by him, but it was only of fourteen hundred tons.
As for commerce, he was too much engaged in theological disputations,
in persecution of Papists, in wrangling with his Parliaments, and
in following his hawks and hounds, to think of it, and consequently
grievous complaints of the decay of trade were heard every session. The
Dutch were fast engrossing both the commerce and the carrying trade of
England. During James's reign they traded to England with six hundred
ships, and the English traded to Holland with sixty.

The naval affairs of Charles were quite as inglorious as those
of his father. As James beheaded the best admiral of England, so
Charles chose for his the very worst in Europe, and the disgrace
of Buckingham's expedition to the Isle of Rhé was the consequence.
Charles's contests with his Parliaments, which terminated only with his
life, destroyed all chance of his promotion of naval ascendency, and
of the cultivation of commerce. All this was wonderfully changed by
the vigorous spirits of the Commonwealth. The victories of Blake, by
which the naval greatness of Holland and Spain was almost annihilated,
raised the reputation of the British arms at sea as well as on land
to the first place in the civilised world. St. John was no sooner
despatched by Parliament to the Hague as ambassador, than, perceiving
the immense advantage which Holland obtained from being the great
carriers of Europe, he drew and got passed the celebrated Navigation
Act, which--providing that no produce of Africa, Asia, or America, nor
of any English colony should be imported into England except in English
ships, and that the manufactures or merchandise of no country in Europe
should be imported except in English ships, or the ships of the nation
where they were produced--at once transferred an enormous maritime
business to England.

Sir Walter Raleigh, in a treatise on the comparative commerce of
England and Holland, endeavoured to draw the attention of James I. to
the vast benefits that the Dutch were obtaining from our neglect. He
showed that whenever there was a time of scarcity in England, instead
of sending out our ships and supplying ourselves, we allowed the Dutch
to pour in goods, and reap the advantage of the high prices; and
he declared that in a year and a half they had taken from Bristol,
Southampton, and Exeter alone, two hundred thousand pounds, which our
merchants might as well have had. He reminded the king that the most
productive fisheries in the world were on the British coasts, yet that
the Dutch and people of the Hanse Towns came and supplied all Europe
with their fish to the amount of two million pounds annually, whilst
the English could scarcely be said to have any trade at all in it. The
Dutch, he said, sent yearly a thousand ships laden with wine and salt,
obtained in France and Spain, to the north of Europe, whilst we, with
superior advantages, sent none. He pointed out equally striking facts
of their enterprise in the timber trade, having no timber themselves;
that our trade with Russia, which used to employ a large number of
ships, had fallen off to almost nothing, whilst that of the Dutch had
marvellously increased. What, he observed, was still more lamentable,
we allowed them to draw the chief profit and credit even from our own
manufactures, for we sent our woollen goods, to the amount of eighty
thousand pieces, abroad undyed, and the Dutch and others dyed them
and reshipped them to Spain, Portugal, and other countries as Flemish
baizes, besides netting a profit of four hundred thousand pounds
annually at our expense. Had James attended to the wise suggestions
of Raleigh, instead of destroying him, and listening to such minions
as Rochester and Buckingham, our commerce would have shown a very
different aspect.

It is true that some years afterwards James tried to secure the
profit pointed out by Raleigh from dyed cloths; but instead of
first encouraging the dyeing of such cloths here, so as to enable
the merchants to carry them to the markets in the South on equal or
superior terms to the Dutch, he suddenly passed an Act prohibiting the
export of any undyed cloths. This the Dutch met by an Act prohibiting
the import of any dyed cloths into Holland; and the English not
producing an equal dye to the Dutch, thus lost both markets, to the
great confusion of trade; and this mischief was only gradually overcome
by our merchants beginning to dye their yarn, so as to have no undyed
cloth to export, and by improving their dyes.

During the reign of James commercial enterprise showed itself in the
exertions of various chartered companies trading to distant parts
of the world. The East India Company was established in the reign
of Elizabeth, the first charter being granted by her in 1600. James
was wise enough to renew it, and it went on with various success,
ultimately so little in his time that at his death it was still a
doubtful speculation; but under such a monarch it could not hope for
real encouragement. In its very commencement he granted a charter to
a rival company to trade to China, Japan, and other countries in the
Indian seas, in direct violation of the East India Company's charter,
which so disgusted that Company, as nearly to have caused them to
relinquish their aim. In 1614 they obtained a charter from the Great
Mogul to establish a factory at Surat, and the same year they obtained
a similar charter from the Emperor of Japan. In 1615 Sir Thomas Roe
went as ambassador from England to the Great Mogul, and resided at
his court for four years. By this time the Company had extensively
spread its settlements. It had factories at Acheen, Zambee, and Tekoa,
in Sumatra; at Surat, Ahmedabad, Agra, Ajmere, and Burampore in the
Mogul's territories; at Firando, in Japan; at Bantam, Batavia, and
Japara, in Java; and others in Borneo, the Banda Isles, Malacca, Siam,
and Celebes; and at Masulipatam and Petapoli, on the Coromandel coast;
and at Calicut, the original settlement of the Portuguese on the
coast of Malabar. Their affairs were, in fact, extremely flourishing,
and their stock sold at 203 per cent.; but this prosperity awoke the
jealousy of the Dutch, who carried on a most profitable trade with Java
and the Spice Islands, and, in spite of a treaty concluded between the
two nations in 1619, the Dutch Governor-General attacked and took from
the Company the island of Pulo Rangoon. This was only the beginning of
their envious malice, for in 1623 they committed the notorious massacre
of the English Company at Amboyna, and drove the English out of all
the Spice Islands. Had this occurred in Cromwell's days, they would
soon have paid a severe retribution; but James was just then anxious to
secure the aid of the Dutch in restoring his son-in-law, the Elector
Palatine, and these atrocities were quietly smoothed over, and left
unavenged. The consequence was, that the affairs of the Company fell
into a most depressed condition, and though in 1616, when their stock
was worth 200 per cent., they had raised a new stock of one million
six hundred and twenty-nine thousand and forty pounds, which was taken
by nine hundred and fifty-four individuals, principally of the higher
aristocracy, at the close of James's reign the stock had fallen to half
its value.

Charles was not a more far-sighted or a juster patron of the India
Company than his father. In 1631 they managed to raise a new stock
of four hundred and twenty thousand pounds, but whilst they were
struggling with the hostilities of their rivals, the Dutch and
Portuguese, the king perpetrated precisely the same injury on them that
his father had done, by granting a charter to another company, which
embroiled them with the Mogul and the Chinese, causing the English to
be entirely expelled from China, and injuring the India Company to a
vast extent. The Civil War in England then prevented the attention
of the Government from being directed to the affairs of this great
Company. At the end of Charles's reign the Company's affairs were at
the worst, and its trade appeared extinct. In 1649, however, Parliament
encouraged the raising of new stock, which was done with extreme
difficulty, and only amounted to one hundred and ninety-two thousand
pounds. But in 1654, Parliament having humbled the Dutch, compelled
them to pay a balance of damages of eighty-five thousand pounds and
three thousand six hundred pounds to the heirs of the murdered men at
Amboyna. It required years, however, to revive the prosperity of the
Company, and it was only in 1657 that, obtaining a new charter from
the Protector, and raising a new stock of three hundred and seventy
thousand pounds, it sprang again into vigour and traded successfully
till the Restoration.

During this period, too, the Incorporated Companies--Turkey Merchants,
or the Levant Company; the Company of Merchant Adventurers, trading to
Holland and Germany; the Muscovy Company, trading to Russia and the
North, where they prosecuted also the whale fishery--were in active
operation, besides a great general trade with Spain, Portugal, and
other countries. The Turkey Merchants carried to the Mediterranean
English cloths, lead, tin, spices, indigo, calicoes, and other Indian
produce brought home by the East India Company; and they imported
thence the raw silks of Persia and Syria, galls from Aleppo, cotton and
cotton yarn from Cyprus and Smyrna; drugs, oils, and camlets, grograms,
and mohairs of Angora. In 1652 we find coffee first introduced from
Turkey, and a coffee-house set up in Cornhill. On the breaking out of
the Civil War, the Muscovy Company were deprived of their charter by
the Czar, because they took part with the Parliament against their
king, and the Dutch adroitly came in for the trade.

These great monopolies of foreign trade were supposed to be necessary
to stimulate and protect commerce; but the system of domestic
monopolies which were most destructive to enterprise at home, and which
had arrived at such a height under Elizabeth, was continued by both
James and Charles to the last, notwithstanding the constant outcries
against them, and their being compelled, ever and anon, by public
spirit to make temporary concessions.

The commerce of England was now beginning to receive a sensible
increase by the colonies which she had established in America and the
West Indies. One of the earliest measures of James was the founding of
two chartered companies to settle on the coasts of North America. One,
called the London Adventurers, or South Virginia Company, was empowered
to plant the coast from the 34th to the 41st degree of north latitude,
which now includes Maryland, Virginia, and North and South Carolina.
The other, the company of Plymouth Adventurers, was authorised to
plant all from the 41st degree to the 45th, which now includes the
States of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, and New England. In 1612
a settlement was made in Bermuda. The State of New England was founded
by the planting of New Plymouth in 1620, and about the same time the
French were driven out of Nova Scotia, and the island of Barbadoes
was taken possession of; and within a few years various other West
India islands were secured and planted. James granted all the Caribbee
Isles to James Hay, Earl of Carlisle, and the grant was confirmed by
Charles, who also granted to Robert Heath and his heirs the Bahama
Isles and the vast territory of Carolina, including the present North
and South Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, and the south of Louisiana. In
1632 Charles granted the present Maryland to Lord Baltimore, a Catholic
(the charter being also renewed in favour of Cecil, the second Lord
Baltimore), which became the refuge of the persecuted Catholics in
England, as the New England States did of the Puritans.

These immense territories were gradually peopled by the victims of
crime. According as the storm of religious persecution raged against
the Catholics, the Puritans, or the Episcopalians and Royalists, they
got away to New England, Maryland, or Virginia. By degrees the Indians
were driven back, and cotton, tobacco, and (in the West Indies) the
sugar cane became objects of cultivation. James abominated tobacco, and
published his "Counterblast" against it, laying various restrictions
upon its growth; but as the high duties imposed upon it proved very
profitable to the revenue, gradually these restrictions were relaxed,
and cultivation of it at home was prohibited in favour of the Colonies.
The Dutch had managed, under James and Charles, to engross the carrying
trade to the English American and West Indian colonies, having a strong
position at New Amsterdam, afterwards known as New York; but of this
Parliament deprived them in 1646, and extended, as we have seen, the
famous Navigation Act of 1651 to all the foreign trade of England. In
1655 Cromwell's conquest of Jamaica completed English power in the West
Indies.

The growth of English commerce was soon conspicuous by one great
result, the growth of London. It was in vain that both James and
Charles issued repeated proclamations to prohibit fresh building
of houses, and to order the nobility and gentry to live more on
their estates in the country, and not in London, in habits of such
extravagance, and drawing together so much loose company after them.
From the union of the crowns of Scotland and England, this rapid
increase of the metropolis, so alarming to those kings, was more
than ever visible. When James came to the throne in 1603, London and
Westminster were a mile apart, but the Strand was quickly populated
by the crowds of Scots who followed the Court; and though St.
Giles's-in-the-Fields was then a distinct town, standing in the open
country, with a very deep and dirty lane, called Drury Lane, running
from it to the Strand, before the Civil War it had become united to
London and Westminster by new erections in Clare Market, Long Acre,
Bedfordbury, and the adjoining neighbourhood. Anderson in his "History
of Commerce," gives us some curious insight into this part of London
at that period. "The very names of the older streets about Covent
Garden," he observes, "are taken from the Royal family at this time,
or in the reign of Charles II., as Catherine Street, Duke Street, York
Street. Of James and Charles I.'s time, James Street, Charles Street,
Henrietta Street, etc., all laid out by the great architect, Inigo
Jones, as was also the fine piazza there, although that part where
stood the house and gardens of the Duke of Bedford is of much later
date, namely, in the reigns of King William and Queen Anne. Bloomsbury,
and the streets at the Seven Dials, were built up somewhat later, as
also Leicester Fields, since the restoration of Charles II., as also
almost all of St. James's and St. Anne's parishes, and a great part
of St. Martin's and St. Giles's. I have met with several old persons
in my younger days who remembered that there was but a single house,
a cake-house, between the Mews-gate at Charing Cross and St. James's
Palace Gate, where now stand the stately piles of St. James's Square,
Pall Mall, and other fine streets. They also remembered the west side
of St. Martin's Lane to have been a quickset hedge; yet High Holborn
and Drury Lane were filled with noblemen's and gentlemen's houses and
gardens almost a hundred and fifty years ago. Those five streets of the
south side of the Strand, running down to the river Thames, have all
been built since the beginning of the seventeenth century, upon the
sites of noblemen's houses and gardens, who removed farther westward,
as their names denote. Even some parts within the bars of the City of
London remained unbuilt within about a hundred and fifty years past,
particularly all the ground between Shoe Lane and Fewters, now Fetter,
Lane, so called, says Howell in his 'Londonopolis,' from Fewters, an
old appellation of idle people, loitering there, as in a way leading
to gardens; which, in Charles I.'s reign, and even some of them since,
have been built up into streets, lanes, etc. Several other parts of the
City have been rendered more populous by the removal of the nobility to
Westminster, on the sites of whose former spacious houses and gardens,
whole streets, lanes, and courts have been added to the City since the
death of Queen Elizabeth."

[Illustration: CECIL, SECOND LORD BALTIMORE.]

The extension of the metropolis necessitated the introduction of
hackney coaches, which first began to ply, but only twelve in number,
in 1625. In 1634 sedan-chairs were introduced to relieve the streets of
the rapidly increased number of hackney-coaches, and other carriages;
and in 1635 a post-office for the kingdom was established, a foreign
post having been for some years in existence. In 1653 the post was
farmed for ten thousand pounds a year.

The annual revenue of James I. has been calculated at about six
hundred thousand pounds, yet he was always poor, and died leaving
debts to the amount of three hundred thousand pounds. He was prodigal
to his favourites, and wasteful in his habits. He left the estates of
the Crown, however, better than he found them, having raised their
annual income from thirty-two thousand pounds to eighty thousand
pounds, besides having sold lands to the amount of seven hundred and
seventy-five thousand pounds. He still prosecuted the exactions of
purveyance, wardship, etc., to the great annoyance of his subjects. On
the occasion of his son being made a knight, he raised a tax on every
knight's fee of twenty shillings, and on every twenty pounds of annual
rent from lands held directly of the Crown, thus raising twenty-one
thousand eight hundred pounds. On the marriage of his daughter
Elizabeth to the Elector Palatine, he levied an aid of twenty thousand
five hundred pounds, the last of these odious impositions which were
demanded. The Customs on his coming to the throne brought in one
hundred and twenty-seven thousand pounds a year; but towards the end
of his reign, showing the great increase of commerce, they amounted to
one hundred and ninety thousand pounds a year. But this was the tonnage
and poundage which was so hateful to the nation, and which James had
greatly augmented by his own act and deed; an encroachment which caused
Parliament to refuse to his son Charles the usual grant of those duties
for life; and his persistence in levying them, in spite of Parliament,
was one of the chief causes of his quarrel with that body, and the loss
of his crown.

James was also a great trader in titles of nobility. His price for a
_barony_ was ten thousand pounds, for the title of _viscount_, twenty
thousand pounds, and for that of _earl_, thirty thousand pounds. He
also invented the new title of _baronet_, and raised two hundred and
twenty-five thousand pounds by it, at the rate of one thousand and
ninety-five pounds each baronetcy. From so dignified a source do many
of our aristocracy derive their honours.

Charles, though he was driven to such fatal extremities to extort
money from his subjects, is calculated to have realised the enormous
revenue from 1637 to 1641 inclusive, of eight hundred and ninety-five
thousand pounds, of which two hundred and ten thousand pounds arose
from Ship-money and other illegal sources. Both he and his father dealt
in wholesale monopolies to their courtiers and others, the profits of
which were so embezzled by those greedy and unprincipled men, that
Clarendon says that of two hundred thousand pounds of such income in
Charles's time, only one thousand five hundred pounds reached the
royal treasury. Charles raised two hundred thousand pounds in 1626 by
a forced loan, and another hundred thousand by exacting the fees or
compensation for exemption from the assumption of knighthood by every
person worth forty pounds a year.

The income and expenditure of the Commonwealth are stated to have
far exceeded those of any monarch who ever sat before on the throne
of England, and to have been not less than four million four hundred
thousand pounds per annum. The post office, as already stated, brought
in ten thousand pounds per annum. A singular tax, called the Weekly
Meal, or the price of a meal a week from each person, produced
upwards of one hundred thousand pounds a year, or six hundred and
eight thousand four hundred pounds in the six years during which it
was levied. There was a weekly assessment for the support of the war,
which rose from thirty-eight thousand pounds to one hundred and twenty
thousand pounds per week, which was continued as a land tax under the
Protectorate, producing from 1640 to 1659 no less than thirty-two
million one hundred and seventy-two thousand three hundred and
twenty-one pounds. The Excise also owes its origin to this period, and
produced, it is said, five hundred thousand pounds a year. Large sums
were realised by the sales of Crown and Church lands,--from the sale
of Crown lands, parks, etc., one million eight hundred and fifty-eight
thousand pounds; from the sale of Church lands, ten million pounds;
from sequestration of the revenue of the clergy for four years, three
million five hundred thousand pounds; eight hundred and fifty thousand
pounds from incomes of offices sequestered for the public service; four
million five hundred thousand pounds from the sequestration of private
estates or compositions for them; one million pounds from compositions
with delinquents in Ireland; three million five hundred thousand
pounds from the sale of forfeited estates in England and Ireland, etc.
The ministers and commanders are asserted to have taken good care of
themselves. Cromwell's own income is stated at nearly two million
pounds, or one million nine hundred thousand pounds; namely, one
million five hundred thousand pounds from England, forty-three thousand
pounds from Scotland, and two hundred and eight thousand pounds from
Ireland. The members of Parliament were paid at the rate of four pounds
a week each, or about three hundred thousand pounds a year altogether;
and Walker, in his "History of Independency," says that Lenthall, the
Speaker, held offices to the amount of nearly eight thousand pounds a
year; that Bradshaw had Eltham Palace, and an estate of one thousand
pounds a year, as bestowed for presiding at the king's trial; and
that nearly eight hundred thousand pounds were spent on gifts to
adherents of the party. As these statements, however, are those of
their adversaries, they no doubt admit of ample abatement; but after
all deduction, the demands of king and Parliament on the country during
the contest, and of the Protectorate in keeping down its enemies, must
have been enormous. Notwithstanding this, the rate of interest on money
continued through this period to decline. During James's reign it was
ten per cent.; in 1625, the last year of his reign, it was reduced to
eight per cent., and in 1651 it was fixed by the Parliament at six per
cent., at which rate it remained.

James issued various coinages. Soon after his accession he issued a
coinage of gold and one of silver. The gold was of two qualities.
The first of twenty-three carats three and a half grains, consisting
of angels, half-angels, and quarter-angels; value ten shillings,
five shillings, and two-and-sixpence. The inferior quality, of only
twenty-two carats, consisted of sovereigns, half-sovereigns, crowns,
and half-crowns. His silver coinage (_see_ Vol. II., p. 436) consisted
of crowns, half-crowns, shillings, sixpences, twopences, pence, and
halfpence. The gold coins, being of more value than that amount of
gold on the Continent, were rapidly exported, and the value of the
finest gold was then raised from thirty-three pounds ten shillings
to thirty-seven pounds four shillings and sixpence. The next coinage
at this value consisted of a twenty-shilling piece called the unit,
ten shillings called the double crown, five shillings or the Britain
crown, four shillings or the thistle crown, and two-and-sixpence,
or half-crown. (_See_ Vol. II., p. 432.) This value of the gold was
not found high enough, and the next year, in a fresh coinage, it was
valued at forty pounds ten shillings, and consisted of rose rials
of thirty shillings each, spur rials fifteen shillings, and angels
at ten shillings each. But gold still rising in value, in 1611 the
unit was raised to twenty-two shillings, and the other coins in
proportion. In 1612 there was a great rise in gold, and James issued
fresh twenty-shilling, ten-shilling, and five-shilling pieces, known
as laurels, from the king's head being wreathed with laurel. The unit
and twenty-shilling pieces were termed hood pieces. Besides the royal
coinage, shopkeepers and other retailers put out tokens of brass and
lead, which in 1613 were prohibited, and the first copper coinage in
England, being of farthings, was issued.

The coins of Charles were, for the most part, of the same nature as
those of his father. During his reign silver rose so much in value that
it was melted down and exported to a vast extent. Though between 1630
and 1643 some ten million pounds of silver were coined, it became so
scarce that the people had to give a premium for change in silver. In
1637 Charles established a mint at Aberystwith, for coining the Welsh
silver, which was of great value to him during the war. From 1628 to
1640 Nicholas Briot, a Frenchman, superintended the cutting of the
dies, instituted machinery for the hammer in coining and his coins were
of remarkable beauty. (_See_ Vol. II., p. 540.) Charles erected mints
at most of his headquarters during the war, as Oxford, Shrewsbury,
York, and other places, the coiners and dies of Aberystwith being used,
and these coins are distinguished by the Prince of Wales's feathers.
Many of these coins are of the rudest character; and besides these
there were issued siege pieces, so called from the besieged castles
where they were made, as Newark, Scarborough, Carlisle, and Pontefract.
Some of these are mere bits of silver plate with the rude stamp of the
castle on one side and the name of the town on the other. Others are
octagonal, others lozenge-shaped, others of scarcely any regular shape.
(_See p._ 29.)

The Commonwealth at first coined the same coins as the king, only
distinguishing them by a P for Parliament. They afterwards adopted dies
of their own, having on one side a St. George's cross on an antique
shield encircled with a palm and laurel, and on the other two antique
shields, one bearing the cross and the other the harp, surrounded by
the words GOD WITH US. Their small silver coins had the arms only
without any legend.

The coins of the Protectorate have on the obverse a bust of Cromwell,
round which is this inscription: "_Oliver D.G. R.P. Ang. Sco.
Hib. &c. Pro._" On the reverse they bear a shield, having in the
first and fourth quarters St. George's cross, in the second St.
Andrew's, in the third a harp, and in the centre a lion rampant on an
escutcheon--Cromwell's own arms--surmounted by an imperial crown. The
legend on this side is "_Pax quæritur bello_" (Peace is sought by war).
The larger silver pieces have this motto round the edge: "_Has nisi
periturus mihi adimat nemo_" (_i.e._ "Let no one take from me these
letters unless about to die"). In those days the penalty for clipping
and filing money was death. (_See p._ 121.)

The coins of the Commonwealth were the same for Ireland and Scotland
as for England. This was not the case in the reigns of James and
Charles, and the coins, though bearing the same arms, had generally a
very different value. For Ireland James coined silver and copper money
of about three-quarters the value of English, and called in the base
coinage used by Elizabeth in the time of the rebellion. Charles only
coined some silver in 1641, during the government of Lord Ormond, and
therefore called Ormonds. Copper halfpence and farthings of that period
are supposed to have been coined by the rebel Papists of 1642.

In agriculture and gardening the English were excelled by their
neighbours the Dutch and Flemings. Towards the latter part of this
period, however, they began to imitate those nations, and to introduce
their modes of drainage, their roots and seeds. In 1652 the advantage
of growing clover was pointed out by Bligh, in his "Improver Improved,"
and Sir Richard Weston recommended soon afterwards the Flemish mode
of cultivating the turnip for winter fodder for cattle and sheep.
Gardening was more attended to, and both vegetables and flowers were
introduced. Samuel Hartlib, a Pole, who was patronised by Cromwell,
wrote various treatises on agriculture, and relates that in his time
old men recollected the first gardener who went into Surrey to plant
cabbages, cauliflowers, and artichokes, and to sow early peas, turnips,
carrots, and parsnips. Till then almost all the supply of these
things in London was imported from Holland and Flanders. About that
time (1650), however, cherries, apples, pears, hops, cabbages, and
liquorice were rapidly cultivated, and soon superseded the necessity of
importation; but onions were still scarce, and the supply of stocks of
apple, pear, cherry, vine, and chestnut trees was difficult for want
of sufficient nurseries for them. There was a zealous endeavour to
promote the production of raw silk, and mulberry trees and silkworms
were introduced, but the abundant supply of silk from India, and the
perfection of the silk manufactured in France, rendered this scheme
abortive.

[Illustration: CHEAPSIDE AND THE CROSS IN 1660.]

Whilst James was hunting and levying taxes without a Parliament, and
Charles was in continual strife with his people for unconstitutional
power and revenue, literature and art were still at work, and producing
or preparing some of the noblest and choicest creations of genius.
Shakespeare and Milton were the great lights of the age; but around and
beside them burned a whole galaxy of lesser, but not less exquisite,
luminaries, whose selected beauties are just as delightful now as
they were to their contemporaries. The names of this period, to which
we still turn with admiration, reverence, and affection, are chiefly
Shakespeare, Milton, Bacon, Marlowe, Massinger, Webster, Selden,
Herrick, Herbert, Quarles, Bunyan, Bishop Hall, Hales, Chillingworth,
Jeremy Taylor, Raleigh, Sir Thomas Browne, Burton (of the "Anatomy
of Melancholy"), and Drummond of Hawthornden. But there are numbers
of others, more unequal or more scholastic, to whose works we can
occasionally turn, and find passages of wonderful beauty and power.

[Illustration: THE "GLOBE" THEATRE, SOUTHWARK (WITH THE "ROSE" THEATRE
IN THE DISTANCE), IN 1613.

(_From a Contemporary Print._)]

As we come first to Shakespeare, who figured largely on the scene in
the days of Queen Bess, and whose poetry we have already reviewed
(Vol. II., pp. 373-5), we may take the drama of this period also
in connection with him. A formal criticism on Shakespeare would be
superfluous. There are whole volumes of comment on this greatest of our
great writers, both in this language and others. The Germans, indeed,
pride themselves on understanding him better than ourselves. The
Scandinavians equally venerate him, and have an admirable translation
of his dramas. Even the French, the tone and spirit of whose literature
are so different from ours, have, of late years, begun to comprehend
and receive him. The fact is, Shakespeare's genius is what the
Germans term spherical, or many-sided. He had not a brilliancy in one
direction only, but he seemed like a grand mirror, in which is truly
reflected every image that falls on it. Outward nature, inner life
and passion, town and country, all the features of human nature, as
exhibited in every grade of life--from the cottage to the throne--are
in him expressed with a truth and a natural strength, that awake in
us precisely the same sensations as nature itself. The receptivity of
his mind was as quick, as vast, as perfect, as his power of expression
was unlimited. Every object once seen appeared photographed on his
spirit, and he reproduced these lifelike images in new combinations,
and mingled with such an exuberance of wit, of humour, of delicious
melodies, and of exquisite poetry, as has no parallel in the whole
range of literature.

It has been said that his dramas cast into the shade and made
obsolete all that went before him; but, indeed, his great light
equally overwhelms also all that has come after him. Where is the
second Shakespeare of the stage? He still stands alone as the type of
dramatic greatness and perfection, and is likely to continue so. When
we recollect his marvellous characters--his Hamlet, his Macbeth, his
Lady Macbeth, his Othello, his Shylock, his Lear, his Ophelia, his
Beatrice, his Juliet, his Rosalind--the humours and follies of Shallow,
Slender, Dogberry, Touchstone, Bottom, Launce, Falstaff--or his ideal
creations, Ariel, Caliban, Puck, Queen Mab--we cannot hope for the
appearance of any single genius who shall at once enrich our literature
with such living and speaking characters, such a profound insight into
the depths and eccentricities of human nature, and such a fervent and
varied expression of all the sentiments that are dearest to our hearts.
But when we survey in addition the vast extent of history and country
over which he has roamed, gleaning thence the most kingly personages,
the most tragic incidents, the most moving and thrilling as well as the
most amusing sensations and fancies, our wonder is the greater. Greece
has lent him its Pericles, its Timon, its Troilus and Cressida--Rome
its Cæsar, Brutus, Antony, Coriolanus--Egypt its Cleopatra.
Ancient Britain, Scotland, and Denmark; all the fairest cities of
Italy--Venice, Verona, Mantua; the forests of Illyria and Belgium, and
the isles of the Grecian seas, are made the perpetually shifting arena
of his triumphs. Through all these he ranged with a free hand, and,
with a power mightier than ever was wielded by any magician, recalled
to life all that was most illustrious there, giving them new and more
piquant effect from the sympathetic nearness into which he brought
them with the spectator, and from the enchanting scenery with which
he surrounded them. All this was done by the son of the woolcomber of
Stratford--the youthful ranger of the woods of Charlecote, and the
uplands of Clopton,--the merry frequenter of country wakes, and then
the player of London, who, so far as we know, was never out of his
native land in his life.

If we are to take it for granted that after the year 1597, when he
bought one of the best houses in his native town for his residence,
Shakespeare spent his life there, except during the theatrical season,
the greater part of his last nineteen years would be passed in the
quiet of his country home. We may then settle his _Two Gentlemen of
Verona_, _The Comedy of Errors_, _Love's Labours Lost_, _All's Well
that Ends Well_, _Richard II._ and _Richard III._, _King John_, _Titus
Andronicus_ (if his), the first part of _Henry IV._, and _Romeo and
Juliet_, as produced in the bustle of his London life. But the far
greater part, and the most magnificent and poetical, of his dramas
were composed in the pleasant retirement of his native scenes; namely,
the second part of _Henry IV._, _Henry V._, _A Midsummer Night's
Dream_, _Much Ado about Nothing_, and _The Merchant of Venice_, in
1598 and 1600; the second and third parts of _Henry VI._, _Merry
Wives of Windsor_, 1601; _Hamlet_, 1602; _Lear_, 1608; _Troilus and
Cressida_ and _Pericles_, 1609; _Othello_ (not published till after
the author's death, which was the case, too, with all his other
plays, though brought on the stage in his lifetime), _The Winter's
Tale_, _As You Like It_, _King Henry VIII._, _Measure for Measure_,
_Cymbeline_, _Macbeth_, _The Taming of the Shrew_, _Julius Cæsar_,
_Antony and Cleopatra_, _Coriolanus_, _Timon of Athens_, _The Tempest_,
and _Twelfth Night_. Shakespeare died in 1616. Of the envy which the
unexampled splendour of Shakespeare's genius produced amongst inferior
dramatic writers, we have an amusing specimen in the words of Robert
Greene: "There is an upstart crow, beautified with our feathers, that,
with his tiger's heart wrapped in a player's hide, supposes he is
as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you, and,
being an absolute Johannes Factotum, is, in his own conceit, the only
_Shakscene_ in a country."

Amongst the most remarkable dramatic contemporaries of Shakespeare, or
those who immediately followed him, were Chapman, Ben Jonson, Webster,
Middleton, Dekker, Marston, Taylor, Tourneur, Rowley, Ford, Heywood,
Shirley, and Beaumont and Fletcher. George Chapman (_born_, 1557;
_died_, 1634) wrote sixteen plays, and, conjointly with Ben Jonson
and Marston, one more, as well as three in conjunction with Shirley.
The tragedies of Chapman are written in a grave and eloquent diction,
and abound with fine passages, but you feel at once that they are not
calculated, like Shakespeare's, for acting. They want the inimitable
life, ease, and beauty of the great dramatist. Perhaps his tragedy
of _Bussy D'Ambois_ is his best, and next to that his _Conspiracy
and Tragedy of Charles, Duke of Byron_. Of his comedies, the best
are, _Eastward Ho!_ partly composed by Jonson and Marston, _Monsieur
d'Olive_, and his _All Fools_. But Chapman's fame now rests on his
translation of Homer, which, with all its rudeness of style and extreme
quaintness, has always seized on the imagination of poets, and has been
declared to be the best translation of the "Iliad" and "Odyssey" that
we possess. Pope was greatly indebted to it, having borrowed from it
almost all the felicitous double epithets which are found in him.

The most celebrated of Webster's tragedies, _The Duchess of Malfi_,
was revived by Richard Hengist Horne, and put on the stage at Sadler's
Wells by Phelps with considerable success. He was the author of
three tragedies, _Appius and Virginia_, _Duchess of Malfi_, and _The
White Devil, or, Vittoria Corombona_; a tragic comedy, _The Devil's
Law Case, or, When Women Go to Law, the Devil is full of Business_,
besides two comedies in conjunction with Rowley, and two others
in conjunction with Dekker. Webster exhibits remarkable power of
language, and an imagination of wonderful vigour, but rather too fond
of horrors. Undoubtedly he was one of the best dramatists of his age,
and seemed fully conscious of it. That he had a true poetic vein in
him is evidenced by such passages as the "Dirge of Marcello," sung by
his mother, which reminds one of the like simple homely ditties in
Shakespeare:--

"Call for the robin red-breast and the wren,
Since o'er shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and flowers do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.
Call unto his funeral dole
The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole,
To raise him hillocks that shall keep him warm,
And when grey tombs are robbed, sustain no harm."

There are fine truths also scattered through his dramas as:--"To see
what solitariness is about dying princes! As heretofore they have
unpeopled towns, divided friends, and made great houses inhospitable,
so now, O justice, where are their flatterers? Flatterers are but the
shadows of princes' bodies; the least thick cloud makes them invisible."

Of Middleton, who wrote from twenty to thirty plays, in some of which,
according to a very prevalent fashion of that age, he called in the aid
of Rowley, Dekker, Fletcher, and Massinger; of Dekker, who wrote the
whole or part of about thirty plays; of John Marston, who wrote eight
plays; of Taylor, Tourneur, Heywood, and Ford, we can only say that
their dramas abound with fine things, and would well repay a perusal.
John Fletcher (_born_, 1576; _died_, 1625) and Francis Beaumont
(_born_, 1586; _died_, 1616) require a more specific notice. They
worked together on the same plays to the number of upwards of thirty,
whilst John Fletcher wrote fourteen or fifteen himself. In fact,
Fletcher, so far as can be known, was the more voluminous writer of the
two, Beaumont having written little in his own name, except a masque,
a few farces, dramatic pieces, and translations. The style of the
two, however, was so much alike, that there is little to distinguish
their productions from those of an individual mind. Beaumont and
Fletcher were, as stated by Dryden, far more popular in their time than
Shakespeare himself. The truth is, that they had less originality and
were more compliant with the spirit of their age. They sought their
characters more in the range of ordinary life, and therefore hit the
tastes of a large and commoner class. They were extremely lively and
forcible in dialogue, and had a flowery and dignified style which
oftener approached the poetical than became it. We are everywhere met
by admirable writing, and a finely-sustained tone, but we travel on
without encountering those original characters that can never again be
forgotten, and become a part of our world, or those exquisite gushes of
poetry and poetic scenery which, like the music of Ariel, ring in the
memory long afterwards. At the same time we are continually offended by
extreme grossness and jarred by slovenliness and incongruity. They are
of the class of great and able playwrights who command the popularity
of their age, but whom future ages praise and neglect; and who are only
read by the curious for the fragments of good things that they contain.

The fate of Ben Jonson (_b._, 1574; _d._, 1637) has been nearly the
same. Excepting his comedies of _Every Man in his Humour_, _Volpone_,
_The Silent Woman_, and _The Alchemist_, we are content to read the
bulk of his dramas, and wonder at his erudition and his wit. His
genius is most conspicuous in his masques and Court pageants, which
were the delight of James's queen, Anne of Denmark, and the whole
Court. In them the spirits of the woods seem to mingle with those
of courts and cities; and fancy and a hue of romance give to royal
festivities the impressions of Arcadian life. But the living poetry of
the _Midsummer Night's Dream_ or of _Comus_ is yet wanting to touch
them with perfection. Hence their chief charm died with the age which
patronised them, and having once perused them, we are not drawn to them
again by a loving memory, as we are to the Shakespearean woodlands and
lyrical harmonies. In Jonson's graver dramas there is a cold classical
tone which leaves the affections untouched and the feelings unmoved,
while we respect the artistic skill and the learned dignity of the
composition.

Philip Massinger (_b._, 1584; _d._, 1640), who wrote nearly forty
dramatic pieces, is a vigorous writer, eloquent and effective. He is
trenchant in his satire, and delights in displaying pride and meanness
exposed and punished. Still he is greater as a dramatist than a poet.
His _New Way to Pay Old Debts_ and _The Fatal Dowry_ are best known to
lovers of the drama. The _City Madam_ is a play which is full of strong
features of the times. Dekker assisted him in _The Virgin Martyr_, and
is supposed to have introduced a higher and richer vein of feeling than
belonged to Massinger himself.

Altogether the dramatic writing of this period has never been
surpassed, and in Shakespeare has never been equalled. There is
mingled with much licentiousness and coarseness a manly and healthy
strength in the writers of this department; and though the bulk of
these compositions have vanished from the stage, they will be long
studied with enjoyment by those who delight in living portraiture of
past ages, and the strong current of genuine English sense and feeling.
The arrival of the Commonwealth put down all theatres and scenic
amusements. The solemn religion of the Puritans was death to what
they called "the lascivious mirth and levity of players." After their
suppression for six years, it was found that the ordinance of the Long
Parliament was clandestinely and extensively evaded; and in 1648 an
Act was passed ordering all theatres to be pulled down and demolished,
and the players to be punished "as rogues according to law." Towards
the end of the Protectorate, however, dramatic representations again
crept in cautiously, and Sir William Davenant at first giving musical
entertainments and declamations at Rutland House, Charterhouse Square,
and afterwards in Drury Lane, calling his entertainments "operas," at
length gave regular plays. The Restoration at last set the imprisoned
drama altogether free.

Besides dramatic writers, poets abounded. It has been calculated that
from the reign of Elizabeth to the Restoration, no less than four
hundred writers of verse appeared. Some of these, who attained a great
reputation in their day, and whose works are still retained in our
collections, were rather verse-wrights than poets, and would now tax
the patience of poetical readers beyond endurance. Such were William
Warner, the author of "Albion's England," a history of England in
metre extending from Noah's flood to the reign of Elizabeth; Samuel
Daniel, the author of the "Civil Wars of Lancaster and York," in eight
books; and Michael Drayton, who also wrote the "Barons' Wars" in verse,
"England's Heroical Epistles," and, above all, the "Polyolbion," a
topography in Alexandrine verse, in thirty books, and thirty thousand
lines. Next came Giles and Phineas Fletcher, who employed their
strength in composing allegoric poems. Phineas, under the delusive
appellation of "The Purple Island," wrote an anatomical description of
the human body, with all its veins, arteries, sinews, and so forth.
This was extended to twelve books, on which an abundance of very
excellent language was wasted. Besides this, he composed "Piscatory
Eclogues," and other poems; and Giles, choosing a worthier subject,
wrote "Christ's Victory," in the Italian _ottava rima_, or eight-lined
stanzas. To such perversion of the name of poetry had men arrived in
the age of Shakespeare.

There were sundry poets who were also translators. Of these,
Edward Fairfax, of the same family as Lord Fairfax, was the most
distinguished. He translated with singular vigour and poetic feeling
Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered." It is still referred to with intense
pleasure by the lovers of our old poetry. Joshua Sylvester--who
wrote like King James against tobacco, but in verse, "Tobacco
Battered"--translated, amongst other things, "The Divine Weeks and
Works" of the French poet Du Bartas. Sir Richard Fanshawe translated
the "Lusiad," by the Portuguese poet Camoens. Fanshawe, moreover,
translated the "Pastor Fido" of Guarini, from the Italian, the "Odes"
of Horace, the fourth book of the "Æneid," and the "Love for Love's
Sake," of the Spaniard Mendoza. Fanshawe seemed to have a peculiar
taste for the European languages derived from the Latin as for the
Latin itself; thus he translated from Roman, Spanish, Portuguese, and
Italian poets, and from all with much taste and elegance.

Sir John Denham was a popular poet of the time, and his "Cooper's
Hill" is still retained in our collections, and finds readers amongst
admirers of descriptive poetry. Writers of much more sterling poetry
were Sir John Davies, Drummond of Hawthornden, Bishop Hall, and Donne.
Sir John Davies was long Attorney-General, and Chief-Justice of the
King's Bench at the time of his death (_b._, 1570; _d._, 1626).
He is author of a poem on dancing called the "Orchestra," but his
great work is his "_Nosce Teipsum_," or "Know Thyself," a work which
treats on human knowledge and the immortality of the soul. It is
written in quatrains, or four-lined stanzas, and is one of the finest
philosophical poems in the language as it was one of the first. There
are a life and feeling in the poem which make it always fresh, like
the waters of a pure and deep fountain. Speaking of the soul, he
says:--

"Yet under heaven she cannot light on aught,
That with her heavenly nature doth agree;
She cannot rest, she cannot fix her thought,
She cannot in this world contented be.

"For who did ever yet in honour, wealth,
Or pleasure of the sense, contentment find?
Who ever ceased to wish when he had wealth,
Or, having wisdom, was not vexed in mind?

"Then as a bee which among weeds doth fall,
Which seem sweet flowers with lustre fresh and gay,
She lights on that and this and tasteth all,
But pleased with none, doth rise and soar away."

[Illustration: HAWTHORNDEN IN 1773. (_After an Etching by John Clerk of
Eldin._)]

Drummond of Hawthornden, near Edinburgh, wrote, besides considerable
prose, some exquisite poems and sonnets formed on the Italian model;
and Bishop Hall, in his satires, presents some of the most graphic
sketches of English life, manners, and scenery. Dr. Donne, who was
Dean of St. Paul's, and the most fashionable preacher of his day,
was also the most fashionable poet--we do not except Shakespeare. He
was the rage, in fact, of all admirers of poetry, and was the head
of a school of which Cowley was the most extravagant disciple, and
of which Crashaw, Wither, Herrick, Herbert, and Quarles had more
or less of the characteristics. In all these poets there was deep
feeling of spirituality, religion, and wit, and, in some of them, of
nature, dashed and marred by a fantastic style, full of quaintnesses
and conceits. In some of them these were so tempered as to give them
an original and piquant air, as in Herrick, Herbert, and Quarles; in
others, as in Donne and Cowley, they degenerated into disfigurement and
absurdity. But Donne (_b._, 1573; _d._, 1631) had great and shining
qualities, keen, bold satire, profound and intellectual thoughts, and
a most sparkling fancy, embedding rich touches of passion and pathos,
yet so marred by uncouth and strange conceits, that one scarcely
knows how to estimate his compositions. In a word, they are the exact
antipodes of the natural style, and this fashion was carried to its
utmost extravagance by Cowley. A stanza or two from a parting address
of a lover to his mistress may show something of Donne's quality and
manner:--

"As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go;
Whilst some of their sad friends do say
The breath goes now, and some say, no;

"So let us melt and make no noise,
No tear-floods nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys,
To tell the laity of our love.

"Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did and meant;
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent."

George Wither (_b._, 1588; _d._, 1667) has much less of what a
contemporary happily styled the "Occult School." He says himself that
he took "little pleasure in rhymes, fictions, or conceited compositions
for their own sakes," but preferred "such as flowed forth without
study;" and indeed, he has far more nature. He was confined for years
in the Marshalsea prison, for publishing a biting satire, called
"Abuses Stripped and Whipped," and there he wrote a long allegorical
poem, called "The Shepherds' Hunting," in which his description of
Poetry is a perfect gem of fancy and natural feeling:--

"By the murmur of a spring,
Or the least boughs rustling,
By a daisy, whose leaves spread,
Shut when Titan goes to bed;
Or a shady bush or tree,
She could more infuse in me
Than all Nature's beauties can
In some other wiser man."

Two songs of Wither's, quoted in Percy's "Reliques"--"The Steadfast
Shepherd," and the one beginning

"Shall I, wasting in despair,
Die because a woman's fair?
Or make pale my cheeks with care
'Cause another's rosy are?
Be she fairer than the day,
Or the flowery meads in May;
If she be not so to me,
What care I how fair she be?"--

are exquisite lines, that no reader ever forgets.

Crashaw (_b._, 1616; _d._, 1650) was of a deeply religious tone of
mind, and became a Catholic. His finest poems are his religious ones,
and they are full of music and passionate reveries, yet disfigured by
the Donne fashion, which Dryden, and after him Johnson, inaccurately
termed the Metaphysical School, instead of the Fantastic or Singularity
School. His very first poem, called "The Weeper," shows how he treated
even sacred subjects:--

"Hail, sister springs!
Parents of silver-forded rills,
Ever-bubbling things!
Thawing crystal, snowy hills,
Still spending, never spent, I mean
Thy fair eyes, sweet Magdalene.

"Heavens thy fair eyes be,
Heavens of ever-falling stars;
'Tis seed-time still with thee,
And stars thou sow'st, whose harvest dares
Promise the earth to countershine,
Whatever makes heaven's forehead shine."

Carew, Suckling, Lovelace are poets whose merits, in their various
styles, would deserve a separate examination, but we must pass on
to three other poets, who have been more known to modern readers,
and who would of themselves have stamped their age as one of genuine
inspiration--Herbert, Herrick, and Quarles. Herbert and Herrick,
like Donne, were clergymen, and in their quiet country parsonages
poured forth some of the most exquisite lyrics which enrich any
language. Herrick may be said to be the born poet of nature--Herbert
of devotion. Robert Herrick (_b._, 1591; _d._, 1674) was of an old
family of Leicestershire. His lyrics, so full of grace, are the very
soul of Nature's melody and rapture. He revels in all the charms of the
country--flowers, buds, fairies, bees, the gorgeous blossoming May,
the pathos and antique simplicity of rural life; its marriages, its
churchyard histories, its imagery of awaking and fading existence. The
free, joyous, quaint, and musical flow and rhythm of his verse have
all that felicity and that ring of woodland cadences which mark the
snatches of rustic verse which Shakespeare scatters through his dramas.
His "Night Piece to Juliet," beginning--

"Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,
The shooting stars attend thee,
And the elves also
Whose little eyes glow
Like sparks of fire, befriend thee!"

is precisely of that character. His "Daffodils" express the beautiful
but melancholy sentiment which he so frequently found in nature:--

"Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early rising sun
Has not attained his noon.
Stay, stay,
Until the hastening day
Has run
But to the evensong,
And having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.

"We have short time to stay as you,
We have as short a spring,
As quick a growth to meet decay
As you, or anything.
We die,
As your hours do; and dry
Away
Like to the summer rain,
Or as the pearls of morning dew,
Ne'er to be found again."

Herrick's works are his "Hesperides" and his "Noble Numbers," the
latter being religious, and not equal to the former.

In religious tone, intensity, and grandeur, George Herbert (_b._, 1593;
_d._, 1633) is his superior. Herbert was in early life a courtier; his
eldest brother being the celebrated sceptical writer, Lord Herbert of
Cherbury. Herbert's hopes of Court preferment fortunately ceasing with
the death of King James, he took orders, grew extremely religious,
married an admirable wife, and retired to Bemerton parsonage, about a
mile from Salisbury, where he died of consumption at the age of forty.
Herbert was the very personification of Chaucer's "Good Parson." His
life was one constant scene of piety and benevolence. Beloved by his
parishioners, happy in his congenial wife, and passionately fond of
music and his poetry, his days glided away as already in heaven. The
music which he loved was poured into his poetry, which overflows with
tender and profound feeling, the most chaste and seraphic imagination,
and the most fervent devotion. James Montgomery, of later times, not a
little resembled him in his pure and beautiful piety; but there is in
Herbert a greater vigour, more dignity of style, and finer felicity of
imagery. There is a gravity, a sublimity, and a sweetness which mingle
in his devotional lyrics, and endear them for ever to the heart. His
"Temple" is a poetic fabric worthy of a Christian minstrel, and stands
as an immortal refutation of the oft-repeated theory, that religious
poetry cannot be at once original and attractive. What can be more
noble than the following stanzas from his poem entitled "Man"?--

"For us the winds do blow;
The earth doth rest, heavens move, and fountains flow.
Nothing we see but means our good,
As our delight, or as our treasure:
The whole is either our cupboard of food
Or cabinet of pleasure.

"The stars have us to bed;
Night draws the curtain which the sun withdraws,
Music and light attend our head.
All things to our _flesh_ are kind
In their _descent_ and _being_; to our _mind_
In their _ascent_ and _cause_.

"Each thing is full of duty:
Waters united are our navigation;
Distinguished, our habitation;
Below, our drink--above, our meat:
Both are our cleanliness. Hath one such beauty?
Then how are all things neat!

"More servants wait on man
Than he'll take notice of: in every path
He treads down that which doth befriend him
When sickness makes him pale and wan.
Oh! mighty love! man is one world, and hath
Another to attend him."

Besides his "Temple," Herbert wrote a prose work, "The Priest to the
Temple; or, the Country Parson," which is charmingly full of the
simple, child-like piety of the author. He also collected a great
number of proverbs, under the title of "Jacula Prudentum."

The third of the trio of poets who seem to class themselves together
by their quaintness, their fancy, and their piety, is Francis Quarles,
(_b._, 1592; _d._, 1644) a man who has been treated by many critics
as a mere poetaster, but who is one of the most sterling poets which
English genius has produced. Quarles was a gentleman and a scholar; in
his youth he was cup-bearer to Elizabeth of Bohemia, and was finally
ruined by taking the Royal side in the Civil Wars. He wrote various
poetical works; "Argalus and Parthenia," "A Feast for Worms," "Zion's
Elegies," and a series of elegies on the death of a friend, the son
of Bishop Aylmer. But the great work of Quarles is his "Emblems,"
which originated in a Latin poem by Herman Hugo, a Jesuit, called "Pia
Desideria." This book, condemned and overlooked by the great critics,
like Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress," has, from generation to generation,
adorned with curious woodcuts, circulated amongst the people in town
and country, till it has won an extraordinary popularity: and that
it has well deserved it, we need only read such verses as these to
convince ourselves:--

"I love, and have some cause to love, the earth:
She is my Maker's creature--therefore good;
She is my mother--for she gave me birth;
She is my tender nurse--she gives me food.
But what's a creature, Lord, compared with Thee?
Or what's my mother, or my nurse, to me?

"I love the air: her dainty sweets refresh
My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me;
Her shrill-mouthed quires sustain me with their flesh
And with their Polyphonian notes delight me.
But what's the air, or all the sweets that she
Can bless my soul withal, compared to Thee?

"I love the sea: she is my fellow-creature--
My careful purveyor; she provides me store;
She walls me round, she makes my diet greater;
She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore.
But, Lord of oceans, when compared to Thee,
What is the ocean, or her health to me?

"To heaven's high city I direct my journey,
Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye;
Mine eye, by contemplation's great attorney,
Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky.
But what is heaven, great God, compared to Thee?
Without Thy presence, heaven's no heaven to me.

"Without Thy presence, earth gives no refection;
Without Thy presence, sea affords no treasure;
Without Thy presence, air's a rank infection;
Without Thy presence, heaven itself's no pleasure.
If not possessed, if not enjoyed in Thee,
What's earth, or sea, or air, or heaven to me?"

William Browne's "Britannia's Pastorals," written at this period,
have been much and justly celebrated for their faithful transcripts
of nature and country life. There are others, besides, that sue for
recognition as among the genuine poets of those times--Raleigh, as a
lyrical poet; Sir Henry Wotton; Henry Vaughan, the author of "Silex
Scintillans" and "Olor Iscanus," a disciple of Herbert's, who would
demand a notice were it only to show how freely Campbell borrowed the
poem of "The Rainbow" from him:--

"How bright wert thou when Shem's admiring eye
Thy burning, flaming arch did first descry!
When Zerah, Nahor, Haran, Abram, Lot,
_The youthful world's grey fathers_ in one knot,
Did with attentive looks _watch every hour
For thy new light_."

And so Campbell:--

"When on the green, undeluged earth,
Heaven's covenant, thou didst shine;
How came _the world's grey fathers_ forth
_To watch thy sacred sign_."

Altogether, no age--not even our own--has produced such a constellation
of poets, nor such a mass of exquisite, superb, and imperishable
poetry. Whilst Shakespeare was fast departing, Milton was rising,
and during this period wrote many of his inimitable smaller poems.
Even honest Andrew Marvell, when freed from his labours in the great
struggle for the Commonwealth, solaced himself with writing poetry,
English and Latin, and some of it of no contemptible order, as in his
boat-song of the exiles of the Bermudas:--

"Thus they sang in the English boat
A holy and a cheerful note,
And all the way, to guide the chime,
They with the falling oars kept time."

So he forgot occasionally polemics and politics in "a holy and a
cheerful note" of his own. Even the saturnine Sir Thomas Overbury, whom
Somerset and his wife had murdered in the Tower, could brighten up in
poetry as in his "Choice of a Wife:"--

"If I were to choose a woman,
As who knows but I may marry,
I would trust the eye of no man,
Nor a tongue that may miscarry;
For in way of love and glory
Each tongue best tells his own story."

The prose of the age was equally remarkable. First and foremost stands
Francis Bacon (_b._, 1561; _d._, 1626) with his "Novum Organum," a new
instrument of discovery in philosophy, and other works of a kindred
character. He tells us that in his youth he took a great aversion
to the philosophy of Aristotle; being, he said, a philosophy only
strong for disputations and contentions, but barren of the production
of works for the life of man; and in this mind he continued through
life. Besides other works of less note, in 1605 he published one of
great importance on "The Advancement of Learning;" soon after he
published the outline or groundwork of his "Organum," under the title
of "Cogitata et Visa; or, Things Thought Out and Seen," and proudly
boasted of it as the greatest birth of time. He afterwards published
the "Wisdom of the Ancients," and it was not till 1621, and when he
had reached the summit of his profession, and been made Viscount of
St. Albans, that he brought out his great work, "The Instauration of
the Sciences," of which the "Novum Organum" is the second part. No
work was so little understood at the time or has occasioned such a
variety of opinions since. Bacon was well aware that such would be
the case, for in his will he says that he leaves his name and memory
to foreign nations, and to his own countrymen after some time be
passed over. Bacon asserted that he had superseded the Aristotelian
philosophy, and introduced a new and accurate method of inquiry, both
into mind and matter, by experiment and induction. By one party he is
declared to be the great renovator of true knowledge, and the father
of the modern sciences by this method; by another, that he is nothing
of the kind, and that modern discovery would have progressed as well
without his New Instrument; that Aristotle pursued this method of
induction himself, and that Galileo discovered the motion of the earth
by the same means that Bacon taught at the same time. But whoever has
acquainted himself with the system of Aristotle, and, still more, with
the loose and absurd method by which it was taught in the schools
before Bacon's time, must see that Bacon, if he did not altogether
introduce the system, reduced it to precision and accuracy, and thus
put an end to the windy logic and abortive practice of the schools.
They were accustomed to assume false and visionary premises, and reason
from them by syllogisms which, of course, proved nothing. Bacon, by
proceeding by analysis and synthesis--by first extracting from a
substance, or a topic, everything that did not really belong to it,
and then bringing these expurgated matters into contrast--drew sure
conclusions, and advanced towards positive discovery. True, Galileo
worked by the same method; but Bacon taught it, and made it clear to
all understandings. To say, therefore, that modern science owes nothing
to Bacon is to utter a self-evident falsity. Both in experimental
philosophy and in metaphysical inquiry, it is Bacon's light, and not
Aristotle's, which is followed. That Bacon himself made no great
discoveries in prosecuting his own method proves nothing; because,
though he was not sufficiently advanced in the actual knowledge of the
properties of Matter, he saw and taught clearly how such knowledge was
to be acquired, and applied to the legitimate development of Science.
How completely ignorant was the age of real experimental philosophy,
is shown by the ridicule and contempt which was cast on the "Novum
Organum." Such men as Ben Jonson and Sir Henry Wotton expressed their
profound admiration of it, but by the wits of the time Bacon was
laughed at as little better than a maniac. King James said, in his
almost blasphemous way, that it was like the peace of God--passing all
understanding; and Lord Coke said--

"It deserveth not to be read in schools,
But to be freighted in the ship of fools."

[Illustration: SCENE AT THE FUNERAL OF CHILLINGWORTH. (_See p._ 182.)]

He was represented by men eminent in the world's opinion as "no great
philosopher--a man rather of show than of depth, who wrote philosophy
like a lord chancellor." Abroad, as Bacon had foreseen, his work was
received in a different manner, and pronounced by the learned one of
the most important accessions ever made to philosophy. Whoever will
carefully study it, will find not merely the exposition of his method,
but views stretching into the heights and depths, not only of our own
nature but of the nature and life of the Universe in which we move,
thoughts which stamp the mind of Bacon as one of the most capacious,
many-sided, and profound that ever appeared.

Next to Bacon's we should place the prose writings of John Milton
(_b._, 1608; _d._, 1674) in general importance and intellectual
greatness. As Bacon's were directed to the advancement of true liberty
in philosophy, Milton's were directed to the liberation of the Church
and State from the tyranny of king and custom. His "Areopagitica," a
speech for the liberty of unlicensed printing, is a grand plea for the
freedom of the press; his "Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes," and
the "Best Means of Removing Hirelings out of the Church," go to the
root of all hierarchical corruption. Besides these, his "Defence of
the People of England" in reply to Salmasius, his "Second Defence,"
in reply to Peter du Moulin, and his "Eikonoklastes" in refutation of
the "Eikon Basiliké," attributed to Charles I., but written by Dr.
Gauden, and others of his prose works, are written in a somewhat stiff
but lofty and massive style. They foreshow the great national poet of
"Paradise Lost;" and cannot be read without a deep veneration for the
great Puritan champion of the liberties and fame of England.

Next to these we should name the great advocates of Protestantism,
Hales and Chillingworth. The "Discourse on Schism" is the writing of
Hales which brought him into notice, and led to the most important
consequences. It struck at the very root of tradition and submission
to the authority of the Fathers, which Laud and his party had exerted
themselves to establish; and it was followed out by Chillingworth
(_b._, 1602; _d._, 1644) in his "The Religion of Protestants, a Safe
Way to Salvation." In this work, which has since been styled the
"bulwark of Protestantism," Chillingworth endeavoured to prove the
Divine authority of the Bible on the basis of historic evidence, and
having done that to his satisfaction, he declared that the religion
of Protestants was the Bible, and nothing but the Bible. By this rule
alone they are, in his opinion, to be judged; the Scriptures alone
are to be the standard of their doctrines. He thus cut off all the
claims of Popery built on tradition, and established the right of
private judgment. In this he served not only the Established Church,
to which he belonged, but every body of Christians whatever; for they
had, according to his reasoning, the same right to interpret the
Bible for themselves. This gave great scandal to the bigoted party in
the Church. They declared that he had destroyed faith by reducing it
to simple reason. He was violently attacked by both Catholics and
Puritans. Knott, a Jesuit, and Dr. Cheynell, one of the Assembly of
Divines, were his most determined opponents. Cheynell wrote against
him, "Chillingworthi Novissima; or, the Sickness, Heresy, Death, and
Burial of W. C., with a Profane Catechism selected out of his Works."
Not satisfied with this, he attended his funeral, made a violent
harangue against him, and flung the "Religion of Protestants" into his
grave, crying, "Get thee gone, thou cursed book, which has seduced so
many precious souls--get thee gone, thou corrupt, rotten book, earth
to earth, dust to dust, go and rot with thy author." The Protestant
Church has fully acknowledged the services of Chillingworth. Even
those who deem that there are other evidences of Christianity than the
historic evidences, or even the deductions of criticism, admit that his
arguments go far to demonstrate the genuineness of the Bible records,
and therefore of the Christian religion. The highest encomiums have
been paid to the reasoning and eloquence of Chillingworth, by Locke,
Clarendon, Gibbon, Dugald Stewart, and all our theological writers.

What Chillingworth did for Protestantism, Cudworth, in his great work,
"The True Intellectual System of the Universe," did for religion in
general, demolishing most completely the philosophy of atheism and
infidelity. Barrow, Henry More, and Jeremy Taylor, added much wealth
to the theological literature of the age. More and Barrow belong more
properly to the next period. Taylor (_b._, 1613; _d._, 1677), who was
the son of a barber, became one of the most celebrated preachers of
that time, and both his sermons and his other works have received from
many of our chief critics and historians the most encomiastic praises.
He has been represented as a modern Chrysostom. Much of this praise he
undoubtedly deserves, but readers coming to him after such extravagant
laudation, experience a sensible disappointment. His "Holy Living and
Dying" may be taken as the most favourable specimen of his writings;
and though grave, pleasing, and consolatory, it does not strike us by
any means as highly or brilliantly eloquent. His sermons, especially
on the "Marriage Ring" and on the "House of Feasting," are of the same
character. They are full of piety, sweetness, and grace, but they are
not eloquence of the highest class. His sentences are often wearyingly
long, his illustrations do not always appear very pertinent, and his
manner is too much that of the father of the fourth century, whom he
appears to have greatly formed himself upon.

The writings of Archbishop Ussher and the sermons of Bishop Andrews
deserve mention; but the works of Thomas Fuller, the author of the
"Worthies of England," "The Church History of Great Britain," "The
Holy and Profane States," and other books, are undoubtedly the most
witty and amusing of the whole period. Next to Burton's "Anatomy of
Melancholy," a work, too, of this time, they have furnished to modern
authors more original ideas, more frequent and pregnant sentiments
and allusions than any others in the language. They have been rivers
of thought to men who had very little of their own. Harrington's
"Oceana"--a political romance, written to illustrate the opinion that
the great power of nations consists in their property--has ideas to
repay a reader who has leisure and patience. A writer who has always
taken a high rank for originality is Sir Thomas Browne, the author of
"Religio Medici," "Urn Burial," "The Garden of Cyrus," etc. Browne
ranges freely from the "quincunx" of the gardens of the ancients to the
highest flights of metaphysical speculation. He is quaint, abrupt, and
singular, but at the same time he is extremely suggestive of thought,
and extends the sphere of human inquiry and sympathy far beyond the
physical limits of most writers of his class. There is also a school of
historians of this age of eminent merit, at the head of which stands
Sir Walter Raleigh with his "History of the World;" Knowles with his
able "History of the Turks;" Daniel with his "History of England" to
the reign of Edward III.; and Thomas May, with the "History of the
Long Parliament," and his "Breviary of the History of Parliament,"
two invaluable works. Camden's "Britannia" and "Annals" appeared at
this epoch. Various chronicles were also issued at this period--Hall's
"Union of the Families of York and Lancaster," Grafton's "Chronicle,"
Holinshed's, and Baker's. The works of Stow and Speed appeared in the
early part of it,--Stow's "Summary of the English Chronicles," in 1565;
his "Annals," 1573; his "Flores Historiarum," an enlarged edition of
his chronicle, 1600; his "Survey of London," 1598. Speed's "Theatre of
the Empire of Great Britain" belongs to 1606; and his "History of Great
Britain" to 1614. Besides these appeared the "Memoirs" of Rushworth.
Thurloe's and Whitelock's were written, but did not appear till a
later period. The commencement of the Long Parliament marked also a
remarkable era, that of the first English newspapers, under the name of
"Diurnals," or daily records of Parliamentary proceedings. The idea
once started, newspapers rapidly spread, so that between the Civil War
and the Restoration, nearly two hundred were published, but none more
frequently than once a week for some time, nor afterwards oftener than
twice or three times a week. It was, moreover, an age of political
tracts and pamphlets. In science the discovery of the circulation of
the blood by Harvey, and the invention of logarithms by Napier, were
the great events of that department. On the whole, the intellectual
development of the age was as great and marvellous as was its political
advance. To no other modern nation can we point, which in one and
the same period has produced three such men as Shakespeare, Milton,
and Bacon, amid a host of lesser, but scarcely less precious lights,
at the same time that it was working out one of the most stupendous
revolutions in human government, and the imperishable principles of
it, that the world has seen. On reviewing this period, well might
Wordsworth exclaim:--

"Great men have been amongst us; hands that penned,
And tongues that uttered wisdom, better none;
The later Sydney, Marvell, Harrington,
Young Vane, and others who called Milton friend.
These moralists could act and comprehend;
They knew how genuine glory is put on;
Taught us how rightfully a nation shone
In splendour."

And well did he add:--

"We must be free, or die, who speak the tongue
That Shakespeare spoke: the faith and morals hold
That Milton held. In everything we are sprung
Of earth's best blood--have titles manifold."

Some of the eminent musical composers already mentioned (_See_ Vol.
II., pp. 378-9) continued to embellish the reign of James. Amongst
these were Ford, Ward, Weelkes, and Orlando Gibbons. The first three
are distinguished for their madrigals, and Weelkes for ballads, which
are unrivalled. Ward's "Die not, Fond Man," is still as popular as
ever. Gibbons composed both madrigals and cathedral music. He was
organist of the Royal Chapel, and was made Doctor of Music by the
University of Oxford. The sacred music of Gibbons is enough of itself
to exempt England from the often advanced charge of being unmusical.
In 1622, Dr. Heyther, a friend of Camden, the antiquary, established
a professorship of music at Oxford. Charles I. was not only fond
of music, but played himself with considerable skill on the _viol
da gamba_. Dr. William Child, himself an excellent composer, was
the organist of his chapel, and Lawes, the friend of Milton, who is
referred to in his sonnets and in "Comus," was patronised by him.
Lawes was greatly admired, and justly, by other poets, especially
Herrick and Waller. Charles I., however, set a bad example, by
encouraging foreign musicians instead of his own subjects. He made
Lanieri, an Italian, a man in real musical science far inferior to
several Englishmen then living, "Master of our Music," and his example
was only too diligently followed by princes and nobles in after times.

[Illustration: WILLIAM HARVEY.]

The rise of the Commonwealth was the fall of music in England. The
stern Puritans, and especially the Scottish Presbyterians, who dubbed
an organ "a kist o' whistles," denounced all music as profane, and
drove organs and orchestras from the churches. Nothing was tolerated
but a simple psalm tune. Cromwell, however, did not partake of
this fanaticism. He was fond of music, and frequently had musical
entertainments at Whitehall and Hampton Court. The great organ which
had been pulled out of Magdalen College, Oxford, he had carefully
conveyed to Hampton Court, where it was one of his greatest solaces.
Under Cromwell the lovers of music brought out their concealed
instruments, and there was once more not only domestic enjoyment of
music, but open musical parties.

[Illustration: REDUCED FACSIMILE OF FRONT PAGE OF NO. 26 OF "A PERFECT
DIURNALL." (_About three-fourths the size of the original._)]

If the Civil War in England was auspicious to liberty, it was
disastrous to art. From the time of Henry VIII. the British monarchs
had shown a decided taste for the arts. Henry had munificently
patronised Holbein, and had made various purchases of foreign
_chefs-d'œuvre_. Prince Henry inherited the taste of his mother,
instead of the coarse buffoonery of his father, and showed a strong
attachment to men of genius and to works of genius. He began a
collection of paintings, bronzes, and medals, which fell to his brother
Charles. Charles was an enthusiast in art, and had he not possessed
his fatal passion for despotism, would have introduced a new era in
England as regarded intellectual and artistic pursuits. The study of
Italian models, both in literature and art, by the aristocracy, enabled
the nobles to embrace the tastes of the monarch; and England would
soon have seen the fine arts flourishing to a degree which they had
never enjoyed before, and which would have prevented the dark ages that
succeeded. During Charles's early rule the greatest artists of the
Continent flocked over to England, and found a liberal reception there.
Rubens, Vandyck, Jansen, Vansomer, Mytens, Diepenbeck, Pölemberg,
Gentileschi, and others visited London, and Vandyck, the greatest of
them all, remained permanently. The works of Vandyck, in England, are
numerous, and if we except his famous picture of "The Crucifixion" at
Mechlin, we possess the best of his productions. At Windsor Castle,
Hampton Court, Blenheim, Wilton House, and Wentworth House, the bulk of
his finest pictures are to be seen. His portraits of our princes and
the chief nobility of the time are familiar to all English eyes, and
place him only second to Titian in that department. At Wilton House
alone there are twenty-five of Vandyck's paintings; the portrait of
Philip, Earl of Pembroke, with his family, is declared by Walpole to
be itself a school of this master. His dramatic portrait of Strafford
and his secretary, Mainwaring, at Wentworth House, Walpole asserts to
be his masterpiece. Charles had proposed to him to paint the history
of the Order of the Garter on the walls of the Banqueting House at
Whitehall, but the sum he demanded--said to be eighty thousand pounds,
but more probably a misprint for eight thousand pounds--caused Charles
to delay it, and his political troubles soon put an end to the scheme.
He painted several pictures of Charles on horseback, one of which is at
Windsor, and another at Hampton Court.

Rubens came to England only as an ambassador, but Charles seized the
opportunity to get him to paint the apotheosis of James, on the ceiling
of the Banqueting House at Whitehall. This he, however, merely sketched
whilst in London and painted it at Antwerp, receiving three thousand
pounds for it. The Duke of Buckingham purchased Rubens's private
collection of pictures, chiefly of the Italian school, but containing
some of his own, for ten thousand pounds. These were sold by the Long
Parliament, and now adorn the palaces of the Escurial at Madrid, and
the Belvedere at Vienna. The large pictures in the latter gallery,
"St. Francis Xavier preaching to the Indians," and "Loyola casting out
Devils," are amongst the very finest of his productions.

Charles, besides making collections, and drawing round him great
artists, projected the establishment of an academy of arts on a
princely scale. But this remained only an idea, through the breaking
out of the Revolution. Parliament, in 1645, caused all such pictures at
Whitehall as contained any representation of the Saviour or the Virgin
to be burnt, and the rest to be sold. Fortunately there were persons
in power who had more rational notions, and much was saved. Cromwell
himself secured the cartoons of Raphael for three hundred pounds, and
thus preserved them to the nation, and as soon as he had the authority,
he put a stop to the sale of the royal collections, and even detained
many pictures that had been sold.

The native artists of this period were chiefly pupils of Rubens or
Vandyck. Jamesone, called the Scottish Vandyck, was a pupil of Rubens
at the same time with Vandyck--Charles sat to him. William Dobson, a
pupil of Vandyck, was serjeant-painter to Charles, and Robert Walker,
of the Vandyck school, was Cromwell's favourite painter, to whom we owe
several admirable portraits of the Protector. There were also several
miniature painters of the highest merit--the two Olivers, Hoskins, and
Cooper.

Up to this period engravings had become by no means prominent in
England. That there had been engravers we know from various books
having been illustrated by them. Geminus and Humphrey Lloyd were
employed by Ortelius, of Antwerp, on his "Theatrum Orbis Terrarum."
Aggas had executed a great plan of London, and Saxon county maps.
Various Flemish and French engravers found employment, as Vostermans,
De Voerst, and Peter Lombard. Hollar, a Bohemian, was employed
extensively till the outbreak of the Civil War, and illustrated Dugdale
and other writers. But the chief English engraver of this period was
John Payne.

Sculpture was by no means in great advance at this period. There were
several foreign artists employed in England on tombs and monuments,
but as they did not at that date put their names upon them, it is
difficult to attribute to every man his own. Amongst these Le Sœur, who
executed the equestrian statue of Charles I. at Charing Cross, Angier,
and Du Val were the chief. John Stone, master mason to the king, was
by far the most skilful native sculptor. Amongst his best efforts are
the monuments of Sir George Holles at Westminster, and the statue of
Sir Finnes Holles, also at Westminster. Sir Dudley Carleton's tomb at
Westminster, and Sutton's tomb at the Charterhouse are also his. But
the greatest boon to sculpture was the introduction at this period, by
the Earl of Arundel, of the remains of ancient art, hence called the
Arundel Marbles.

This was the epoch of the commencement of classical architecture. The
grand old Anglo-Gothic had run its course. It fell with the Catholic
Church, or continued only in a mongrel and degraded state, showing
continually the progress of its decline. From Henry VIII. to James
this state of things continued; the miserable tasteless style, which
succeeded the downfall of the picturesque Tudor, being the only
architecture. The change to the classical was destined to be made by
Inigo Jones, whose is the great name of this period. Jones had studied
in Italy, and became aware of the graceful style which Vitruvius had
introduced by modulation of the ancient Greek and Roman, and which
Palladio had raised to perfection. The merit of Jones is that he
imported Palladio's style substantially and completely, ready as it
was to his hands, and wholly unknown in England. By this means Jones
acquired a reputation for genius to which nothing that he has left
justifies his claim. He was first engaged in designing the scenery and
machinery of the masques which Ben Jonson wrote for the queen of James
I. He was appointed architect to the queen and Prince Henry. On the
death of the prince he went back to Italy, but on his return to London
he was appointed Surveyor-General of the Royal Buildings. The first
thing which he planned was the design for an immense palace for James
on the site of Whitehall. There is a simple grandeur in the drawings
of it which are left, which may fairly entitle him to a reputation
for the introduction of an elegant domestic architecture, although
it does not warrant the extravagant terms of eulogy which have been
lavished on him. The only portion of this palace which was built is
the Banqueting House (afterwards the Chapel Royal) at Whitehall, being
the termination of the great façade, and which contains nothing very
remarkable. Jones added a chapel to Somerset House, and a west front
to St. Paul's, neither of which remains. That he was far from having
conceived the true principles of architecture was shown by the fact
that his west front of Old St. Paul's was a classical one engrafted
on a Gothic building, and this solecism he was continually repeating.
One of the most glaring instances of the kind is a classical screen
which he raised in the Norman Cathedral of Durham. Amongst the chief
remaining buildings of Inigo Jones from which an idea of his talent may
be drawn, are the Piazza and St. Paul's Church, Covent Garden, of which
Quatremere de Quincy says that the most remarkable thing about it is
the reputation that it enjoys; Ashburnham House, Westminster; a house
on the west side of Lincoln's Inn Fields originally built for the Earl
of Lindsay; an addition to St. John's College, Oxford; and by far his
finest work,--if his it be, which is doubtful--Heriot's Hospital at
Edinburgh. He also superintended the erection of Old Greenwich Palace.

The general aspect of the towns and streets remained the same at this
period as in the former. James issued proclamation after proclamation,
ordering the citizens to leave off the half-timbered style, and build
the fronts, at least, entirely of brick or stone; but this was little
attended to, and many a strange old fabric continued to show the
fashions of past ages.

If we are to believe the memoir writers and dramatists of this period,
the national manners and morals had suffered a decided deterioration.
Licentious as was the court of Queen Elizabeth, there was a certain
dignity and outward decorum preserved, but James introduced such
coarseness and grossness of manner, such low debauch and buffoonery,
that even the salutary restraint which fashion had imposed was
stripped away, and all classes exhibited the most revolting features.
In the reign of Henry, Edward, and Elizabeth, we had such women as
the daughters of Sir Thomas More, Lady Jane Grey, Catherine Parr, and
others, who cultivated literature and philosophy, the Queens Mary and
Elizabeth themselves setting the example in reading and translating
the most illustrious classical authors. But after James came in,
notwithstanding all his learned pedantry, you hear nothing more of such
tastes amongst the Court ladies, and it is very singular that amid
that blaze of genius which distinguished the time under review, we
find no traces of feminine genius there. On the contrary, both English
dramatists and foreign writers describe the morals and manners of women
of rank as almost destitute of delicacy and probity. They are described
as mingling with gentlemen in taverns amid tobacco smoke, songs, and
conversation of the most ribald character. They allowed liberties which
would startle women of the lowest rank in these times, were desperate
gamblers, and those who had the opportunity were wholesale dealers in
political influence. Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, boasts of the
effect of the bribes that he was accustomed to distribute amongst them.
Whilst such women as the infamous and murderous Countess of Essex and
the Dowager Countess Villiers were the leading stars of the Court, the
tone of morals must have been low indeed. Whilst the ladies were of
this stamp, we cannot expect the gentlemen to have been better, and
there is no doubt but that the honours and wealth and royal favour
heaped on such men as Somerset, Hay, Ramsay, and Buckingham, made
debauchery and villainy quite fashionable. The character of Englishmen
on their travels, Howell tells us, was expressed in an Italian
proverb:--

"_Inglese Italianato
E Diavolo incarnato._"

"An Italianised Englishman is a devil incarnate." This was said of the
debauched conduct of our young men on their travels. At home they were
a contemptible mixture of foppery and profanity. Buckingham and the
other favourites led the way. We have recorded the audacious behaviour
of Buckingham at the courts of France and Spain, and the enormous
foppery of his apparel. He had a dress of uncut white velvet, covered
all over with diamonds, valued at eighty thousand pounds, a great
feather of diamonds, another dress of purple satin covered with pearls,
valued at twenty thousand pounds, and his sword, girdle, hatbands,
and spurs were thickly studded with diamonds. He had, besides these,
five-and-twenty other dresses of great richness, and his numerous
attendants imitated him according to their means. They began now to
patch their faces with black plaister, because the officers who had
served in the German wars wore such to cover their scars; and the
ladies did the same. Duelling was now introduced, cheating at play was
carried to an immense extent, and the dandy effeminacy of the Cavaliers
was unexampled. They had the utmost contempt of all below them, and
any attempt to assume the style or courtesies of address which they
appropriated to themselves was resented as actual treason. The term
"Master" or "Mr." was used only to great merchants or commoners of
distinction; and to address such as "gentlemen" or "esquires" would
have roused all the ire of the aristocracy. In proceeding through the
streets at night, courtiers were conducted with torches, merchants with
links, and mechanics with lanthorns.

We may imagine the feeling with which the sober and religious Puritans
beheld all this, and the proud contempt with which their strictures
were received. When the Civil War broke out, which was a war of
religious reform as much as of political, the Puritans displayed a
grave manner, a sober dress, and chastened style of speech; and the
Cavaliers, in defiance and contempt, swore, drank, and indulged in
debauchery all the more, to mark their superiority to the "sneaking
Roundhead dogs."

Charles endeavoured to restrain this loose and indecent spirit, but
it was too strong for him; and though the Puritans put it effectually
down during the Commonwealth, it came back in a flood with the lewd and
ribald Charles II. Charles I. also introduced a more tasteful style
of Court pageants and festivities. Under James all the old fantastic
masques and pageantries--in which heathen gods, goddesses, satyrs,
and giants figured--prevailed. Charles gave to his pageantries a
more classical character, but when the Puritans came in they put them
all down, along with Maypoles, and all the wakes, and church-ales,
and the like, which James had encouraged by his "Book of Sports." The
Court festivals, so long as the monarchy remained, were marked by all
the profusion, displays of jewellery, and dresses of cloth of gold
and embroidery, which prevailed in the Tudor times. The old-fashioned
country life, in which the gentlemen hunted and hawked, and the ladies
spent their leisure in giving bread to the poor and making condiments,
preserves, and distilled waters, was rapidly deserted during the gay
days of James and Charles, and the fortune-making of favourites.

Merchants and shopkeepers were growing rich, and though they still
conducted their businesses in warehouses which would appear mean
and miserable to City men of to-day, and in shops with open fronts,
before which the master or one of his apprentices constantly paraded,
crying, "What d'ye lack?" had stately suburban houses, and vied with
the nobles in their furniture and mode of living. The moral condition
of the people of London at this period, according to all sorts of
writers, was something inconceivably frightful. The apprentices, as
we have seen, were a turbulent and excitable race, who had assumed a
right to settle political matters, or to avenge any imagined attack
on their privileges. At the cry of "Clubs!" they seized their clubs
and swords and rushed into the streets to ascertain what was amiss.
They were easily led by their ringleaders against any body or any
authority that was supposed to be invading popular rights. We have
seen them surrounding the Parliament House, demanding such measures
as they pleased, and executing their notions of suitable chastisement
of offenders by setting fire to Laud's house, and breaking down the
benches of the High Commission Court. They were equally ready to
encounter and disperse the constabulary or the City Guard, and to fight
out their quarrels with the Templars, or others with whom they were at
feud.

[Illustration: SHOPKEEPER AND APPRENTICE IN THE TIME OF CHARLES I.
(_See p._ 188.)]

The riots of the apprentices, however, had generally something of a
John-Bullish assertion of right and justice in them; but the streets
and alleys of London were infested with an equally boisterous and
much more villainous crew of thieves and cut-purses. Pocket-picking
was then, as now, taught as a science, and was carried to a wonderful
perfection of dexterity. All kinds of rogueries were practised on
country people, the memory of which remains yet in rural districts,
and is still believed applicable to the metropolis. These vagabonds
had their retreats about the Savoy and the brick-kilns of Islington,
but their headquarters were in a part of Whitefriars called Alsatia,
which possessed the right of sanctuary and swarmed with debtors,
thieves, bullies, and every kind of miscreants, ready on an alarm,
made by the sound of a horn, to turn out in mobs and defend their
purlieus from constables and sheriffs' officers. Walking the streets
in the daytime was dangerous from the affrays often going on between
the apprentices and the students of the Temple, or between the butchers
and weavers, or from the rude jostling and practical jokes of bullies
and swashbucklers; but at night there was no safety except under a
strong guard. Then Alsatia, the Savoy, and the numerous other dens
of vice and violence, poured forth their myrmidons, and after nine
o'clock there was no safety for quiet passengers. If we add to this
description the narrowness of the roads and alleys, the unpaved and
filthy state of the streets, and undrained and ill-ventilated houses,
London was anything at this period but an attractive place. The plague
was a frequent visitant, and we are told that kites and ravens were
much kept to devour the offal and filth of the streets, instead of
scavengers. In the country, things were not much better. The roads
were terrible, and were infested by sturdy bands of robbers. In the
neighbourhood of London, Finchley, Blackheath, Wimbledon, and Shooter's
Hill were places of widespread fame for daring highwaymen. It was
high time for the Puritans to come into power, and to put both town
and country under a more wholesome discipline. Cromwell's soldiers,
quartered in various parts of the metropolis, and his major-generals
administering martial law in different parts of the country, soon
altered the face of things. He shut up Spring Gardens, a place of
nocturnal resort for assignations for traffickers in political
corruption, and for various licentiousness; and instead of fellows
prowling about the streets with sweetmeats in their pockets to kidnap
children, and sell them to the plantations, he sent these scoundrels
freely thither themselves. Amongst the gloomy features of this period
was the relentless persecution of old women, under the belief that
they were witches; a practice commenced by James, but continued by the
Puritans, who sent out Hopkins, the notorious witchfinder, who, in the
years 1645 and 1646, traversed the country, condemning and putting to
death hundreds of them, till he himself was accused of being a wizard,
and was subjected to the same fate. From 1640 to the Restoration, four
thousand persons are said to have perished under charge of witchcraft.
In Scotland this terrible practice was carried on with even aggravated
cruelties, in order to extort confession.

The sports of the aristocracy, gentry, and merchants were much the
same that they had been hitherto. Hunting was the favourite pastime
of James, and therefore was not likely to be neglected by the country
gentry. He was also fond of hawking, and kept alive that pastime,
which was dying out, some time longer. Ball games had much superseded
the jousts and tournaments of other days. Tennis retained its high
favour, and billiards and pall-mall, or striking a ball through a ring
suspended to a pole, were becoming fashionable. Bowling, cards, dice,
dancing, masques, balls, and musical entertainments varied town life.
The common people stuck to their foot-ball, quoits, pitching the bar,
cricket, shovel-board, bull- and bear-baiting, and cock-fighting.
The Puritans put down May-games, Whitsun-ales, morrice-dances,
and all amusements that savoured of a Catholic origin. They also
humanely suppressed, as far as they could, the savage sports of
bear and bull-baiting. Pride and Hewson killed all the bears at the
bear-garden to put an end to that cruel pastime, and thence originated
Butler's "Hudibras." The bowling-greens of the English were famous,
and horse-racing was much in vogue. In Scotland the Reformation put
to flight all sorts of games, dancing, and merry-makings, as sinful
and unbecoming of Christians, and polemic discussions were the only
excitements which relieved the ascetic gloom.

The interiors of houses were in this period greatly embellished, and
the splendour of hangings of beds and windows had strikingly increased.
Rich velvets and silks embroidered with cloth of gold and cloth of
silver, and coloured satins of the most gorgeous hues abounded. The
cushions of couches and chairs were equally costly, and instead of the
ancient tapestry, paper and leather hangings, richly stamped and gilt,
covered the walls. The Flemish artists had been called in to paint the
ceilings with historical or mythological scenes, and on the walls hung
the masterpieces of Flemish and Italian art. Carpets were beginning
to supersede rushes on the floors, but were more commonly used as
coverings for tables. In addition to the carved cabinets of oak, ebony,
and ivory, and the richly-covered cushioned and high-backed chairs of
the Tudor dynasty, Flemish and Dutch furniture of somewhat formal but
still elegant design abounded. Superb ornaments of ivory and china had
found their way from the East, and became heirlooms in great mansions.
Altogether, the houses of the wealthy of those times presented a scene
of stately elegance and luxury that has not since been surpassed.

The costume of the reign of James was but a continuation of that of
Elizabeth. The men still wore the stiff plated ruff, occasionally
varied by a plain horizontal one with lace on its edges. The long
peasecod-bellied doublet continued, and the large stuffed Gallic or
Venetian hose, slashed and quilted, had assumed more preposterous
dimensions from James's timidity; he having both these and the doublets
quilted to resist the stabs of the stiletto. Towards the end of his
reign a change was noticeable. Instead of the long-waisted doublet
there were short jackets, with false hanging sleeves behind; the trunk
hose were covered with embroidered straps, tucked short at the thigh,
and the hose gartered below the knee. We are told how they covered
their cloaks and dresses with jewels on State occasions. They wore
feathers at such times in their hats. Taylor, the Water Poet, says the
gallants of his time

"Wore a farm in shoestrings edged with gold,
And spangled garters worth a copyhold;
A hose and doublet which a lordship cost,
A gaudy cloak, three mansions' price almost;
A beaver band and feather for the head,
Prized at the church's tithe, the poor man's bread."

The old cloth stockings were obsolete, and stockings of silk, thread,
or worsted used.

The ladies of the Court were still in the stiff Elizabethan
farthingale, elevated collar, and hair dressed in the lofty style. Anne
of Denmark was Elizabeth over again. But in domestic life we find the
ladies attired in a far more natural style, without the farthingale,
with falling collars, plain or edged with lace, and the hair with
ringlets falling on each side; and this simple and more elegant fashion
became at length universal in Charles's reign.

The male costume of Charles's time was extremely elegant. At the
commencement of the Civil War no contrast could be greater than that
of the appearance of the Cavaliers and the Roundheads. The Cavalier
dress consisted of a doublet of silk, satin, or velvet, with large
loose sleeves slashed up the front, the collar covered by a falling
band of the richest point lace, with Vandyck edging. The long breeches,
fringed or pointed met the tops of the wide boots, which were also
commonly ruffled with lace or lawn. A broad Flemish beaver hat, with a
rich hatband and plume of feathers, was set on one side of the head,
and a Spanish rapier hung from a most magnificent baldrick, or sword
belt, worn sash-wise over the right shoulder, and on one shoulder was
worn a short cloak with an air of carelessness. In war this short cloak
was exchanged generally for the buff coat, which was also richly laced,
and sometimes embroidered with gold and silver, and round the waist was
worn a broad silk or satin scarf tied in a large bow behind or over the
hip; or a buff jerkin without sleeves was worn over the doublet, and
the lace or lawn on the boots dispensed with. The beard was worn very
peaked, with small upturned moustaches, and the hair long and flowing
on the shoulders. In contrast to this the Parliamentarians wore their
hair cut short--whence the name of Roundhead--and studied a sober cut
and colour of clothes. The first appearance of Cromwell in Parliament,
described by Sir Philip Warwick, has been taken as a sufficient
specimen of his costume when Protector. But Cromwell was then but a
gentleman-farmer, and appeared in careless rustic habit. "I came one
morning into the House," says Warwick, "well clad, and perceived a
gentleman speaking whom I knew not, very ordinarily apparelled, for
it was a plain cloth suit, which seemed to have been made by an ill
country tailor. His hat was without a hatband." But no one knew better
than Cromwell what was necessary to the decorum of station, and very
different is the account of his appearance when going to be sworn
Protector. "His Highness was in a plain but rich suit, black velvet,
with cloak of the same; about his hat a broad band of gold."

The ladies' dresses of Charles's time rapidly changed from the stiff
ruffs and farthingales to a more natural and elegant style. With Mrs.
Turner, their introducer, went out in James's time the yellow starch
ruffs and bands, for she appeared, when hanged for her share in Sir
Thomas Overbury's murder, in her own yellow ornaments at the gallows.
But all ruffs grew obsolete in Charles's reign, and a lady of that
day would scarcely be distinguished from a lady of this. The hair was
dressed much as in modern manner, the dress fell naturally without
hoops, and the broad collar lay gracefully on the shoulders. The
citizens' and Puritans' wives, as well as country women, wore the broad
high-crowned hat, and country women appeared still in plaited ruff, and
a muffler over the mouth in cold weather, tied up to the back of the
head. A lady had generally her feather fan in her hand, as the modern
one has her parasol.

Armour was fast disappearing; it was of little use against cannon and
matchlocks. James thought armour a very good invention, for it hindered
a man as much from hurting his enemy as it defended himself. But in
his time little but a cuirass for the body and a helmet or bonnet was
used. To the rest for the heavy matchlock in this reign was affixed
a long rapier blade, called a "swine's feather," or "bristle," and
used as a soldier now uses the bayonet. In the Civil War most of the
officers wore only a cuirass over a buff coat; and though some of
the infantry were almost fully sheathed in armour, it was soon found
to be too cumbersome for rapid movements, and with the exception
of the cuirassiers, who were clad in armour except the legs, they
were seldom defended by more than a back- and breast-plate, and a
head-piece. During the war the cavalry was divided into cuirassiers,
lancers, arquebusiers, carbineers, and dragoons, according to the
different weapon or armour which they carried,--the cuirass, the
lance, the musket, the heavy arquebus, the carbine, or the dragon, a
sort of blunderbuss. At this period the firelock was introduced by
the poultry-stealers of Holland, and called after them the snaphance,
or hen-stealer. The superiority of the flint-lock over the match- or
cumbrous wheel-lock was soon seen and adopted.

The moral condition of the people, as we have just seen, was at this
period deplorable. The neglect of education left the bulk of the
working class ignorant and depraved, and the long peace which the
reigns of Elizabeth and James maintained had so greatly augmented the
wealth and prosperity of the nation, that the insolence of illiterate
abundance added to the public exhibition of rudeness and riot. In
one respect, however, the whole people had become enlightened--they
had learned very extensively their political rights. The rise and
opulence of the merchants and middle classes, through commerce and
through the confiscation of Church lands, had impressed them with a
feeling of their importance, and led them no longer to bow and cringe
before the nobles, but to claim their proper authority as the third,
and, indeed, the greatest estate. From the time when Henry VIII. set
agoing discussions regarding religious liberty, and permitted the Bible
to appear in good plain English, the light which sprang up on the
subject of human rights was wonderful, and could never be withdrawn
or extinguished. The mistake, as regarded royal prerogative, was soon
seen, and an endeavour was made to limit the reading of the Bible to
the nobles and the learned only, but it was in vain. Those who had the
Scriptures soon spread abroad knowledge of their great principles,
and as the Stuart government was daily found to be weaker, the sense
of popular right was growing stronger and more general. So soon as
Parliament began to resist the encroachments of the Crown, and even to
do it with arms in their hands, it became necessary to convince the
people at large that their rights were at stake, and to explain what
these rights were. Such knowledge as this could never be taken back
again, and accordingly from this period the principle that all power
proceeds from the people and exists for the people, became the great
fixed sentiment of the nation.

The physical condition of the kingdom, therefore, during the reign
of James, was evidently much improved, and almost justifies the
glowing description of Clarendon, made to set off the mischiefs of
resistance to royalty. "For twelve years before the meeting of the
Long Parliament," he says, "the kingdom enjoyed the greatest calm and
the fullest measure of felicity that any people, in any age, for so
long a time together, had been blessed with, to the wonder and envy
of all other parts of Christendom." It was inevitable that much of
this prosperity must be overthrown, or rather interrupted by a ten
years' fierce contest, like that which arose between the Crown and the
people. That the people were not only severely pressed by taxation to
support this contest, but that they were harassed, plundered, and had
their agricultural operations impeded, and their crops destroyed by
the combatants is certain. Consequently, during the great struggle,
the price of country produce rose extremely. Wheat, which in the early
part of Charles's reign was as low as 44s. a quarter, rose after 1640
to 73s.; to 85s. in 1648; and in 1649 it was 80s.; but no sooner was
the Commonwealth established, and peaceful operations were renewed,
than it fell as rapidly, being, in 1650, 76s. 8d., and falling so much
that in 1654 it was down to 26s. This was the lowest, and it averaged
during the remainder of the Protectorate, 45s., as nearly as possible
its price at the commencement of the war. Other articles of life rose
and fell from the same causes in the same proportion; the prices of
the following articles, except during the War, may be regarded as the
average ones for this period:--A fat cygnet, about 8s.; pheasants,
from 5s. to 6s.; turkeys, 3s. to 4s.; fat geese, 2s. each; ducks, 8d.;
best fatted capons, 2s. 4d.; hens, 1s.; pullets, 1s. 6d.; rabbits,
7d.; a dozen pigeons, 6s.; eggs, three for 1d.; fresh butter, 6d.
per pound. Vegetables, being so little cultivated, were very dear:
cauliflowers, 1s. 6d. each; potatoes, 2s. per pound; onions, leeks,
carrots, and potherbs, dear, but not quite so high-priced. Mutton and
beef were about 3-1/2d. per pound. The wages of servants hired by the
year and kept, were, for a farm servant man, from 20s. to 50s. a year,
according to his qualifications; those obtaining more than 40s. were
expected to be able to do all the skilled work, as mowing, threshing,
thatching, making ricks, hedging, and killing cattle and pigs for
daily consumption. Women servants, who could bake, brew, dress meat,
make malt, etc., obtained about 26s. a year, and other women servants,
according to age and ability, from that sum down to 14s. a year. A
bailiff obtained 52s. Labourers, or artisans hired by the day, during
harvest, had, a mower, 5d. a day and his food; a reaper, haymaker,
hedger, or ditcher, 4d.; a woman reaper, 3d.; a woman haymaker, 2d.;
if no food was given these sums were doubled. At other times labourers
received from Easter to Michaelmas, 3d. a day with food, or 7d.
without; and from Michaelmas to Easter, 2d. with food, and 6d. without.
Carpenters and bricklayers received 8d. a day with meat, or 1s.
without; sawyers, 6d. with meat, or 1s. without; and other handicrafts
nearly the same, through the year till Michaelmas, after that much less.

The great extension of foreign commerce, and the introduction of
coffee, spices, cottons, and other new tropical produce, increased
the comfort of domestic life. Yet, with all this prosperity, there
still abounded much pauperism and vagabondism. The war naturally had
this consequence--great numbers of the dispersed Cavaliers and royal
troopers taking to the highways, and to a loose and predatory life.
Many parishes, too, were not disposed to burden themselves with the
imposition of the poor laws, which had been strengthened by various
enactments since the 43rd of Elizabeth, and they therefore drove out
of their boundaries the unemployed to seek work elsewhere. This but
increased the vagabondism and pilfering, and time alone could enable
the Government to bring the poor-law into general operation.

[Illustration: GREAT SEAL OF CHARLES II.]

CHAPTER VII.

CHARLES II.

Charles II. did not want sense. He was naturally clever, witty, and
capable of a shrewd insight into the natures and purposes of men. He
gave proof of all these qualities in the observation which we have
recorded, at the close of the day when he was restored to his paternal
mansion, that everybody assured him that they had always ardently
desired his return, and that if they were to be believed, there was
nobody in fault for his not having come back sooner but himself. Yet,
with many qualities, which, if united to a fine moral nature, would
have made him a most popular monarch, he was utterly destitute of
this fine moral nature. He had had much, long, and varied experience
of mankind, and had alternately seen their base adulation of royalty
in power, and their baser treatment of princes in misfortune. But
Charles had not the nobility to benefit by this knowledge. He had
familiarised himself with every species of vice and dissipation. He was
become thoroughly heartless and degraded. His highest ambition was to
live, not for the good and glory of his kingdom, but for mere sensual
indulgence. He was habituated to a life of the lowest debauchery,
and surrounded by those who were essentially of the same debased and
worthless character. To such a man had the nation--after all its
glorious struggles and triumphs for the reduction of the lawless pride
of royalty, and after the decent and rigorous administration of the
Commonwealth--again surrendered its fate and fortunes, and surrendered
them without almost any guarantee. The declaration of Breda was the
only security which it had, and that was rendered perfectly nugatory
by the reservation of all decisions on those questions to a Parliament
which the Court could control and corrupt.

Monk presented to the king a paper containing a list of names of such
persons as he professed to consider to be the most eligible for the
royal service either in the Council or the Ministry. But Clarendon,
who was the king's great adviser, having adhered to him and his
interests ever since his escape to the Continent, perused the catalogue
with no little surprise. It consisted, he tells us, "of the principal
persons of the Presbyterian party, to which Monk was thought to be
most inclined, at least to satisfy the foolish and unruly inclinations
of his wife. There were likewise the names of some who were most
notorious in all the factions; and of some who, in respect of their
mean qualities and meaner qualifications, nobody could imagine how they
came to be named." They were, in fact, such as had been thrust on Monk
by the Parliamentary leaders, who were all striving to secure their
own interests; not even the Presbyterians foreseeing how severely they
were punishing themselves by the restoration of the monarchy. Monk,
on the Chancellor's remonstrance as to many of these names--amongst
which only those of the Marquis of Hertford and the Earl of Southampton
belonged to men who had at all adhered to the Royal cause--soon let him
into the secret, that they were such as had importuned him to do them
good offices with the king, and that he never intended to do more than
forward the paper, and leave the king to do as he pleased. Clarendon
soon, therefore, made out a very different list of names for the Privy
Council, though he found it politic to insert almost as many names
of Presbyterians as of Royalists, but with the purpose of gradually
changing them.

The first Privy Council of Charles, therefore, consisted of the king's
brothers, the Dukes of York and Gloucester, the Marquis of Ormond,
the Earls of Lindsay, Southampton, Manchester, St. Albans, Berkshire,
Norwich, Leicester, and Northumberland, the Marquises of Hertford
and Dorchester, Lords Saye and Sele, Seymour, Colepepper, Wentworth,
Roberts, and Berkeley, Sir Frederick Cornwallis, Sir George Carteret,
Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper, Sir Edward Nicholas, General Monk, and
Morrice, his creature, who had assisted in the negotiations with the
king, Colonel Charles Howard, Arthur Annesley, Denzil Holles, and
Montague, general, or rather admiral, for as yet no distinctly naval
officer was known--military commanders fought both on sea and land.

Amongst these Clarendon was Lord Chancellor and Prime Minister, the
Duke of York was already appointed Lord High Admiral, to which was
now added the Wardenship of the Cinque Ports and other offices. Sir
Edward Nicholas and Morrice were joint Secretaries of State; the
Earl of Southampton was made Lord Treasurer, the Marquis of Ormond
Lord Steward, and the Earl of Manchester Lord Chamberlain. Monk was
appointed Commander-in-Chief of all the forces in the three kingdoms,
according to stipulation, and to this office was now added Master of
the Horse, and he was created Duke of Albemarle, in addition to several
inferior titles. His wife, who was originally a milliner, and after
that had been his mistress, now figured boldly and ambitiously amongst
the ladies of the Court.

The Parliament, both Lords and Commons, lost no time in seizing all
such of the late king's judges as survived or were within the kingdom.
The Parliament, which had no proper election--having been summoned by
no lawful authority, but at Monk's command, and had obtained the name
of Convention Parliament--passed an Act, which Charles authenticated,
to legalise themselves, notwithstanding which it was still called by
the old name of the Convention. Before the king could arrive, however,
they had seized Clement, one of the king's judges, and ordered the
seizure of the goods and estates of all the other regicides. On the
king's arrival Denzil Holles and the Presbyterians--whose resentment
against the Independents, who had so often put them out of Parliament,
was blinded by desire of vengeance to the fact that the Royalists would
not be long in turning on them who had done their best to dethrone
Charles I., though they had not joined in putting him to death--now
went in a body to Whitehall, and throwing themselves at Charles's feet,
confessed that they were guilty of the horrid crime of rebellion,
and implored the king's grace and pardon. Charles affected the most
magnanimous clemency, and advised them to pass a Bill of Indemnity,
which he had promised from Breda. But this apparent liberality was
only the necessary step to the completion of his vengeance, for the
declaration left to Parliament such exceptions as it thought proper;
and in the present complying mood of Parliament, these exceptions would
be just as numerous as the Court required. Monk had, in negotiating
with Charles and Clarendon, recommended that only four should be
excepted, but Clarendon and the king had long made up their minds that
few of the king's judges should escape; and in this they were boldly
urged on by the Royalists, who, says Clarendon, could not bear to
meet the men on the king's highways, now they were the king's again,
who rode on the very horses they had plundered them of, and had their
houses and estates in possession.

The Commons were as ready as the Court for vengeance against their
late successful rivals and masters; and though Monk again urged that
not more than seven should be excepted on a capital charge, they
decided that ten should be tried for their lives, namely, Scott,
Holland, Lisle, Barkstead, Harrison, Saye, Jones, Coke, the solicitor,
Broughton, clerk to the High Court of Justice, and Dendy, who had acted
as serjeant-at-arms during the trial. They then requested the king to
order by proclamation all those concerned in his late father's trial to
surrender themselves within fourteen days. About a score felt it much
the safest to escape across the sea, but nineteen surrendered--all,
but the ten doomed to death, imagining they should escape with some
minor punishment. But the thirst for vengeance became every day more
violent. The Commons named twenty more for exception, whose lives
were to be spared, but who were to suffer forfeiture of estate and
perpetual imprisonment. These were Vane, St. John, Haselrig, Ireton,
brother of the deceased major-general, Desborough, Lambert, Fleetwood,
Axtel, Sydenham, Lenthall, Burton, Keeble, Pack, Blackwell, Pyne,
Deane, Creed, Nye, Goodwin, and Cobbett. Moreover, all such as had not
surrendered to the late proclamation were excluded from the benefit of
the Bill of Indemnity.

This sanguinary list, however, did not satisfy the Lords when the
Bill was sent up to them. They had suffered such indignities from the
Independent leaders, that they could not bring themselves to forgive,
and they altered the Bill, voting that every man who had sat on the
king's trial, or signed the death-warrant, should be tried as a traitor
for his life. They went even further, and excepted six others, who
had neither sat nor voted--namely, Vane, Hacker, Lambert, Haselrig,
Axtel, and Peters; and, as if luxuriating in revenge, they allowed the
relatives of several of their own body who had been put to death under
the Commonwealth, amongst whom were the Earl of Derby and the Duke
of Hamilton, to sit as judges. The Commons accepted the Bill as thus
altered, and would have made it still more atrocious, but Charles, who
was extremely pressed for money, sent desiring them to come to an end
with this Bill, and hasten the money Bill.

The Commons voted the king seventy thousand pounds a month for present
necessities, and then proceeded to pass not only the Indemnity Bill,
but to vote the king a liberal permanent revenue. In striking contrast
to the early Parliaments of his father, they at once gave him the
tonnage and poundage for life. Although this was one of the chief
causes of the quarrel between Charles I. and his Parliament, and one
of the main causes of the war and of his decapitation, this Parliament
yielded the point at once. They, moreover, ordered that the army, of
which Charles was afraid, should be disbanded, and that the 29th of
May should be kept as a day of perpetual thanks giving to Providence,
for having restored his majesty to the nation. All these favours to
Charles they offered with the humility of men who were seeking favours
for themselves, and being urged by Charles to settle the amount of
his revenue altogether, they appointed a committee of inquiry on the
subject, which decided that, as the income of his father had been about
one million one hundred thousand pounds, his income should, considering
the different value of money, be fixed at the unexampled sum of one
million two hundred thousand pounds per annum. This income was to be
settled by a Bill in the next session.

The question of religion, and the question of forfeited property,
whether belonging to the Crown, the Church, or individuals, was next
brought on, and led to most stormy discussions. The result was that two
Bills were passed, called the Bill of Sales and the Ministers Bill.
By the Bill of Sales all the Crown lands were ordered to be restored
forthwith; but the Church lands were left in abeyance for the present;
the lands of individuals were also deferred to a future session. The
Ministers Bill was intended to expel from the pulpits of the Church all
such ministers as had been installed there since the Parliament came
into power. It did not, however, give satisfaction to the Church, for
it admitted all such as entered on livings legally vacant at the time
to retain them. A considerable number of Presbyterian clergymen thus
remained in possession, but the Independents were thoroughly excited by
a clause which provided that all ministers who had not been ordained by
an ecclesiastic, who had interfered in the matter of infant baptism, or
had been concerned in the trial of the king, or in its justification
from press or pulpit, should be excluded. Thus the Royalists were
incensed at the Bill of Sales, which they called an indemnity Bill for
the king's enemies, and of oblivion for his friends, and the clergy of
the Church were equally enraged to see a great number of livings still
left to the Presbyterians.

On the 13th of September Charles prorogued the Parliament till the 6th
of November, and promised during the recess to have what was called
the "healing question of religion," that is, the settlement of the
Church, discussed by competent parties, and to publish a declaration
on the subject. Accordingly the Presbyterians were very soon promised
a meeting with some of the Episcopalian clergy, and they were quite
willing, seeing that they could no longer have matters their own way in
the Church, to accept a platform of compromise laid down by Archbishop
Ussher before his death, in which scheme the Church was to be governed
by a union of suffragan bishops and synods or presbyteries, so as to
unite the two great sects. But the foremost prelates and clergy of the
Episcopalian Church, who were resolved to have the whole State Church
to themselves, would listen to nothing so liberal or unorthodox. They
refused to meet the Presbyterian clergy, and therefore Charles summoned
the leaders of this sect to meet some of his chief privy councillors
and ministers, as well as various bishops, at Whitehall, where Baxter
and Calamy again proposed Ussher's scheme, which was as zealously
rejected by the Episcopalians. The Presbyterians quoted the Eikon
Basilike, to show that Charles I. was favourable to Ussher's plan, but
Charles, who knew very well that the book was Dr. Gauden's, and not
his father's, drily remarked that all in that work was not gospel.
But what proved a complete damper to all parties, was a proposal read
by Clarendon as having the king's approbation, namely, that others,
besides the two parties in question, should have full liberty for
religious worship, and should not be disturbed by magistrate or peace
officer, provided they themselves did not disturb the peace. This
was at once felt to mean toleration to the Catholics as well as the
Nonconformists, and was received with silent repugnance.

On the 25th of October was issued the promised declaration for healing
the strife. It went to unite the Presbyterian form of government with
the Episcopal. There were to be presbyteries and synods, and no bishop
was to ordain ministers or exercise the censures of the Church without
the advice and assistance of the presbyteries. Presbyters were to be
elected deans and canons; a number of divines of each sect were to be
chosen by the king to revise the Liturgy, and all points of difference
should be left unsettled till this revision was made; and no person
should be molested on account of taking the Sacrament standing or
kneeling, for making or not making the sign of the cross in baptism,
for bowing or not bowing at the name of Jesus, for wearing or not
wearing the surplice. The Presbyterians were delighted at the prospect
thus afforded of free admission to good livings and dignities; but the
Episcopalians intended nothing less than that any such thing should
ever come to pass.

With more earnest intention the Government proceeded to judge the
Regicides, and soon stepped up to the knees in blood. On the 9th of
October the trials commenced at the Old Bailey, before thirty-four
Commissioners appointed for the purpose. True bills were found against
twenty-nine of the prisoners--namely, Sir Hardress Waller, Harrison,
Carew, Cook, Hugh Peters, Scott, Clement, Scrope, Jones, Hacker, Axtel,
Heveningham, Marten, Millington, Tichbourne, Row, Kilburn, Harvey,
Pennington, Smith, Downes, Potter, Garland, Fleetwood, Meyn, J. Temple,
P. Temple, Hewlet, and Waite.

The first man tried was Waller, who pleaded guilty, and had his life
spared; the second was Harrison, the late Major-General. Harrison was
a sincere and honest Fifth-Monarchy man. He said, "I humbly conceive
that what was done, was done in the name of the Parliament of England;
that what was done, was done by their power and authority; and I do
humbly conceive it is my duty to offer unto you in the beginning,
that this court, or any court below the High Court of Parliament,
hath no jurisdiction of their actions." But all argument was useless
addressed to such ears. Sir Orlando Bridgeman, Chief Baron of the
Exchequer, who had the management of the trials, told the grand jury
in his charge that no authority whatever, either of a single person
or of Parliament, had any coercive power over the king. This man had
received very different treatment under the Protectorate. He had
submitted to Cromwell, who had not only accepted his submission, but
had allowed him privately to practise the law, and in this capacity he
had acted as spy and agent for Cromwell. He continually interrupted
Scott, Carew, and others, when they justified their conduct on the
same ground of Parliamentary sanction. The people, notwithstanding
their late acclamations, could not help raising loud murmurs at these
arbitrary interruptions. The prisoners defended themselves with calm
intrepidity, and when Bridgeman retorted on Carew that the Parliament
that he talked of was the Commons alone, a thing without precedent,
Carew replied, "there never was such a war, or such a precedent;" and
he boldly upbraided Bridgeman with giving evidence as a witness whilst
sitting as a judge. All these were condemned to death. The clever and
facetious Harry Marten made a most ingenious and persevering defence,
and extremely puzzled the Commissioners. He took exception to the
indictment, declaring that he was not even mentioned in it. When he was
shown the name Henry Marten, he objected that that was not his name,
which was _Harry_ Marten. This was overruled, but he went on to plead
that the statute of Henry VIII. exempted from high treason any one
acting under a king _de facto_, though he should not be king _de jure_;
that the Parliament at that time was the supreme power, including the
functions of both king and Parliament; that it was, in fact, the only
authority there was in the country; and that it had from age to age
been contended and admitted that God indicated the rightful power by
giving it victory. Such was the authority that God at the time had set
over them, and under that they had acted. His arguments were thrown
away, and it was on this occasion that the absurd story--a typical
example of many other silly stories that continued to be circulated
for generations--was first given in evidence by a soldier, of him and
Cromwell, on the signing of the death-warrant of the king, wiping their
pens on each other's faces.

[Illustration: CHARLES II.]

After a trial in which every ingenious and valid plea was advanced
by the prisoners to deaf ears, all were condemned to death, but ten
only were at present executed--Harrison, Scott, Carew, Jones, Clement,
Scrope, Coke, Axtel, Hacker, and Hugh Peters, Cromwell's chaplain.
Peters, by his enthusiasm and wild eloquence, had undoubtedly roused
the spirit of the Parliamentarians, and especially of the army, but
he had had no particular concern in the king's death, and had often
exerted himself to obtain mercy and kind treatment not only for the
king, but for suffering Royalists. He declared on the trial that he had
never been influenced by interest or malice in all that he had done;
that he never received a farthing from Cromwell for his services; and
that he had no hand in exciting the war, for he was abroad fourteen
years, and found the war in full action on his return. Peters, whose
character has been greatly maligned by the Cavaliers and their
historians, appears really to have been a sincere and upright patriot;
but his pleas were as useless as those of all the others.

Harrison was drawn first to Charing Cross on a hurdle. His conduct
was cheerful and even animated, as with triumph he declared that many
a time he had begged the Lord, if He had any hard, any reproachful,
or contemptible service to be done by His people, that he might be
employed in it; and that now his prayers were answered. Several times
he cried out as he was drawn along, that he suffered in the most
glorious cause in the world; and when a low wretch asked him, "Where's
your good old cause now?" he replied, "Here it is!" clapping his hand
on his heart, "and I am going to seal it with my blood." He was put
to death with all the horrors of the most barbarous times, cut down
alive, his bowels torn out whilst he was alive, and then his quivering
heart held up to the people. Charles witnessed this revolting scene
at a little distance, and yet that heartless man let the whole of the
condemned suffer the same bloody barbarities. They all went to their
hideous death with the same heroic spirit, and in order to daunt the
old preacher, Hugh Peters, he was taken to see the hanging, drawing,
and quartering of Coke, but it only seemed to animate him the more. The
effect of this and of the addresses of the undaunted Regicides from
the scaffold was such, that the people began to show evident disgust
of these cruelties; and when Scott's turn came, the executioners
endeavoured to drown his words, so that he said it must be a very bad
cause that could not hear the words of a dying man. But the words and
noble courage of these dying men, Bishop Burnet observes, "their show
of piety, their justifying all they had done, not without a seeming joy
for their suffering on that account, caused the king to be advised not
to proceed further, or at least not to have the scene so near the Court
as Charing Cross."

About a month before Harrison's execution, the Duke of Gloucester died
of small-pox; and scarcely were the royal shambles closed for awhile
when the Princess of Orange, who had come over to congratulate her
brother, the king, died of small-pox, too. "At Court," says Pepys,
"things are in very ill condition, there being so much emulation,
poverty, and the vices of drinking, swearing, and loose amours, that
I know not what will be the end of it but confusion; and the clergy
are so high that all people that I meet with do protest against their
practice." Sober people must have looked back with a strange feeling
to the earnest and manly times of the Protectorate. But death and
marriage merriments were oddly mingled in this bacchanalian Court. The
daughter of old Clarendon, Ann Hyde, was married to the Duke of York,
and was delivered of a son just six weeks afterwards. The queen-mother
(Henrietta Maria), the Princess of Orange, and the Princess Henrietta,
were violently opposed to so unroyal a marriage, but the old Chancellor
had the influence with Charles to carry it through, and, instead of a
disgrace, to convert it into a triumph. The wily politician pretended
himself to have been not only grossly deceived in the matter, but to
be intensely angry, and told Charles, according to his own account in
his autobiography, on hearing the news, that if the marriage had really
taken place, he would advise that "the king should immediately cause
the woman to be sent to the Tower, and to be cast into a dungeon, under
so strict a guard, that no living person should be permitted to come to
her; and then that an Act of Parliament should be immediately passed
for cutting off her head, to which he would not only give his consent,
but would very willingly be the first to propose it." This picture of
the heroism of a savage, however, ill agrees with the accounts of the
Chancellor's real concern in the matter. Evelyn, in his diary, says,
"The queen would fain have undone it, but it seems that matters were
reconciled on great offers of the Chancellor's to befriend her, who was
so much in debt, and was now to have the settlement of her affairs go
through his hands." Accordingly, about six weeks after the arrival of
Henrietta Maria at Whitehall the marriage was publicly acknowledged.

Amid all these disgraceful transactions Parliament met on the 6th
of November, 1660. They proceeded to pass into a Bill the king's
"healing declaration" regarding religion. The Presbyterians were in
high spirits, but they were soon made to feel their folly in bringing
back the Episcopalian Church with its Episcopalian head. The clergy
were not so high for nothing. They knew very well what the king would
do when the matter was pressed to an issue, and accordingly the
expectant Presbyterians found the Court party not only voting, but
openly speaking against the Bill. Morrice, the creature of Monk, and
now Secretary of State, and Heneage Finch, the Solicitor-General,
strenuously opposed it, Finch not scrupling to avow that "it was not
the king's desire that the Bill should proceed." It was thrown out,
and the duped Presbyterians, instead of being persecutors, found
persecution let loose upon _them_. The Convention Parliament, having
satisfied the Court in this measure, on the 8th of December voted the
attainder of Oliver Cromwell, Ireton, and Bradshaw, and, having got
this sanction, on the 30th of January, 1661, the Court, under cover
of the clergy's pious zeal, sent a rabble of constables to tear open
the graves of these great Regicides, to drag their decaying corpses
to Tyburn on hurdles, to hang them, to cut them down and behead them,
and then, throwing their putrid bodies into a hole under the gallows,
to stick their heads on poles on the top of Westminster Hall. They
proceeded to perpetrate the same revolting atrocities on the bodies
of innocent and virtuous women, and on some of the most illustrious
men of our annals. The remains of the brave old mother of Cromwell;
of his amiable daughter, Lady Claypole; of Dorislaus, the envoy of
the Parliament who had been murdered by the retainers of this Charles
II. at the Hague; of May, the historian of the Parliament, and the
excellent translator of Lucan's "Pharsalia;" of Pym, the great and
incorruptible champion of English liberty; and of Blake, the most
famous admiral that the country had yet produced, whose name alone gave
it a world-wide renown, were dragged forth out of their resting-places.
These, and every other body which had been buried in the Abbey whilst
the Commonwealth lasted, were flung into a pit in St. Margaret's
churchyard.

The settlement of the revenue by the Convention Parliament was more
successful than the legislation with regard to the Church. It was
determined at all events to get rid of the vexatious duties of feudal
tenure; for, though they had long ceased to have any real meaning,
fines were still executed on alienation of property, and reliefs
exacted on the accession to his property of each new Crown tenant.
Minors were still wards of the Crown, and were still liable to the
odious necessity of marrying at the will of their guardian. All these
claims of the Crown were now abolished. Their place was supplied,
not as might naturally be supposed by a land-tax, but by an excise
upon beer and other liquors, the landed interests thus finding means
to shift the burden upon the shoulders of the whole nation. The sum
at which the revenue was fixed was one million two hundred thousand
pounds a year.

This great bargain having been completed at the close of the year,
the Convention Parliament was dissolved. The year 1661 opened with a
Fifth-Monarchy riot. Though Harrison and some others of that faith
were put to death, and others, as Overton, Desborough, Day, and
Courtenay, were in the Tower, there were secret conventicles of these
fanatics in the City, and one of these in Coleman Street was headed
by a wine-cooper of the name of Venner, who, as we have already seen,
gave Cromwell trouble in his time. On the night of the 6th of January,
Venner, with fifty or sixty other enthusiasts, rushed from their
conventicle, where he had been counselling his followers not to preach,
but to act. They marched through the City towards St. Paul's, calling
on the people to come forth and declare themselves for King Jesus. They
drove some of the train-bands before them, broke the heads of opposing
watchmen, but were at length dispersed by the Lord Mayor, supported by
the citizens, and fled to Caen Wood, between Highgate and Hampstead.
On the 9th, however, they returned again, confident that no weapons
or bullets could harm them, and once more they put the train-bands
and the king's life-guards to the rout. At length, however, they were
surrounded, overpowered, and, after a considerable number were killed,
sixteen were taken prisoners, including Venner himself. He and eleven
others were hanged, the rest being acquitted for want of evidence.
Pepys says there were five hundred of the insurgents, and their cry
was, "The King Jesus, and their heads upon the gates!" that is, the
heads of their leaders who had been executed and stuck there.

Charles at the time was at Portsmouth with his mother, and Clarendon
made the most of the riot, representing it as an attempt to liberate
the Regicides in the Tower, and restore the Commonwealth. Fresh
troops were raised and officered with staunch Royalists, and a large
standing army of that stamp would soon have been formed, had not
strong remonstrances been made by the Earl of Southampton and others,
and equally strong obstacles being existent in the want of money. The
House of Commons, moreover, spoke out plainly before its dissolution,
as to the raising of a new army, saying, they were grown too wise to
be fooled into another army, for they had discovered that the man who
had the command of it could make a king of himself, though he was none
before. The known intention to put the Duke of York at the head of
it was another strong objection. So the design for the present was
abandoned.

[Illustration: ARREST OF ARGYLL. (_See p._ 201.)]

In England, Scotland, and Ireland the king was, of course, beset by the
claims of those who had stood by his father, or could set up any plea
of service. There were claims for restoration of estates, and claims
for rewards. Charles was not the man to trouble himself much about
such matters, except to get rid of them. In Ireland the Catholics and
Protestants equally advanced their claims. The Protestants declared
that they had been the first in Ireland to invite him back, and the
Catholics that they had been strongly on the late king's side, had
fought for him both in Scotland and England, and had suffered severely
from the late usurpers. The Protestants, however, were in possession
of the forfeited estates, and Charles dared not rouse a Protestant
opposition by doing justice to the Catholics, who, though the more
numerous, were far the weaker party. Besides, the different interests
of the claiming parties were so conflicting, that to satisfy all sides
was impossible. Some of the Protestants were Episcopalians, some
Presbyterians. The latter had been vehement for the Commonwealth,
but to ward off the royal vengeance they had, on the fall of Richard
Cromwell, been the first to tender their allegiance to Charles, and
propitiate him by an offer of a considerable sum of money. Then there
were Protestant loyalists, whose property under the Commonwealth had
been confiscated, and there were the Catholics, who had suffered from
both parties, even when ready to serve the king. There were officers
who had served in the Royal army before 1649, and had never received
the arrears of their pay; there were also the widows and orphans
of such. To decide these incompatible demands Charles appointed a
Commission. But little good could possibly accrue from this, for
though there were lands sufficient to have pacified all who had just
claims, these had been lavishly bestowed on Monk, the Duke of York,
Ormond, Kingston, and others. Every attempt to take back lands, however
unjustly held by Protestants, threatened to excite a Protestant cry
of a dangerous favouring of Catholics, and of a design to reinstate
the Papists, who, they averred, had massacred a hundred thousand
Protestants during the rebellion. Charles satisfied himself with
restoring the bishops and the property of the Episcopalian Church,
and left the Commission to settle the matter. But appeals from this
impassive tribunal were made to himself, and he at length published
his celebrated declaration for the settlement of Ireland, by which the
adventurers and soldiers who had been planted on the estates of the
Irish by the Commonwealth were to retain them, except they were the
estates of persons who had remained entirely neutral, in which case
adventurers and soldiers were to have an equivalent from the fund for
reprisals. But this settled nothing, for so many charges were advanced
against those who pleaded they were innocent, that few were allowed to
be so. The matter was next brought before the Irish Parliament, and
there again was division. The Commons, who had been appointed through
the influence of the soldiers and adventurers, voted that the king's
declaration should pass into law. The Lords, on the contrary, protested
that it would ruin all the old families, both Catholic and Protestant.
The contending parties once more appealed to the king, who, wearied
with the interminable strife, seized the opportunity of the discovery
of a paper formerly signed by Sir Nicholas Plunket, one of the agents
of the appellants, offering Ireland to the Pope or any Catholic power
who would defend them against the Parliament, to dismiss their appeal,
and the Bill, based on the Royal declaration, was passed. It was soon
found, however, that it was not easy to carry this law into execution.

Scotland was restored to its condition of an independent kingdom.
The survivors of the Committee of Estates, which had been left in
management on Charles's disastrous march into England, previous to the
battle of Worcester, were ordered to resume their functions. Middleton
was appointed Lord Commissioner; Glencairn Lord Chancellor; the Earl
of Lauderdale Secretary of State; Rothes President of the Council;
and Crawford Lord Treasurer. A Parliament was summoned to meet in
Edinburgh in January, 1661, and its first measure was to restore the
Episcopal hierarchy. To completely destroy every civil right of the
Presbyterian Kirk, Middleton procured the passing of an Act to annul
all the proceedings of the Scottish Parliament since the commencement
of the contest with the late king. Even the Lord Treasurer Crawford
opposed this measure, declaring that as the late king had been present
at one of these Parliaments, and the present one at another, therefore
to repeal the Acts of these Parliaments would be to rescind the Act of
Indemnity and the approval of the Engagement. Middleton carried his
point, and levelled every political right of the Kirk at a blow. The
ministers of the Kirk in astonishment met to consult and to protest;
they sent a deputation to the king with a remonstrance; but they
arrived at a time likely to inspire them with awe, and did not escape
without a painful evidence that they were no longer in the proud
position of their fathers. Charles had shed the blood of vengeance
plentifully in England, and there were those in Scotland whom he
looked on with a menacing eye. The chief of these was the Marquis of
Argyll. Argyll had been the head and leader of the Covenanters. He had
counselled with and encouraged the General Assembly in its resistance
to the late king's measures. He had been his most persevering enemy,
and, finally, he had encouraged the invasion of England by the Scots,
and had been the first to support Cromwell, even sitting in the
Parliament of his son Richard. Argyll was well aware that he was an
object of resentment, and kept himself secure in the Highlands. But his
son, Lord Lorne, had been a steady and zealous opponent of Cromwell and
the Commonwealth, and he was one of the first to congratulate Charles
on his restoration. To lay hold on Argyll in his mountains was no easy
matter, but if he could be beguiled from his fastnesses to Court, he
might be at once punished. No symptoms of the remembrance of the past,
therefore, escaped the king or his ministers, and Argyll deceived by
this, and by the friendly reception of his son, wrote proposing to
pay his respects to his sovereign in the capital. Charles returned
him a friendly answer, and the unwary victim was not long in making
his appearance in London. But he was not admitted to an audience at
Whitehall, but instantly arrested and committed to the Tower. He was
then sent down to Scotland to be tried by the king's ministers there,
some of them, as Lauderdale and Middleton, hideous to their own age and
to posterity for their sanguinary cruelty. Besides, they were eager to
possess themselves of Argyll's splendid patrimony, and they pursued
his impeachment with an unshrinking and unblushing ferocity which
astonished even the king.

Argyll pleaded that he had only acted as the whole nation had done, and
with the sanction of Parliament; that the late king had passed an Act
of Oblivion for all transactions prior to 1641, and the present king
had given an Act of Indemnity up to 1651; that, up to that period, he
could not, therefore, be called in question; that he had been out of
the country during the time that most of the barbarities alleged had
been committed; and that as to the Marquis of Montrose, he had been
the first to commence a system of burning and extermination, and that
they were compelled to treat him in the same manner. And finally, his
compliance with Cromwell was not a thing peculiar to himself. They had
all been coerced by that successful man; so much so, that his Majesty's
Lord Advocate, then his persecutor, had taken the Engagement to him.
This latter plea was the most unfortunate one that he could have used,
for nothing but augmented malice could be the result of it, and there
was enough of that already in the minds of his judges. Fletcher, the
Lord Advocate, was thrown into a fury by the remark, called the marquis
an impudent villain, and added an additional article to the charges
against him--that of having conspired the late king's death.

Lord Lorne procured a letter from Charles, ordering the Lord Advocate
to introduce no charge prior to 1651, and directing that on the
conclusion of the trial, the proceedings should be submitted to the
king before judgment was given. This would have defeated Argyll's foes
had the king been honest in the matter; but Middleton represented to
Charles that to stay judgment till the proceedings had been inspected
by the king would look like distrust of the Parliament, and might much
discourage that loyal body. Charles allowed matters, therefore, to take
their course; but Middleton was again disappointed by Gilmore, the
President of the Court of Sessions, declaring that all charges against
the marquis since 1651 were less valid for the purposes of an attainder
than those which had excited so much controversy in the cause of the
Earl of Strafford, and he carried the Parliament with him. Argyll and
his friends now calculated on his escape, but this was not intended.
A number of letters were hunted out, said to have been written to
Monk and other Commonwealth men whilst they were in power, expressing
his attachment to their cause, and his decided disapprobation of the
king's proceedings. These were decisive. Though the time was passed
when fresh evidence could legally be introduced, these letters were
read in Parliament, and the effect was that of a thunderbolt falling in
the midst of Argyll's friends. They at once disappeared, overwhelmed
with confusion, and sentence of death was passed on the marquis. That
no time might be allowed for an appeal to the king, who wished to be
excused refusing the favour of his life to his son, Argyll's execution
was ordered in two days. In vain the unfortunate nobleman pleaded for
ten days, in order that the king's pleasure might be ascertained; it
was denied him, and understanding from that the determination of the
king, he remarked, "I set the crown on his head at Scone, and this is
my reward." He employed the short space left him in earnest prayer,
and in the midst of his devotions, believing that he heard a voice
saying, "Son, be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee!" he was
wonderfully consoled and strengthened, and ascended the scaffold with a
calm intrepidity which astonished and disappointed his enemies. Before
laying his head on the block, he declared his ardent attachment to
the Covenanters in words which flew to every quarter of Scotland, and
raised him to the rank of a martyr in the estimation of the people. His
head was stuck on the same spike that had received that of Montrose.

Next to Argyll, the malice of the king and Cavaliers was fiercest
against Johnston of Warriston, and Swinton. Warriston was the uncle of
Bishop Burnet, a most eloquent and energetic man, who had certainly
done his utmost for the maintenance of the Covenant, and against the
tyranny of Charles I. He was now an old man, but he fled to France,
where, however, he was not long safe, for the French Government gave
him up, and he was sent back and hanged. Swinton, who had turned
Quaker, escaped, perhaps through Middleton's jealousy of Lauderdale,
who had obtained the gift of Swinton's estate, but more probably by a
substantial benefit from the estate to the Court.

The wrath of Charles next fell on the deputation of twelve eminent
ministers, who had dared to present a remonstrance against the
suppression of the privileges of the Kirk. They were thrown into
prison, but were ultimately dismissed except Guthrie, one of the
most daring and unbendable of them. He had formerly excommunicated
Middleton, and had been one of the authors of the tract, "The Causes of
God's Wrath." Since the Restoration he had called a public meeting to
remind the king of having taken the Covenant, and to warn him against
employing Malignants. Guthrie was hanged, and along with him a Captain
Govan, who had, whilst the king was in Scotland, deserted to Cromwell;
but why he was selected from among a host of such offenders no one
could tell. This closed the catalogue of Scottish political executions
for the present.

But in another form Charles and his brutal ministers were preparing
deluges of fresh blood in another direction. Middleton assured Charles
that the restoration of prelacy was now the earnest desire of the
nation, and a proclamation was issued announcing the king's intention.
Only one of the bishops of Laud's making was now alive, Sydserfe, a man
of no estimation, who was sent to the distant see of Orkney, though
he aspired to the archiepiscopal one of St. Andrews. That dignity
was reserved for a very different man, Sharp, a pretended zealot for
the Kirk, who, at the same time that he urged Middleton to restore
episcopacy, persuaded his clerical brethren to send him up to London to
defend the independence of the Kirk. He went, and to the astonishment
and indignation of the ministers and people, returned Archbishop of St.
Andrews. He endeavoured, in a letter to Middleton of May 28th, to prove
that he had served the Kirk faithfully till he saw that it was of no
avail, and that he took the post to keep out violent and dangerous men.
This, after such a change, could be only regarded as the poor excuse
of an unprincipled man. His incensed and abandoned friends heaped
on him execrations, and accused him of incontinency, infanticide,
and other heinous crimes. By this measure, and the co-operation of
Middleton and Lauderdale, all the old bitterness was revived, and the
horrors of a persecution which has scarcely an example in history,
were witnessed. By Sharp's advice three other bishops were appointed,
Fairfowl to the see of Glasgow, Hamilton to Galloway, and Dr. Robert
Leighton to Dunblane. Leighton was the son of that Dr. Leighton whom
Laud had so unmercifully treated and mutilated for his tract against
prelacy. And now his son embraced prelacy, but was a very different man
to Sharp--pious, liberal, learned, and a real ornament to the Church,
though entering it by such a change. The four bishops went up to London
to receive ordination, which was administered to them by Sheldon,
Bishop of London, at Westminster, with a splendour which greatly
offended the Puritan simplicity of Leighton. They were invited to take
their seats in the House of Parliament, where Leighton had very soon an
opportunity of opposing the introduction of the oath of Allegiance and
Supremacy, which, however, all men were required to take. Sharp drove
on this and other irritating measures; all meetings of presbyteries
and synods were prohibited under penalty of treason, and Sharp soon
recommended the enforcement of an oath abjuring the Solemn League and
Covenant; and with these terrible weapons in their hands, Middleton,
Sharp, and Lauderdale drove the Presbyterians from all offices in the
Church, State, or magistracy, and many were compelled to flee from
the country. The most astonishing thing was, that the spirit of the
people had been so subdued by the arms and supremacy of Cromwell, that,
instead of rising as their fathers did, they submitted in passive
surprise. It required fresh indignities and atrocities to raise them
again to the fighting pitch, and they came. In a short time the number
of prelates was augmented to fourteen, and the Kirk appeared to be
extinguished in Scotland.

Whilst these things were taking place in Ireland and Scotland, in
England the king and his Cavalier courtiers were running a high
career, and the new Parliament proved violently Royalist. The old
great families, the old gentry, the Cavaliers, and the clergy, were
all united to strain every old corrupt practice to pack a Parliament
of their own fashion. Royalists, Cavaliers, and the sons of Cavaliers
predominated in the new Parliament, which met on the 8th of May,
1661. Not more than fifty or sixty of the Presbyterian party were
elected, for the Cavaliers everywhere proclaimed them the enemies
of the monarchy, and they were scared into silence. This Parliament
acquired the name of the Pension Parliament, and, to the disgrace of
the country, continued to sit much longer than the so-called Long
Parliament, of which the constitution was so altered as occasion
demanded that it could not be properly regarded as _one_ Parliament
from 1640 to 1660--it continued eighteen years. The Parliament and the
Church far outran the Court in zeal for the destruction of liberty
and the restoration of a perfect despotism. The Commons commenced
their proceedings by requiring every member, on pain of expulsion, to
take the Sacrament according to the rites of the Church of England.
They ordered, in conjunction with the Lords, the Solemn League and
Covenant to be burnt by the common hangman; they proposed to annul
all the statutes of the Long Parliament, and restore the Star Chamber
and Court of High Commission, but in this they failed. They passed
a Bill declaring that neither House, nor both Houses together, had
any legislative power without the king; that in him resided the sole
command of the militia, and all other forces of land and sea; and that
an oath should be taken, by all members of corporations, magistrates,
and other persons bearing office, to this effect:--"I do declare and
believe that it is not lawful upon any pretence whatever to take
arms against the king, and that I do abhor that traitorous position
of taking arms by his authority against his person, or against those
commissioned by him." This was called the Corporation Oath. They
restored the bishops to their seats in the House of Peers; they made
Episcopalian ordination indispensable to Church preferment; they
revived the old Liturgy without any concession to the prejudices of the
Presbyterians, and thus drove two thousand ministers from the Church
in one day; they reminded the sufferers that the Long Parliament had
done the same, but they did not imitate that Parliament in allowing
the ejected ministers an annuity to prevent them from starving; they
declared it a high misdemeanour to call the king a Papist, that is, to
speak the truth, for he was notoriously one; increased the rigour of
the law of treason, and knocked on the head the last chance of popular
liberty by abolishing the right of sending petitions to Parliament with
more than twenty names attached, except by permission of three justices
of the peace, or the majority of the grand jury. When this Parliament
had done these notable feats, and passed a Bill of Supply, Charles
prorogued it till the 28th of November.

On assembling at this date Parliament was alarmed by Clarendon with
rumours of fresh conspiracies in the country. The object was to obtain
the death of more of the Regicides. The Commons fell readily into the
snare. To make a spectacle of disaffected men, they ordered three
eminent Commonwealth men--Lord Monson, Sir Henry Mildmay, and Sir
Robert Wallop, to be drawn with ropes round their necks from the Tower
to Tyburn and back again, to remain perpetual prisoners. But this
did not satisfy them; they must have more blood, and though Charles
had promised their lives to Sir Harry Vane and General Lambert, they
demanded their trial and execution; and Charles, who had no more regard
for his word than his father, complied. They were to be tried the
next session. Parliament then proceeded to draw up a more stringent
Conformity Bill, which passed both Houses. This Bill enacted that
every clergyman should publicly, before his congregation, declare his
assent to everything contained in the Common Prayer Book, and that
every preacher who had not received Episcopal ordination must do so
before the next feast of St. Bartholomew. They added some new collects,
in one of which they styled the lecherous monarch "our most religious
king." They made the 30th of January a holiday for ever, in memory of
"King Charles the martyr;" and voted the king a subsidy of one million
two hundred thousand pounds, and a hearth tax for ever. The king then
prorogued them on the 19th of May, 1662, with many professions of
economy and reformation of manners, one of which he observed as much as
the other.

Of the improvement of his morals he soon gave a striking example.
The Duke of York, as has been stated, had married Anne Hyde, though
she had been his mistress and was on the point of being delivered
of an illegitimate child, which Charles Berkeley publicly claimed
as his own, and brought forward the Earls of Arran, Talbot, Jermyn,
and others to testify to her loose conduct. Berkeley was afterwards
brought to contradict his own statement; but these circumstances, and
James's gloomy and bigoted temper, rendered it desirable that Charles
should marry. Heirs and heiresses he had in abundance, had they been
legitimate. Besides Lucy Walters or Barlow, by whom he had the Duke of
Monmouth, though the paternity of the child was generally awarded to
the brother of Algernon Sidney--for Mrs. Walters or Barlow was very
liberal of her favours--Charles had, on arriving in London, established
a connection with the wife of a Mr. Palmer, whose maiden name was
Barbara Villiers. The husband's connivance was purchased with the title
of Earl of Castlemaine, and the countess was afterwards advanced to the
rank of the Duchess of Cleveland.

As it was requisite for Charles, however, to marry, his ministers
looked about for a suitable wife. Nothing could reconcile him to the
idea of a German bride, and the Catholic princesses of the south were
regarded by the nation with suspicion, both from the memory of the
last queen, and the suspected tendency of Charles himself to Popery.
Whilst Charles was in France, in 1659, he made an offer to the niece
of Cardinal Mazarin, which that shrewd politician--who showed himself,
however, a bad prophet--politely declined, for Charles was then a mere
fugitive, and the cardinal did not foresee so sudden a change.

On the recall of Charles to the throne, both Mazarin and his master,
Louis XIV., saw their mistake, for they had not only treated Charles
with as much indifference as if it were a moral certainty that he could
never again reach the throne of England, but had even sent him out of
the country at the demand of Cromwell. Mazarin now offered his niece,
but the scene was changed, and Charles no longer stooped to the niece
of a cardinal. Louis, who had no suitable princess of France to offer
him, and who wanted to prevent Portugal from falling into the power of
Spain, recommended to him Donna Catarina of Braganza, the Portuguese
monarch's sister. Could he accomplish this match, Louis, who was bound
by treaty with Spain to offer no aid to Portugal, might be able to do
it under cover of the King of England. The king's ministers, after
some apprehension on the score of the lady's religion, were of opinion
that the match was desirable, if it were only for the great dowry
offered--five hundred thousand pounds, the Settlements of Tangier in
Africa, and Bombay in the East Indies, besides a free trade to all the
Portuguese colonies. De Mello, the Portuguese ambassador in London, was
informed that the proposal met the approbation of the king. To link
the interests of France and England closer, the Princess Henrietta,
Charles's youngest sister, was married to the Duke of Orleans, the only
brother of the French king.

[Illustration: SHILLING OF CHARLES II.]

[Illustration: CROWN OF CHARLES II.]

[Illustration: FIVE-GUINEA PIECE OF CHARLES II.]

On the 13th of May the Portuguese princess arrived at Spithead; Charles
was not there to receive her, pretending pressure of Parliamentary
business, but he sent to request of her that the marriage ceremony
after the Catholic form, which he had promised, might be waived.
Catherine would not consent. On the 20th, Charles having arrived at
Portsmouth, they were, therefore, married in private by Catherine's
almoner, Stuart D'Aubigny, in the presence of Philip, afterwards
Cardinal Howard, and five other witnesses, and subsequently in public
by the Bishop of London.

[Illustration: HALFPENNY (WITH FIGURE OF BRITANNIA) OF CHARLES II.]

On the journey to Hampton Court, and for a few days afterwards, Charles
appeared extremely pleased with his wife, who--though she could not
compete in person with the dazzling Lady Castlemaine, and has been
described by some contemporaries as a homely person, as "a little
swarthy body, proud, and ill-favoured"--is stated by others also to
have been "a most pretty woman." According to Lely's portrait of her,
she is a very pleasing brunette beauty, and by all accounts she was
extremely amiable; but the misfortune was, that she had been brought up
as in a convent, completely secluded from society, and therefore was
little calculated, by the amount of her information, or the graces of
her manners, to fascinate a person of Charles's worldly and volatile
character.

How was such a woman to support her influence with such a man against
the beauty and determined temper of Lady Castlemaine, a woman as
dissolute and unprincipled as she was handsome? In her fits of passion
she often threatened the king to tear their children to pieces, and set
his palace on fire; and when she was in these tempers, a contemporary
says, "she resembled Medusa less than one of her dragons." Charles
was the perfect slave of her charms and her passions. She had wrung
from him a promise that his marriage should not cause him to withdraw
himself from her, and having borne him a son a few days after his
marriage, she only awaited her convalescence to take her place as one
of the queen's own ladies. Catherine had heard of his amour before
coming to England, for it was the talk of Europe, and her mother had
bade her never to allow her name to be mentioned in her presence.
But very soon the king presented her a list of the ladies of her
household, and the first on the list she saw, to her astonishment,
was Lady Castlemaine. She at once struck it out and, notwithstanding
the king's remonstrances, declared that sooner than submit to such
an indignity, she would return to Portugal. But she was not long in
learning that no regard to her feelings was to be expected from this
sensual and unfeeling monster. He brought Lady Castlemaine into the
Queen's chamber, leading her by the hand, and presenting her before
the assembled Court. Such a scandalous offence to public decorum, such
a brutal insult to a young wife in a strange land, was perhaps never
perpetrated before. Catherine, who did not recognise the name uttered
by the king, received her graciously, and permitted her to kiss her
hand; but a whisper from one of the Portuguese ladies made her aware of
the outrage. She burst into tears, the blood gushed from her nostrils
in the violent effort to subdue her feelings, and she fell senseless
into the arms of her attendants. Instead of feeling any compunction
for the pain thus inflicted on his wife, the demoralised reprobate
was enraged at her for thus, as he called it, casting a slur on the
reputation of the fair lady. He abused the queen for her perversity,
and vowed that she should receive Lady Castlemaine as a lady of her
bedchamber, as a due reparation for this public insult. It was in vain,
however, that he stormed at his unhappy wife; she remained firm in
her resolve, either to be freed from the pollution of the mistress's
presence, or to return to Portugal. Clarendon and Ormond ventured to
remonstrate with Charles on his cruelty, but Charles was especially
indignant that they should "level the mistresses of kings and princes
with other lewd women, it being his avowed doctrine that they ought
to be looked upon as above other men's wives." However opposed such a
doctrine may be to the more refined taste and purer morality of the
present age, it was quite in harmony with the habits and feelings which
regulated the social system of Europe at that period. Charles was at
least no worse than Louis XIV., whose mistresses were admitted to the
intimacy of married ladies of approved virtue and chastity. The same,
too, may be said of the English Court under the first two kings of the
House of Brunswick.

The part which Clarendon played on this occasion is greatly at variance
with that reputation for honour, wisdom, virtue, and true dignity with
which his admirers invest him. It shows that however much he might
recoil at it, however deeply disgraceful and degrading he might feel
it, he was ready to stoop to this disgrace and degradation, rather than
sacrifice his interest at Court. Accordingly Charles let him know that
he expected him not only to cease to object to his unmanly conduct
to his wife, but to make himself the instrument of inducing her to
submit to the ignominy; and the hoary moralist, the great minister and
historian, showed himself humbly pliant, and set to work in earnest
to bend the mind of this virtuous and outraged woman to the shame of
receiving her husband's harlot as her daily companion and attendant.
And this Clarendon did perseveringly, and at length successfully. When
Catherine talked of returning to Portugal, he bade her understand
that she was utterly in the power of her husband; that so far from
going to Portugal, she could not even go out of the palace without
his permission; and, in fact, he so worked upon the poor creature's
terrors, backed by the savage threats of the king, that he broke her
spirit, and taught her to acquiesce in an example of profligacy, which
at once scandalised and corrupted the morals of the age. Charles,
when Catherine repeated her determination to return to Portugal, told
her rudely that she must first see whether her mother would receive
her, and that he would send her Portuguese servants to ascertain that
point; and he discharged all her attendants. Thus abandoned in a
foreign country, the miserable queen told the Chancellor that she had
to struggle with greater difficulties than any woman of her condition
before; but that pattern minister only showed her that it was the more
necessary to submit. And thus Clarendon complacently writes:--"In all
this the king preserved his point; the lady came to Court, was lodged
there, was every day in the queen's presence, and the king in continual
conference with her, whilst the queen sat untaken notice of; and if her
Majesty rose at the indignity, and retired into her chamber, it may be
one or two attended her; but all the company remained in the room she
left, and too often said those things aloud which nobody ought to have
whispered. She alone was left out in all jollities, and not suffered to
have any part of those pleasant applications and caresses which she saw
made abroad to everybody else; a universal mirth in all company but in
hers, and in all places but in her chamber, her own servants showing
more respect and more diligence to the person of the lady than towards
their own mistress, who, they found, could do them less good. All these
mortifications were too heavy to be borne, so that at last, when it was
least expected or suspected, the queen of a sudden let herself fall
first to conversation, and then to familiarity, and even in the same
instant to a confidence with the lady; was merry with her in public,
talked kindly of her, and in private used nobody more friendly."

Catherine was subdued to her yoke, and this was the treatment of an
English king to a princess who brought him besides a splendid money
dowry, the Settlement of Tangier, which might in any reign of sense
and policy have been made a commanding station in the Mediterranean,
and Bombay, our first Settlement in India, the nucleus of our present
magnificent Indian empire.

Whilst these scenes had been passing in the palace, the lives of
Cromwell's supporters were brought into question without. Vane and
Lambert were put upon their trial before the Court of King's Bench
on the 2nd of June. The prominent actors in the drama of the late
Rebellion had both in their different ways done immense damage to
Royalty; and though the Convention Parliament had requested Charles
to leave them unpunished--notwithstanding that they were not included
in the Bill of Indemnity--and Charles had assented, the Cavaliers
could not rest satisfied without their blood. Lambert had been one of
Cromwell's chief generals--one of his major-generals--and to the last
he had done his best to maintain the cause of the Commonwealth by his
sword, and had attempted to prevent the march of Monk at the very time
that he was planning the return of the king. Vane had been one of the
very ablest counsellors and diplomatists that the Commonwealth had had.
True, he had not sat on the trial of the king, he had had no hand
whatever in his death; but he had done two things which could never be
forgotten or forgiven by the Royalists. He had furnished the minutes
of the Privy Council from his father's cabinet, which determined the
fate of Strafford, and the Court held him to be the real author of
his death; next, though he did not assist in condemning the king, he
accepted office under what was now termed the rebel Government. Besides
and beyond these, he was a man of the highest diplomatic abilities, and
of a spotless character and high religious temperament, which caused
the vile spirit and lives of the new reigning power and party to look
even viler by the contrast. The prisoners were charged with conspiring
and compassing the death of the present king, and the recent acts in
proof of this were alleged to be consulting with others to bring the
king to destruction, and to keep him out of his kingdom and authority,
and actually assembling in arms. These were vague and general charges,
which might have been applied to all who had been engaged in the late
Government, and on the same pleas all the Commonwealth men might have
been put to death.

Lambert, who had been most courageous in the field, appeared, before a
court of justice, a thorough coward. His late transactions had shown
that he was a man of no military genius, and now he trembled at the
sight of his judges. He assumed a very humble tone, pretended that when
he opposed General Monk he did not know that he was a favourer of the
house of Stuart, and he threw himself on the royal clemency. As there
was clearly nothing to be feared from such a man, he received judgment
of death, but was then sent to a prison in Guernsey for life, where he
amused himself with painting and gardening.

But Vane showed by the ability with which he defended himself that
he was a most dangerous man to so corrupt and contemptible a dynasty
as now reigned. The nobility of his sentiments, the dignity of his
conduct, and the acuteness of his reasonings, all marked a man who
kept alive most perilous and disparaging reminiscences. Every plea
that he advanced, and the power with which he advanced it, which
before a fair and independent tribunal would have excited admiration,
and ensured his acquittal, here only inspired terror and rage, and
ensured his destruction. He contended that he was no traitor. By all
principles of civil government, and by the statute of Henry VII., he
had only contended against a man who was no longer king _de facto_.
The Parliament, he said, before his union with it, had entered on
the contest with the late king, and put him, on what they held to be
sufficient grounds, out of his former position and authority. Moreover,
by the law of the land--the statute of the 11th of Henry VII., and
the practice based upon it--the Parliament were become the reigning
and rightful power. Under that power, and by the constitutional,
acknowledged Government he had acted, taking no part in the shedding of
the king's blood; and what he did after he did by the authority of the
only ruling Government. He therefore denied the right of any court but
the High Court of Parliament to call him in question, and he demanded
counsel to assist him in any case in rebutting the charges against him.
But every argument that he advanced only the more militated against
himself. The court was met to condemn him and get rid of him, and the
more he could prove its incompetence, the worse must their arbitrary
injustice appear. The more he could prove the Commonwealth a rightful
Government, the more must the present Government hate and dread him.
The judges declared that Charles had never ceased to be king either
_de facto_ or _de jure_ from the moment of his father's death. That he
was not king _de facto_, but an outcast from England, deprived of all
power and name, was notorious enough, but that mattered little; they
were resolved to have it so. In order to induce Vane to plead, they
promised him counsel, but when he had complied, and pleaded not guilty,
they answered his demand for counsel by telling him _they_ would be his
counsel.

Before such a tribunal there could be but one result--right or
wrong, the prisoner must be condemned; but Vane made so able and
unanswerable a defence, that the counsel employed against him were
reduced to complete silence: whereupon Chief-Justice Foster said to his
colleagues, "Though we know not what to say to him, we know what to
do with him." And when he adverted to the promise of the king that he
should not be condemned for what was past, and to his repeated demand
for counsel, the Solicitor-General exclaimed, "What counsel does he
think would dare to speak for him in such a manifest case of treason,
unless he could call down the heads of his fellow traitors--Bradshaw or
Coke--from the top of Westminster Hall?" He might have added--in that
vile state of things, that disgraceful relapse of the English public
into moral and political slavery--what jury would dare to acquit him?
The king was so exasperated at the accounts carried to him at Hampton
Court of the bold and unanswerable defence of Vane, that he wrote to
Clarendon, "The relation that hath been made to me of Sir Harry Vane's
carriage yesterday in the hall is the occasion of this letter, which,
if I am rightly informed, was so insolent as to justify all that he had
done, acknowledging no supreme power in England but Parliament, and
many things to that purpose. You have had a true account of all, and if
he has given new occasion to be hanged, certainly he is too dangerous
a man to let live, if we can honestly put him out of the way. Think of
this, and give me some account of it to-morrow." What account Clarendon
gave we may imagine, for he is careful in his own autobiography to
pass over altogether so small a matter as the trial and death of this
eminent man.

Vane was condemned, and executed on Tower Hill on the 14th of June,
1662, on the very spot where Strafford suffered, thus studiously making
his death an act of retribution for his evidence against that nobleman.
On taking leave of his wife and friends, Sir Harry confidently
predicted--as the former victims, Harrison, Scott, and Peters had
done--that his blood would rise from the ground against the reigning
family in judgment, on earth as well as in heaven. "As a testimony
and seal," he said, "to the justness of that quarrel, I leave now my
life upon it, as a legacy to all the honest interests in these three
nations. Ten thousand deaths rather than defile my conscience, the
chastity and purity of which I value beyond all this world." So alarmed
were the king and courtiers at the impression which this heroic and
virtuous conduct was likely to make on the public, that they took every
means to prevent the prisoner from being heard on the scaffold. They
placed drummers and trumpeters under the scaffold, to drown his voice
when he addressed the people. When he complained of the unfairness of
his trial, Sir John Robinson, the Lieutenant of the Tower, rudely and
furiously contradicted him, saying, "It's a lie; I am here to testify
that it is a lie. Sir, you must not rail at the judges." When he began
again, the drummers and trumpeters made the loudest din that they
could, but he ordered them to be stopped, saying he knew what was meant
by it. Again, as he attempted to proceed, they burst forth louder than
ever; and Robinson, furious, attempted to snatch the paper out of his
hand which contained his notes. Vane, however, held it firmly, and then
Robinson, seeing several persons taking notes of what the prisoner
said, exclaimed in a rage, "He utters rebellion, and you write it;"
and the books were seized, or all that could be discovered. They
next, two or three of them, attempted to wrest his papers from him,
and thrust their hands into his pockets, on pretence of searching for
others. A more indecent scene never was witnessed, and Vane, seeing
that it was useless to attempt being heard, laid his head on the block,
and it was severed at a stroke.

[Illustration: RESCUED FROM THE PLAGUE, LONDON, 1665.

FROM THE PAINTING BY F. W. W. TOPHAM, R.I.

"IT WAS THE CHILD OF A VERY ABLE CITIZEN OF GRACIOUS [GRACECHURCH]
STREET. A SADDLER, WHO HAD BURIED ALL THE REST OF HIS CHILDREN OF THE
PLAGUE, AND HIMSELF AND WIFE NOW BEING SHUT UP IN DESPAIR OF ESCAPING
DID DESIRE ONLY TO SAVE THE LIFE OF THIS LITTLE CHILD; I SO PREVAILED
TO HAVE IT RECEIVED STARK NAKED INTO THE ARMS OF A FRIEND, WHO BROUGHT
IT (HAVING PUT IT INTO FRESH CLOTHES) TO GREENWICH."--_Pepys's Diary._]

But the effect of Vane's words and conduct died not with him. The
people, degraded as they had become, could not avoid perceiving that
the spirit of evil was abroad; that revenge was being taken for the
virtue and the great principles of the Commonwealth; that the base and
worthless were exterminating the true--those who were the real glory of
the nation. Burnet says, "It was generally thought that the Government
lost more than it gained by the death of Vane;" and even the gossiping
Pepys said that he was told that "Sir Harry Vane was gone to heaven,
for he died as much a saint and martyr as ever man did, and that the
king had lost more by that man's death than he would get again for a
long while."

[Illustration: SIR HARRY VANE TAKING LEAVE OF HIS WIFE AND FRIENDS.
(_See p._ 208.)]

But these plain signs could not stop the thirst for blood. Colonels
Okey, Corbet, and Barkstead, three of the Regicides, had got away
to Holland, as Goffe, Whalley, and Dixwell had to the New England
settlements. The last three managed, in various disguises, but in
continual fears, to escape; but Okey, Corbet, and Barkstead were hunted
out by Downing, who, having been Cromwell's ambassador at the Hague,
had made his peace with the new Government, and was ready to earn
favour by making himself its bloodhound in running down his former
friends. He had once been chaplain to Okey's regiment. Having secured
them, the States were mean enough to surrender them, and they suffered
all the horrors of hanging and embowelling at the gallows. General
Ludlow, Mr. Lisle, and others of the Commonwealth men had retired to
Switzerland, which nobly refused to give them up; but the Royalists
determined to assassinate them if they could not have them to hack and
mangle at the gibbet. Murderers were sent after them to dog them, and
though Ludlow escaped, as by a miracle, from several attempts, Lisle
was shot, on Sunday of all days, as he was entering the church at
Lausanne; and the murderers rode away shouting, "God save the king!"
and made their escape into France.

If the country was discontented at the destruction of its most eminent
and virtuous men, it found that it must prepare to see its foreign
prestige sold to France. The king wanted money; Louis XIV. wanted
Dunkirk back again, which Cromwell had wrested from France, and which
remained a proof of the ascendency of England under that great ruler.
Clarendon, who should have endeavoured to save the nation from that
disgrace, did not know where else to look for the necessary supplies
for Charles's pleasures, and if he did not suggest, actually counselled
the measure. It was contended that Dunkirk was useless to England, and
that the expense of maintaining it was onerous. But not only France,
but Spain and Holland, knew very well its value as a bulwark against
the notorious designs of Louis of adding Belgium, and if possible
Holland, to France. Charles knew this very well, too, and was ready to
sell it to the highest bidder. Spain and Holland were eager to make
the purchase, but Charles was expecting other favours from France, and
could not get them if he sold Dunkirk to either of those nations. He
was in treaty with Louis for ten thousand foot and a body of cavalry,
to enable him to tread down the remaining liberties of the people. He
therefore gave the preference to France--for not a patriotic feeling,
but the most base personal views swayed him in such matters--and
struck a bargain with D'Estrades for five million livres. Charles
struggled for the payment in cash, but Louis would only give bills for
the amount; and then, knowing Charles's necessity, he privately sent
a broker, who discounted the bills at sixteen per cent.; and Louis
himself boasts, in his published works, that he thus saved five hundred
thousand livres out of the bargain, without Charles being aware of
it. The indignation of the public at this transaction was loud and
undisguised; the merchants of London had in vain offered themselves
to advance the king money, so that Dunkirk might not be sacrificed,
and now the people openly said that the place was sold only to satisfy
the rapacity of the king's mistresses, of whom he was getting more
and more--Miss Stewart, Nell Gwynn, and others of less mark. The
reprobation of the affair was so universal and violent, and Clarendon
was so fiercely accused of being a party to it, that from this hour his
favour with the nation was gone for ever.

Whilst the king was thus spilling the best blood, and selling the
possessions of the country, the Nonconformists were vainly hoping for
his fulfilment of his Declaration of Breda, as it regarded liberty
to tender consciences. The Act of Uniformity came into force on the
24th of August, St. Bartholomew's Day, on which day the deprivation
of two thousand Presbyterian ministers would be enforced. They
therefore petitioned for three months' delay, which Charles promised,
on condition that during that time they should use the Book of Common
Prayer. But no sooner was this promise given than the Royalists,
and especially the bishops, contended that the king was under no
obligation to keep the Declaration of Breda, inasmuch as it had only
been made to the Convention Parliament, which had never called for its
fulfilment. Clarendon did not venture to counsel Charles to break his
word, but he advised the summoning of the bishops to Hampton Court,
where the question was discussed in the presence of Ormond, Monk, and
the chief law-officers and ministers of State. The bishops expressed
much disgust at "those fellows," the Nonconformists, still insisting
on interrupting the king in the exercise of his undoubted prerogative;
they were supported by the Crown lawyers, and the Act was enforced in
all its rigour, despite the royal promise, which had over and over
lost its slightest value. The storm of persecution burst forth on the
Nonconformists with fury. Their meetings were forcibly broken up by
soldiery, and their preachers and many of themselves thrust into prison
on charges of heresy and violation of the laws. Numbers again prepared
for flight to New England, and to prevent this sweeping emigration
of useful artisans, the Earl of Bristol, the former impetuous and
eccentric Lord Digby of the Civil Wars, and Ashley Cooper planned a
scheme which should at once relieve both Dissenters and Catholics.
This was to induce the king, on the plea of fulfilling his Declaration
of Breda, to issue a declaration of indulgence of a broad and
comprehensive character. This was supported in the Council by Robartes,
Lord Privy Seal, and Bennet, the new Secretary of State. Accordingly,
Charles, on the 6th of December, issued his declaration, called "a
Declaration for Refuting Four Scandals cast on the Government"--namely,
that the Act of Indemnity had been merely intended to be temporary;
that there was an intention to keep a large standing army; that the
king was a persecutor; and that he was a favourer of Popery. In answer
to the third scandal, he declared he would submit to Parliament a
Bill for ample indulgence to tender consciences; and though he would
not refuse to make the Catholics, like the rest of his subjects,
a partaker in this privilege, yet to show the fallacy of the fourth
scandal, if they abused his goodness he would pursue them with all the
rigour of the laws already existing against them.

[Illustration: CHARLES II. AND NELL GWYNN.

FROM THE PICTURE BY E. M. WARD, R.A.
IN THE VICTORIA AND ALBERT MUSEUM, SOUTH KENSINGTON.
]

This announcement was received with an outburst of indignation by all
parties except the Independents and the other Dissenters who partook
of their ideas of general toleration. But the Presbyterians adhered
to their ancient bigotry so firmly, that rather than Catholics should
enjoy toleration, they were ready to forego it themselves. The Church,
and a vast number of people of no religion at all, joined in the cry
out of their hereditary alarm at Popery. The moment that the session
of 1663 opened, on the 18th of February, both houses attacked the
Declaration, and the Commons, though the Bill was not before them,
sent an address to the king, thanking him for the other parts of the
Declaration, but represented the third clause as pregnant with schism,
endless liberties and importunities of sects, and certain disturbance
of the national tranquillity. In the Lords the Lord-Treasurer led the
opposition, and the bishops supported him with all their energies, and,
to the astonishment of Charles himself, Clarendon, who had been laid
up with gout, on the second day of the debate went to the House, and
attacked it with a vehemence of language which gave great offence to
the king. Probably Clarendon calculated on more serious damage from
the popular feeling, of which his Dunkirk policy had recently given
him a sharp taste, than on any strong resentment of Charles, but he
was mistaken; the Bill was defeated, but the king expressed his wrath
to Southampton, the Treasurer, and Clarendon, in such terms as struck
terror into them, and from that time it was evident that neither of
them possessed his confidence any longer. Nor did he spare the bishops.
He reproached them with bigotry and ingratitude. He told them that it
was owing to his Declaration of Breda that they owed their restoration,
and that now they were driving him to break that promise. The
intolerance of the bishops in his father's time had caused, he said,
the destruction of the hierarchy, and done much to ruin the monarchy
itself; and no sooner were they reinstated, than they were pursuing the
same blind and fatal course. From that day, too, his manner to them
changed, and his courtiers, quick to perceive the change, imitated it,
and, glad to excuse their profligacy, indulged in ridicule of their
persons, and mockery of their sermons.

But though Charles had boldly spoken much severe truth in the moment
of his resentment, all parties calculated too well on the evanescence
of anything in him like a wise or virtuous perseverance, and they
pursued their object with an obstinacy which compelled the ease-loving
monarch to give way. The Commons passed a Bill to check the growth
of Popery, and another that of Nonconformity, but though strongly
supported in the Lords, they were defeated by the Presbyterian and
Catholic members. They then changed their tack, and presented an
address to the king, praying him to put in force all the penal laws
against the Catholics and sectaries of every description. Having
expressed their wishes, the Commons granted the king four subsidies,
and he was about to prorogue Parliament, when a strange incident
delayed this event for some time. The king, during the discussion
on the Supplies, made a statement which seemed to commit the Earl
of Bristol with Parliament. The earl and the king becoming warm
in mutual explanation before Lord Arlington, Charles used strong
language, and Bristol, losing his temper, reproached the king with
his amours, his indolence, and the sacrifice of his best friends to
the malice of Clarendon, and vowed that unless justice was done him
within twenty-four hours, he would do a thing that would astonish both
the king and the Chancellor. This thing was to impeach Clarendon of
high treason on the ground that he had, both publicly and privately,
endeavoured to fix the character of a papist on the king, and had
represented that he alone protected the Protestant establishment.
Bristol's hasty temper had betrayed him into a charge which he could
not substantiate. He was foiled with disgrace, and he only escaped
being arrested by flight.

When the next session of Parliament opened, on the 16th of March,
1664, the Commons returned with unabated animus, and circumstances in
the interim had occurred, which, as they favoured both the orthodox
scheme and a scheme of the king's, enabled them to carry their point by
conceding his. In October, a trifling insurrection broke out at Farnley
Wood, in Yorkshire. The people, who were of an obscure class, appeared
to be Fifth-Monarchy men and Republicans, who complained of the
persecutions for religion, and of the violation of the Triennial Act,
and contended that as the present Parliament had sat more than three
years, it was illegal, and the people had nothing to do but to elect
another of their own accord. This was a mistake; the Act did not limit
the duration of Parliament, but the interval between one Parliament and
another. The Triennial Act, passed in the 16th of Charles I., when
his Parliament wrung a number of those guarantees from him, authorised
the sheriffs to issue writs for an election after any Parliament had
ceased to sit three years, if the Government did not summon one, and in
default of the sheriffs issuing such writs, the people might assemble,
and proceed to election without writs.

The Government wanted to be rid of this Act, and therefore the Duke
of Buckingham set Gere, sheriff of Yorkshire, and others, to send
incendiaries amongst the people to excite them to proceedings of this
sort. They were then arrested to the number of about fifty persons
in Yorkshire and Westmoreland, on the plea that they were assembled
without lawful cause, the Parliament, so far from having ceased to
sit three years, being still sitting. The ignorant people had been
probably purposely misinformed, and some of them were hanged for it.
The end of Charles was gained. He told the Parliament that the Act
thus encouraged seditious meetings, and that though he never wished
to be without a Parliament for three years, he was resolved never to
allow of a Parliament summoned by such means as prescribed by that Act.
The Parliament readily repealed the Act, and passed another, still
requiring a Parliament at farthest after three years' interval, but
sweeping away what Charles called the "wonderful clauses" of the Bill.

In return for this favour, the Commons now solicited his assent to
the Conventicle Act, which it was hoped would extinguish Dissent
altogether. This was a continuation of those tyrannic Acts which were
passed in this infamous reign, some of which, as the Corporation and
Test Acts, even survived the revolution of 1688. The Test Act, the Act
of Uniformity, by which Bishop Sheldon, the Laud of his time, ejected
two thousand ministers, now the Conventicle, and soon after this the
Five Mile Act, completed the code of despotism.

Here was the king, who, in the last session of Parliament, published
his declaration for the indulgence of tender consciences, now wheeling
round like a weathercock, and consenting to the Conventicle Act.
And what was this Act? It forbade more than five persons to meet
together for worship, except that worship was according to the Common
Prayer Book. All magistrates were empowered to levy ten pounds on the
ministers, five pounds on every hearer, and twenty pounds on the house
where this conventicle, as it was called, was held. This fine, or
three months' imprisonment, was the punishment for the first offence;
ten pounds a hearer or six months' imprisonment for the second
offence; one hundred pounds a hearer or seven years' transportation
for the third; and death without benefit of clergy in case of return
or escape. This diabolical Act Clarendon applauded, and said that if
rigorously executed, it would have produced entire Conformity. What was
Clarendon's idea of rigour?

Sheldon, the Bishop of London, let loose all the myrmidons of the law
on the devoted country. The houses of Nonconformists were invaded
by informers, constables, and the vilest and lowest rabble of their
assailants. They broke open the houses of all Nonconformists, in search
of offenders, but still more in search of plunder; they drove them
from their meetings with soldiery, and thrust them into prisons--and
such prisons! No language can describe the horrors and vileness of
the pestiferous prisons of those days. The two thousand Nonconformist
ministers were starving. "Their wives and children," says Baxter, "had
neither house nor home." Such as dared to preach in fields and private
houses were dragged to those horrible prisons; those who ventured to
offer them food or shelter, if discovered, were treated the same. To
prevent the Nonconformist ministers from remaining amongst their old
friends, Sheldon, the very next session, procured the Five Mile Act,
which restrained all dissenting clergy from coming within five miles of
any place where they had exercised their ministry, and from teaching
school, under a penalty of forty pounds for each offence.

In Scotland it was not against sects, but against the whole
Presbyterian Church that the fury of the persecutors was directed.
The Presbyterians had effectually crushed out all Dissenters, and now
they themselves felt the iron hand of intolerance. No sooner did the
Conventicle Act pass in England than the Royalist Parliament passed one
there in almost the same terms, and another Act offering Charles twenty
thousand foot and two thousand horse to march into England, to assist
in putting down his subjects there, if necessary. Sharp was wonderfully
elated by the Conventicle Act, and, establishing what proved to be
a High Commission Court, he managed to place his creature, Lord
Rothes, at the head of the law department as Chancellor, who brow-beat
magistrates and lawyers, and twisted the laws as Sharp thought fit. The
prisons were soon crammed as full as those in England, and proceedings
of the law courts more resembled those of an inquisition than anything
else, till the peasantry rose and endeavoured to defend themselves. The
names of Lauderdale and Archbishop Sharp are made immortal for the
infliction of infernal tortures; their racks and thumbscrews, their
iron boots and gibbets are riveted fast and firm to their names.

[Illustration: THE GREAT PLAGUE: SCENES IN THE STREETS OF LONDON. (_See
p._ 216.)]

[Illustration: THUMBSCREW.]

And now the king was about to plunge into war to serve the purposes
of his paymaster, the ambitious French king. Whatever could weaken or
embarrass Holland suited exactly the plans of Louis XIV., and to have
England contending with Holland whilst he was contemplating an attack
on Spain was extremely convenient. The immediate cause, however, came
from the complaints of the merchants, or rather of the Duke of York.
The duke was governor of an African company, which imported gold dust
from the coast of Guinea, and was deeply engaged in the slave trade,
supplying West Indian planters with negroes. The Dutch complained of
the encroachments of the English, both there and in the East Indies,
and the English replied by similar complaints. The duke advocated
hostilities against the Dutch, but found Charles unwilling to be
diverted from his pleasures by the anxieties of war. He was worked on,
however, by appeals to his resentment against the Louvestein faction in
Holland, which had treated him with great indignity whilst he was an
exile, and though the differences might have been readily settled by a
little honest negotiation, the duke was desirous of a plea for further
aggression on the Dutch, and his plans were fostered by Downing, the
ambassador at the Hague, a most unprincipled man, who under Cromwell
had held the same post, and traded most profitably on the fears of the
Dutch.

In the spring of 1664, James's admiral, Sir Robert Holmes, arrived
on the coast of Africa with a few small ships of war, to recover the
castle of Cape Coast, which the Dutch had claimed and seized. He
exceeded his commission as an officer of the African Company, and
not only reduced the castle of Cape Coast, but the forts of Goree,
and then sailed away to America, and cast anchor at the settlement of
New Amsterdam, lately taken from the Dutch by Sir Richard Nicholas,
and named it after his patron, New York. The Dutch ambassador now
presented the strongest remonstrances, and the king, excusing himself
on the plea that Holmes had gone out on a private commission, assured
the ambassador that he would have him recalled and put upon his trial.
Holmes, indeed, was recalled, and sent to the Tower, but was soon
after liberated. The Dutch were not disposed to sit down under this
indignity, and De Ruyter attacked the English settlements on the coast
of Guinea, committed great depredations, and then, sailing to the West
Indies, captured above twenty sail of English merchantmen. There was
now a vehement cry for war, and Charles appealed to Parliament, which
granted the unprecedented supply of two millions and a half. The City
of London also presented several large sums of money, for which they
received the thanks of Parliament. A very remarkable circumstance
attended the Act granting this Parliamentary supply. The ancient mode
of subsidies was abandoned, and a mode of assessment, copied from
the plan of the Commonwealth, was adopted; the first time that the
Royalists practically paid homage to the Republican superiority of
finance. The tax was to be raised by quarterly assessments. Moreover,
the clergy, instead of voting their money separately in Convocation,
were called upon to pay their taxes with the laity, and thus ended the
separate jurisdiction of Convocation: it became a mere form.

The Duke of York, who, with all his faults, was by no means destitute
of courage, took the command of the fleet as Lord Admiral against the
Dutch, and showed much ability in his command. He divided the fleet
into three squadrons, one of which he commanded himself, the second he
gave to Prince Rupert, who here again appeared in English affairs, and
the third to the Earl of Sandwich, formerly Admiral Montagu. The whole
fleet consisted of ninety-eight sail of the line and four fire-ships.
On the 4th of June, 1665, he came to an engagement near Lowestoft
with the Dutch under Admiral Opdam, a gallant and experienced seaman,
followed by a hundred and thirteen men-of-war, manned by the most
spirited and distinguished youth of Holland. The battle was terrible,
but James, discharging all his guns into Opdam's vessel, caused it to
blow up, and thus destroyed the admiral with five hundred men. The
Dutch having lost their chief commander, drew off towards the Texel,
but Van Tromp collected the scattered vessels, and there was a prospect
of a second fight; but the duke went to bed, and Lord Brounker, a
gentleman of the bedchamber, went on deck and ordered Penn to slacken
sail. The consequence was that the Dutch were allowed to retire in
safety, and much of the honour won by the duke was lost again by this
circumstance. It was said that the duke knew nothing of it, and that
Brounker had given the order of his own accord; but the prevailing
opinion was that the duke thought he had got honour enough, and the
Earl of Montague, who was serving as a volunteer, said the duke had
been much impressed by seeing, in the heat of the action, the Earl of
Falmouth, Lord Muskerry, and Boyle, son of the Earl of Burlington,
killed by his side. Penn, moreover, was said to have told the duke
that if they engaged again, the fight would be more bloody than ever,
for the Dutch would grow desperate with revenge. The fleet, therefore,
made homeward, and, says Pepys, the duke and his officers returned from
sea "all fat and ruddy with being in the sun." It was given out as a
great victory, and the duke received one hundred and twenty thousand
pounds for his services; but the public was far from satisfied, and
Lord Sandwich far less so. He complained to Pepys that he had borne
the brunt of the battle, and that all the honour was given to the
duke in the printed account. That there was much in these statements
was sanctioned by the fact that the duke was removed from the fleet,
and the command restored to the brave but unprincipled Sandwich. In
the battle the Dutch are stated to have lost seven thousand men, and
eighteen sail burnt, sunk, or taken. The English are reported to have
lost only one ship, and six hundred men in killed and wounded. Amongst
the slain were the Earls of Marlborough and Portland, and Admirals
Lawson and Sampson.

Sandwich was scarcely in independent command when he heard of a most
magnificent chance. Two Dutch merchant fleets, one from the East
Indies and one from the Levant, to avoid the English fleet at the
Texel, united and sailed round the north of Ireland and Scotland, and
took shelter in the neutral harbour of Bergen, in Norway. They were
jointly valued at twenty-five millions of livres. Sandwich sailed
thither after them, and the King of Denmark, the sovereign of Norway,
though at peace with the Dutch, was tempted, by the hope of sharing
the booty, to let Sandwich attack them in port. Sandwich, however,
was not satisfied to give the king half, as demanded, and in spite of
Alefeldt, the governor, who begged him to wait till the terms were
finally settled with the monarch, he ordered Captain Tyddiman to dash
in and cut the ships out and all the Dutch vessels. But Tyddiman found
himself between two fires; the Dutch defended themselves resolutely
and the Danes, resenting this lawless proceeding, fired on them from
the fort and batteries. Five of Sandwich's commanders were killed,
one ship was sunk, much damage was done to the fleet, and it was glad
to escape out of the harbour. Sandwich, however, was lucky enough
soon after to secure eight men-of-war and about thirty other vessels,
including two of the richest Indiamen, which were dispersed by a storm
whilst under the convoy of De Witt. The unscrupulous Sandwich made free
to appropriate two thousand pounds' worth of the booty, and allowed
his officers to do the same, which occasioned his dismissal from the
fleet; but to soften his disgrace, he was sent as ambassador to Spain.
Parliament, to carry on the war, granted the king a fresh supply of one
million two hundred and fifty thousand pounds, and, at the same time,
voted the one hundred and twenty thousand pounds to the duke.

Whilst these events had been transpiring the plague had been raging
in the City of London, and had thence spread itself to various parts
of the country. It raged with a fury almost unexampled in any age
or nation. It had shown itself during the previous winter in a few
individual cases, and as spring advanced, it terribly extended its
devastations. In May it burst forth with frightful violence in St.
Giles's, and, spreading over the adjoining parishes, soon threatened
both Whitehall and the City. The nobility fled to the country, the
Court retreated to Salisbury, and left Monk to represent the Government
in his own person, and he boldly maintained his ground through the
whole deadly time. As the hot weather advanced the mortality became
terrible, and the people fled in crowds into the country, till the
Lord Mayor refused to grant fresh bills of health, and the people of
the neighbouring towns and villages declined to receive any one from
London into them. Those who escaped out of the metropolis had to camp
in the fields, whichever way they turned the inhabitants being in arms
to drive them away. In June the City authorities put in force an Act
of James I. They divided the City into districts, and allotted to each
a staff of examiners, searchers, nurses, and watchmen. As soon as the
plague was ascertained to be in a house, they made a red cross upon
the door a foot in length, and wrote over, "Lord, have mercy upon
us!" No one was allowed to issue out of the houses bearing that fatal
sign for a month, if they could keep them in. Persons escaping out of
these infected houses, and mingling with others, were liable to suffer
death as felons. But to remain in these houses was to perish of plague
or famine, and numbers broke wildly from them at all hazards, thus
carrying the infection on all sides. Many in their frenzy jumped naked
from the windows, rushed wildly through the streets, and plunged into
the river.

It was calculated that forty thousand work-people and servants were
left destitute by the flight of their employers, and subscriptions
were made to prevent them from starving, for they were not allowed to
leave the City. The king gave one thousand pounds a week, the City, six
hundred pounds, the Queen Dowager, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and
many noblemen contributed liberally. But the aspect of the place was
terrible. The dead carts were going to and fro continually to collect
the bodies put out into the streets, announced by the tinkling of a
bell, and at night by the glare of links. The corpses were cast into
pits, and covered up as fast as possible. The most populous and lately
busy streets were grass-grown; the people who walked through them kept
along the middle, except they were meeting others, and then they got
as far from each other as possible. Amid all this horror, the sight of
ghastly death, and the ravings of delirium, whilst some brave souls
devoted themselves to the assistance of the suffering and dying, crowds
of others rushed to taverns, theatres, and places of debauch, and a
strange maniacal mirth startled the silence of the night, and added
horror to the work of death. The weekly numbers who perished rose from
one thousand to eight thousand. The wildest rumours of apparitions and
strange omens were afloat. The ghosts of the dead were said to be seen
walking round the pits where their bodies lay; a flaming sword was said
to stretch across the heavens from Westminster to above the Tower,
and men, raised by the awful excitement of the scene into an abnormal
state, went about, as was done at the destruction of Jerusalem,
announcing the judgments of God. One man cried as he passed, "Yet forty
days, and London shall be destroyed;" another stalked nakedly along,
bearing on his head a chafing-dish of burning coal, and declaring that
the Almighty would purge them with fire. Another came suddenly from
side streets and alleys in the darkness of the night, or in open
day, uttering in a deep and fearful tone, the unvarying exclamation,
"Oh, the great and dreadful God!" The confounded people declared that
it was a judgment of God on the nation for its sins, and especially
the sins of the King and Court, and the dreadful persecution of the
religious by the Government and clergy. The Presbyterian ejected
preachers frequently mounted into the pulpits now deserted by their
usual occupants, and preached with a solemn eloquence to audiences who
listened to them from amid the shadows of death, and thus gave great
offence to the incumbents, who had abandoned their own charges. This
was made one plea, after the danger was over, for passing the Five Mile
Act in October of this year (1665). Many other metropolitan clergy
stood by their flocks, and displayed the noblest characters during
the pestilence. This terrible plague swept off upwards of one hundred
thousand people during the year; and though it ceased with the winter,
it raged the following summer in Colchester, Norwich, Cambridge,
Salisbury, and even in the Peak of Derbyshire.

Whilst the plague had been raging, numbers of the Republicans,
Algernon Sidney among the rest, had gone over to Holland and taken
service in its army, urging the States to invade England, and restore
the Commonwealth, and a conspiracy was detected in London itself for
seizing the Tower and burning the City. Rathbone, Tucker, and six
others, were seized and hanged, but Colonel Danvers, their leader,
escaped. Parliament attainted a number of the conspirators by name,
and also every British subject who should remain in the Dutch service
after a fixed day. But neither plague nor insurrection had any effect
in checking the wild licence and riot of the Court. The same scenes
of drinking, gambling, and debauchery went on faster than ever after
the Court removed from Salisbury to Oxford. The king was in pursuit
of a new flame, Miss Stewart, one of the queen's maids of honour, and
the Duke of York was as violently in love with her. Charles could not
eat his breakfast till he visited both her and Castlemaine; and even
Clarendon complains that "it was a time when all licence in discourse
and in actions was spread over the kingdom, to the heart-breaking of
many good men, who had terrible apprehensions of the consequences of
it."

[Illustration: THE GREAT PLAGUE: THE MANIAC PRONOUNCING THE DOOM OF
LONDON. (_See p._ 216.)]

The war, meanwhile, went on, and now assumed a more formidable aspect,
for Louis XIV. made a sudden veer round in his politics, and joined
the Dutch. He was actually under conditions of peace and assistance
with them, and they called upon him to fulfil his engagements; but
they publicly would have called in vain, had not Charles of late become
too independent of his French paymaster, by having received liberal
supplies from Parliament. Louis liked extremely to see Holland and
England exhausting one another whilst he was aiming at the acquisition
of the Netherlands; but it was not his policy to leave Charles free
from his control. Charles, meanwhile, had been neglecting the very
sailors who were to fight his battles against the united power of
France and Holland. The sailors who had fought so gallantly last
summer had lain during the winter in the streets, having received no
pay. Pepys says that, whilst the plague was raging in London, they
were besieging the Navy Office with clamorous demands. "Did business,
though not much, at the Navy Office, because of the horrible crowd and
lamentable moan of the poor seamen that lie starving in the streets for
lack of money, which do trouble and perplex me to the heart; and more
at noon when we were to go through them, for then above a whole hundred
of them followed us, some cursing, some swearing, and some praying to
us."

Whilst the royal duke had received one hundred and twenty thousand
pounds for fighting one battle and leaving it unfinished, and the poor
men were thus turned adrift to starvation and danger of death from the
plague, the fleet had lost nearly all its experienced officers, who
had been turned off because of their having helped the immortal Blake
to shed glory on the Commonwealth, and their places were supplied by
young, insolent, ignorant sprigs of the aristocracy, who neither knew
their business, nor were disposed to do it if they did. Pepys, who, as
Secretary to the Admiralty, saw all this, says that Admiral Penn spoke
very freely to him on the subject, and lamented the loss which the
fleet had experienced in the cashiered officers.

Such was the state of our navy when it put to sea to face the enemy.
The command was entrusted to Monk and Prince Rupert. And here were
fresh proofs of the wretched management of this miserable monarch. Monk
had taken desperately to drinking, and to this commander the fortunes
of England were entrusted in conjunction with Rupert, who, with the
courage of a lion, was never in the right place at the right time.
On the 1st of June, 1666, Monk discovered the Dutch fleet under De
Ruyter and De Witt lying at anchor off the North Foreland. They had
eighty-four sail, and Monk would have had an equal number, but Rupert
had received an order to go in quest of the French fleet with thirty
sail. Monk, therefore, having little more than fifty sail, was strongly
advised by Sir John Harman and Sir Thomas Tyddiman not to engage with
such unequal numbers, especially as the wind and sea were such as would
prevent the use of their lower tier of guns. But Monk, who was probably
drunk, would not listen, and was encouraged by the younger and more
inexperienced officers. He bore down rapidly on the Dutch fleet, having
the weather gauge, and the Dutchmen were taken so much by surprise that
they had not time to weigh anchor, but cut their cables, and made for
their own coast. But there they faced about, and Monk, in his turn, was
obliged to tack so abruptly, that his topmast went by the board, and
whilst he was bringing his vessel into order, Sir William Berkeley, who
had not noticed the accident, was amid the thick of the enemy, and,
being unsupported, was soon killed on his quarter-deck, and his ship
and a frigate attending him were taken. Sir Thomas Tyddiman refused to
engage, and Sir John Harman, surrounded by the Dutch, had his masts
shot away, and was severely wounded. The masts and rigging of the
English vessels were cut to pieces by chain shot, a new invention of
Admiral De Witt's, and Monk, with his disabled ships, had to sustain a
desperate and destructive fight till it was dark. He then gave orders
to make for the first English port, but in their haste and the darkness
they ran upon the Galloper Sand, where the _Prince Royal_, the finest
vessel in the fleet, grounded, and was taken by the Dutch. The next day
Monk continued a retreating fight, and would probably have lost the
whole fleet, but just then Rupert, with the White squadron, appeared in
sight. The next morning the battle was renewed with more equal forces
till they were separated by a fog, and when that cleared away the Dutch
were seen in retreat. Both sides claimed the victory, but the English
had certainly suffered most, and lost the most ships. The only wonder
was that they had not lost the whole. Nothing, however, could exceed
the lion-like courage of the seamen. "They may be killed," exclaimed
De Witt, "but they cannot be conquered." They very soon reminded him
of his words, for before the end of June they were at sea again,
fought, and defeated him and De Ruyter, pursued them to their own
coast, entered the channel between Vlie and Schelling, and destroyed
two men-of-war, one hundred and fifty merchantmen, and reduced the town
of Brandaris to ashes. De Witt, enraged at this devastation, vowed to
Almighty God that he would never sheath the sword till he had taken
ample revenge.

In August a French fleet, under the Duke of Beaufort, arrived from
the Mediterranean to join the Dutch fleet, under De Ruyter, which was
already in the Channel watching for position. Rupert, however, was on
the look-out, and De Ruyter took refuge in the roadstead of Boulogne,
but whilst Rupert was preparing to prevent the advance of Beaufort up
the Channel, a storm obliged him to retreat to St. Helier, by which
Beaufort was enabled to reach Dieppe; and the Dutch, severely damaged
by the tempest, returned home. But this storm had produced a terrible
catastrophe on land. A fire broke out in the night, between the 2nd and
3rd of September, in Pudding Lane, near Fish Street, where the Monument
to commemorate the event now stands. It occurred in a bakehouse, which
was built of wood and had a pitched roof, and the buildings in general
being of timber, it soon spread. The wind was raging furiously from
the east, and the neighbourhood being filled with warehouses of pitch,
tar, resin, and other combustible materials, the conflagration rushed
along with wonderful force and vehemence. The summer had been one of
the hottest and driest ever known, and the timber houses were in a
state to catch and burn amazingly. Clarendon says, "The fire and the
wind continued in the same excess all Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday,
till afternoon, and flung and scattered brands into all quarters; the
nights more terrible than the days, and the light the same, the light
of the fire supplying that of the sun." The timidity of the Lord Mayor
favoured the progress of the flames. He at first refused to admit the
military to prevent the plunder of the houses, and to keep off the
crowds where efforts were attempted to stop the fire; but nothing of
this sort could be done, for the pipes from the New River were found
to be empty, and the machine which raised water from the Thames was
burnt to ashes. It was proposed to blow up some of the houses with
gunpowder, to arrest the progress of the fire; but the aldermen, whose
houses would be the first to be exploded, would not allow it, and thus
permitted the advance of the raging element without saving their own
property. Nearly the whole of the City from the Tower to Temple Bar was
soon one raging mass of fire, the glare of which lit up the country for
ten miles around.

The terrors of the catastrophe were fearfully aggravated by the wild
rumours and suspicions that flew to and fro. It was declared to be the
doings of the Papists in combination with the French and Dutch, and
the pipes of the New River works at Islington being empty confirmed
it. One Grant, a Catholic and partner in the works, was accused of
having turned off the water on the preceding Saturday, and carried
away the keys; but it was afterwards shown by the books of the company
that Grant was not a partner there till the 25th of September, three
weeks afterwards. There were plenty of people ready to depose that
they had seen men carrying about parcels of combustibles, which, on
being crushed, burst out in inextinguishable flame, and others throwing
fire-balls into houses. There were twenty thousand French resident
in the city, and they were declared to be engaged with the Catholics
to massacre the whole population during the confusion of the fire.
Distraction and terror spread on every side--some were labouring
frantically to extinguish the flames, others were hurrying out their
goods and conveying them away, others flying from the expected
massacre, and others coming out armed to oppose the murderers. Not
a foreigner or Catholic could appear in the streets without danger
of his life. What made it worse, an insane Frenchman, of the name of
Hubert, declared that it was he who set fire to the first house, and
that his countrymen were in the plot to help him. He was examined,
and was so evidently crazed, the judges declared to the king that
they gave no credit whatever to his story, nor was there the smallest
particle of proof produced; but the jury, in their fear and suspicion,
pronounced him guilty, and the poor wretch was hanged. The inscription
on the Monument after the fire, however--and which was not erased till
December, 1830--accused the Catholics of being the incendiaries, for
which reason, Pope, a Catholic, referring to this particular libel,
says:--

"Where London's Column, pointing at the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts the head and _lies_."

"Let the cause be what it would," says Clarendon, "the effect was
terrible, for above two parts of three of that great city, and those
the most rich and wealthy parts, where the greatest warehouses and
the best shops stood, the Royal Exchange, with all the streets about
it--Lombard Street, Cheapside, Paternoster Row, St. Paul's Church,
and almost all the other churches in the City, with the Old Bailey,
Ludgate, all Paul's Churchyard, even to the Thames, and the greatest
part of Fleet Street, all which were places the best inhabited,
were all burnt without one house remaining. The value or estimate
of what that devouring element consumed over and above the houses,
could never be computed in any degree." The houses were calculated at
thirteen thousand two hundred, covering, more or less, one hundred and
thirty-six acres. Eighty-nine churches were consumed.

[Illustration: PIE CORNER, SMITHFIELD, WHERE THE GREAT FIRE REACHED ITS
LIMITS.]

Towards the evening on Wednesday the wind abated, and buildings were
blown up to clear the ground round Westminster Abbey, the Temple
Church, and Whitehall. The next day, the weather being calm, the danger
was thought to be over, but in the night the fire burst out again in
the neighbourhood of the Temple, in Cripplegate, and near the Tower.
The king, the Duke of York, and many noblemen assisted to blow up
houses in those quarters, and thus contributed to save those places,
and finally stop the conflagration. Nothing is said so completely to
have roused Charles as this catastrophe, and both he and the duke were
indefatigable in giving their personal attendance, encouragement, and
assistance. They placed guards to prevent thieving, and distributed
food to the starving inhabitants. In the fields about Islington and
Highgate two hundred thousand people were seen occupying the bare
ground, or under huts and tents hastily constructed, with the remains
of their property lying about them. Charles was indefatigable in
arranging for the accommodation of this unfortunate mass of people
in the neighbouring towns and villages, till their houses could
be rebuilt. But for months afterwards the enormous field of ruins
presented a burning and smoking chaos. Had Charles and his brother
conducted themselves at other times as during this brief but awful
time, they had left very different names and effects behind them.
The great misfortune for the moment even softened down the acrimony
of bigotry and party; but this did not last long. An inquiry was
instituted, both by the Commons and the Privy Council, into the cause
of the calamity, but nothing was elicited to prove it the work of
incendiaries.

The people at large firmly believed that the plague and the fire were
judgments for the sins of the King and Court.

[Illustration: GEORGE MONK, DUKE OF ALBEMARLE.]

CHAPTER VIII.

REIGN OF CHARLES II. (_continued_).

Demands of Parliament--A Bogus Commission--Crushing the
Covenanters in Scotland--The Dutch in the Thames--Panic in London
and at Court--Humiliation of England--Peace is Signed--Fall
of Clarendon--The Cabal--Sir William Temple at the Hague--The
Triple Alliance--Scandals at Court--Profligacy of the King
and the Duke of Buckingham--Attempt to Deprive the Duke of
York of the Succession--Persecution of Nonconformists--Trial
of Penn and Mead--The Rights of Juries--Secret Treaty
with France--Suspicious Death of Charles's Sister--"Madam
Carwell"--Attack on Sir John Coventry--National Bankruptcy--War
with Holland--Battle of Southwold Bay--William of Orange
saves his Country--Declaration of Indulgence--Fall of the
Cabal--Affairs in Scotland and Ireland--Progress of the Continental
War--Mary Marries William of Orange--Louis Intrigues with the
Opposition--Peace of Nimeguen--The Popish Plot--Impeachment of
Danby--Temple's Scheme of Government--The Exclusion Bill--Fresh
Persecutions in Scotland--Murder of Archbishop Sharp--Bothwell
Bridge--Anti-Catholic Fury--Charges against James--Execution of
Lord Stafford.

The career of vice which Charles had run since his restoration to the
throne of England, the scandalous scenes and ruinous extravagance at
Court, the loose women and debauched courtiers who figured there, and
the great calamities which had latterly fallen on the nation, and, as
it was generally believed, in consequence of the flagrant wickedness of
the ruling persons, had by this time produced a profound impression on
the public mind. Unprecedented sums had been voted for the prosecution
of the Dutch War, and some terrible battles had been fought at sea;
but these, so far from bringing any solid advantage to the nation, had
ruined its finances, and greatly damaged the navy. Besides this, there
was a general and well-founded belief that the money which should have
gone to fit out the navy and pay the brave seamen, had been squandered
on the royal mistresses and minions. The sailors had been left in
destitution, and remained so; their tickets, which had been given them
as tokens of their demands for wages, had to a large extent never been
redeemed, whilst the effeminate courtiers made fortunes.

When Parliament met on the 21st of September, 1666, more money was
demanded, and the Commons liberally voted one million eight hundred
thousand pounds, but on several conditions, one of which was that the
laws should be put in force against the Catholics, who were suspected
to have fired the capital. Though a Committee appointed to consider
this charge failed to connect the Papists with the Fire, yet the cry
remained, and Charles was compelled to order by proclamation all
priests and Jesuits to quit the kingdom; all recusants to be proceeded
against according to law; all Papists to be disarmed, and officers
and soldiers to be dismissed from the army who should refuse the
oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy. There had been a demand from the
aristocracy and their tenants in England, in 1663, to prevent the
importation of cattle from Ireland. The landlords wanted high rents,
and the tenants cried out that they could not pay them if they were to
be undersold by the Irish; as if Ireland were not a part of the empire
as well as England, and justly entitled to the same privileges. It
was in vain that the more liberal and enlightened members asked how
Ireland was to purchase our manufactured goods, if we would not take
her raw produce. The Bill was passed, and sixty thousand beeves and
a large quantity of sheep were thus refused entrance annually at our
ports. To obviate this difficulty, the Irish slaughtered the cattle,
and sent them over as dead carcasses. This was violently opposed, and
this session a Bill passed, also excluding the meat. But the third
and last demand on Charles was the most alarming. It was no other
than that a Parliamentary Commission should be appointed to examine
and audit the public accounts. It was well known that not only the
king's mistresses, but many other persons about the Court, had made
very free with the public revenue with the connivance of Charles. Lady
Castlemaine was commonly declared to carry on a great trade in selling
favours, and receiving bribes from the subjects, and lavish grants from
the king.

The alarm which the passing of a Bill for this Commission of Inquiry
through the Commons carried into all the courtly recesses of corruption
was excessive. The whole Court was in a turmoil of consternation; there
was a terrible outcry that if this were allowed, there was an end of
the prerogative. Lord Ashley, the Treasurer of the Prize Money, and
Carteret, the Treasurer of the Navy, were aghast, and implored Charles
to declare openly that he would never consent to it. The grave and
virtuous Lord Clarendon strenuously supported them, telling the king
that he must not "suffer Parliament to extend their jurisdiction to
cases that they had nothing to do with." He desired the king to "be
firm in the resolution he had taken, and not to be put from it." And he
promised when the Bill came into the Lords he would oppose it with all
his power. And this was the advice of a man who himself tells us in his
"Life" of the corruptions practised--of the corruptions of these very
men, Ashley and Carteret; of the good round sums taken from the privy
purse by "the lady," as she was called, and of the extensive grants to
her of lands in Ireland, where they were not so likely to be inquired
about; of the miserable condition of the navy; the dissolute life of
the king; his own remonstrances, and the constant endeavours of the
courtiers to divert the king's attention from anything serious.

But there was a cause much more influential than public good or public
virtue which forwarded the Bill, in spite of the Court. The Duke of
Buckingham had a quarrel with "the lady," and she prejudiced the
king against him, and the duke was determined to have his revenge by
exposing "the lady's" gross peculations. The Bill, therefore, passed
the Commons, and came into the Lords, where Buckingham and his party
supported it, and Clarendon and the guilty courtiers opposed it.
Buckingham himself was as dissolute and unprincipled a man as any about
Court, not even excepting the king and the licentious Lord Rochester.
The Bill passed, and the king, in his resentment, disgraced Buckingham,
deprived him of all his employments, and ordered his committal to the
Tower, which he avoided only by absconding. Buckingham, however, once
out of the way, the king and his virtuous Chancellor soon managed to
be allowed to appoint the Commission of Inquiry themselves, by which
the whole affair was converted into a mockery, and came to nothing.

During this session of Parliament, wild work had been going on in the
west of Scotland. The people there had resisted the ejectment of their
ministers from their pulpits by Episcopalian clergy; they received them
with curses, and often with showers of stones. When the Act against
conventicles was passed, they still met with their old pastors in barns
and moorlands, and then the soldiery under Sir James Turner were let
loose upon them. They flew to arms and fought the soldiers, and made a
prisoner of Turner himself. Their ministers, Semple, Maxwell, Welsh,
Guthrie, and others, incited them to wield the sword of the Lord and
of Gideon, and to resist the Malignants to the death. Lauderdale was
in London, and the ministers told the people that the fire of London
had given enough to the Government to do at home. But Sharp was in
Scotland, and he put himself at the head of two troops of horse and a
regiment of foot guards, and assisted by Dalziel, a man of considerable
military reputation, he pursued the Covenanters to Rullion Green, in
the Pentlands. There, on the 28th of November, 1666, they came to a
pitched battle, in which the Covenanters were defeated, fifty being
killed, and a hundred and thirty taken prisoners. The Covenanters had
treated Turner and all others who fell into their hands with great
lenity, but none was shown to them by Sharp. Ten of them, were hanged
on one gallows in Edinburgh, and thirty-five were sent to Galloway,
Ayr, and Dumfries, and there gibbeted in the face of their own friends.
The implacable archbishop, with the fury of a renegade, made keen
search after all who had been concerned in the affair; it was declared
that eternal damnation was incurred by the rebels against the Church,
and the horrors of the rack, thumbscrews, and iron boot were put
vigorously into operation again. A young preacher, Maccail, whom Sir
Walter Scott has represented under the name of Macbriar, was hideously
tortured, but died in a rapture of joy, not a syllable of disclosure
escaping him. Dalziel, a brutal and drunken captain, revelled in
cruelty and outrage amongst the Whigs or Whiggamores, as they were
called; hanged a man because he would not betray his own father;
quartered his soldiers on people to ruin them, and perpetrated such
atrocities that the Earls of Tweeddale and Kincardine went up to Court
to warn the king against driving the people once more to desperation.
Their representations were not without effect, but this leniency was of
short duration.

The war with the Dutch and French being still continued, it was
necessary for Charles to put his fleet once more in order; but his
Exchequer exhibited its usual emptiness, and the Parliamentary supply
would be some time before it reached the treasury. The customary
resource had been to send for the bankers and capitalists of London,
and make over to them some branches of the public revenue for immediate
advances, these advances to be at the rate of eight per cent., and
to be repaid by the taxes till all were discharged. But the losses
by the fire had incapacitated the money-lenders at this crisis, and
Charles, therefore, unwisely listened to the suggestion of Sir William
Coventry, to lay up the principal ships in ordinary, and send out only
two light squadrons to interrupt the enemy's trade in the Channel and
the German Ocean. The Duke of York at once declared that this was
directly to invite Holland to insult the English coasts, and plunder
the maritime counties; but the want of money overruled the duke, and
the consequences were precisely what he foresaw.

Charles hoped to evade the danger of this unguarded state by a peace.
Louis XIV., who was anxious to conquer Flanders, made overtures through
Lord Jermyn, now Earl of St. Albans, who lived in Paris, and was
said to be married to the queen-mother, and he also at the same time
opened negotiations with Holland, to enforce an abstinence of aid to
the Flemings from that quarter, and to make peace between Holland and
England. These measures effected, he would be set free from any demands
of Holland to assist them against England, and he would bind Charles to
afford no aid to the Spaniards. Charles was perfectly willing to accede
to these plans, so that he might not be called on for more money, and
after a time it was agreed that Commissioners should meet at Breda
to settle the terms of peace. France was to restore the West Indian
Islands taken from England, and England was to oppose no obstacle to
Louis' designs against Spain. But as hostilities were not suspended, De
Witt, the Dutch minister, still burning for revenge for the injuries
committed by the English on the coast of Holland, declared that he
would "set such a mark upon the English coast as the English had left
upon that of Holland."

He knew the unprotected state of the Thames, and he ordered the Dutch
fleet, to the amount of seventy sail, to draw together at the Nore.
The command was entrusted to De Ruyter and the brother of De Witt.
The English, roused by the danger, threw a chain across the Medway
at the stakes, mounted the guns on the batteries, and got together a
number of fire-ships: but here the consequence of the heartless conduct
of the Government to the seamen and workmen who had been employed by
them hitherto and defrauded of their pay became apparent. No sense
of patriotism could induce them to work for the Government. The
Commissioners of the Navy were nine hundred thousand pounds in debt,
notwithstanding the liberal supplies of Parliament, and the merchants
would not furnish further stores except for ready money. One portion of
the Dutch fleet sailed up as far as Gravesend, the other was ordered to
destroy the shipping in the Medway (June, 1667). The fort at Sheerness
was in such a miserable condition, that it was soon levelled to the
ground. Monk had been sent down to defend the mouth of the Medway, and
he raised batteries, sank ships in the narrowest part of the channel
before the boom, and placed guard-ships for its protection. But the
Dutch found out another channel accessible at high water, and running
their fire-ships on the boom, broke the chain, silenced the batteries,
and burnt the guard-ships. Monk retreated to Upnor Castle, but the
Dutch soon appeared before it with their squadron; the castle was not
supplied with powder, and few of the ships in the river had any. The
_Royal Charles_ was taken, the finest ship in the English fleet, the
_Royal James_, the _Royal Oak_, and the _London_ were burnt. A still
greater mortification was to find numbers of the incensed English
sailors manning the Dutch vessels, who shouted, "Before we fought
for tickets, now we fight for dollars." Had De Ruyter pushed on for
London, he might have destroyed all the merchant ships in the river;
but Prince Rupert at Woolwich having sunk a number of ships to block up
the channel, and raised batteries to sweep the passage, it was easier
to commit devastations on the southern coast, and this squadron, under
Van Ghent, dropped down to the Nore and joined the main fleet. For six
weeks the Hollanders sailed proudly along our coasts, harassing the
inhabitants, and attempting to burn the ships at Portsmouth, Plymouth,
and Torbay. Twice De Ruyter attempted again to ascend the Thames, but
by this time, in addition to the force of Rupert, Sir Edward Spragge
was posted with eighteen sail of the line to oppose him.

But the panic on land was inconceivable. "The people of Chatham,"
says Clarendon, "which is naturally an array of seamen and officers of
the navy, who might and ought to have secured all those ships, which
they had time enough to have done, were in distraction; their chief
officers have applied all those boats and lighter vessels, which should
have towed up the ships, to carry away their own goods and household
stuff, and given what they left behind for lost." "Nothing," he adds,
"would have been easier than to have destroyed Chatham, and all the
ships which lay higher up the river. But London was still worse. The
noise of this, and the flames of the ships which were burning, made it
easily believed in London that the enemy had done all that they might
have; they thought they were landed in many places, and that their
fleet was come up as far as Greenwich. Nor was the confusion there less
than it was in the Court itself, where they who had most advanced the
war, and reproached all those who had been against it as men who had
no public spirit, and were not solicitous for the honour and glory of
the nation--and who had never spoken of the Dutch but with scorn and
contempt, as a nation rather to be cudgelled than fought with--were
now the most dejected men that can be imagined; railed very bitterly
at those who had advised the king to enter into that war, which had
already sacrificed so many gallant men, and would probably ruin the
kingdom, and wished for a peace on any terms." All the world, he says,
rushed to Whitehall, and entered at pleasure, some advising the Court
to quit the metropolis, and "a lord, who would be thought one of the
greatest soldiers in Europe, to whom the Tower was committed, lodging
there only one night, 'declared that it was not tenable,' and desired
not to be charged with it, whereupon those who had taken their money
there carried it away again."

[Illustration: _From the Design for the Wall Painting in the Royal
Exchange._

THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON, 1666.

By STANHOPE A. FORBES A.R.A.]

This is a melancholy picture of what a weak and profligate Government
can reduce a great country to in less than six years. "It was said,"
observes Macaulay, "that the very day of that great humiliation, the
king feasted with the ladies of his seraglio, and amused himself with
hunting a moth about the supper-room. Then, at length, tardy justice
was done to the memory of Oliver. Everywhere men magnified his valour,
genius, and patriotism. Everywhere it was remembered how, when he
ruled, all foreign powers had trembled at the name of England; how the
States-General, now so haughty, had crouched at his feet, and how,
when it was known that he was no more, Amsterdam was lighted up for a
great deliverance, and children ran along the canals, shouting for
joy that the 'Devil' was dead. Even Royalists exclaimed that the State
could be saved only by calling the old soldiers of the Commonwealth to
arms. Soon the capital began to feel the miseries of a blockade. Fuel
was scarcely to be procured. Tilbury Fort, the place where Elizabeth
had, with manly spirit, hurled foul scorn at Parma and Spain, was
insulted by the invaders. The roar of foreign guns was heard for the
first and last time by the citizens of London. In the Council it was
seriously proposed that, if the enemy advanced, the Tower should be
abandoned. Great multitudes of people assembled in the streets, crying
out that England was bought and sold. The houses and carriages of
ministers were attacked by the populace, and it seemed likely that
the Government would have to deal at once with an invasion and an
insurrection."

[Illustration: TILBURY FORT.]

However, deliverance came from an unexpected quarter, and the
excitement in the public mind--which had been naturally aroused and
alarmed by the disgraceful condition into which a corrupt and feeble
administration had allowed affairs to drift--gradually subsided, and
seldom has a great crisis been so luckily overcome. For whilst the
Dutch had thus been humiliating England, Louis XIV. had been pushing
his conquests in Flanders. With an army of seventy thousand men he
compelled Binche, Tournay, Oudenarde, Courtrai, and Douai to surrender;
and he was besieging Lille when the States of Holland hastened to come
to terms with France and England to prevent the nearer approach of
Louis to their own territories. On the 21st of July peace was signed
between England and Holland and England and France, by which the Dutch
kept the disputed island of Pulerone, and ceded to the English Albany
and New York. France restored Antigua, Montserrat, and part of St.
Kitts, and received back Nova Scotia. Denmark, which had sided with the
Dutch, also signed a treaty of peace with England.

The peace was immediately succeeded by the fall of Clarendon. He
had been the companion and adviser of Charles from the very boyhood
of the king, and accordingly the mischief of every measure, and the
disgrace which had now fallen on the nation, were all attributed to
him. With great talents Clarendon had too much virtue to approve, far
less flatter, the vices and follies of the Court in which he lived,
and not enough to make him abandon it, and assume the character of
a noble and disinterested censor. He had the sternness and gravity
of Cato, but he lacked his great and patriotic principles. He began
as a liberal, but went over to the Royalist cause, and was a rigid
advocate of the high prerogatives of the Crown, and of the supremacy of
the Church. The Puritans looked on him as a combination of Strafford
and Laud. He certainly would not have so far violated public right
as to countenance the raising of Ship Money, or the violation of
the privileges of Parliament by the seizure of its members. But
the Puritans hated him for the support that he gave to the Act of
Uniformity, and for so hotly resisting the king's grant of indulgence
to tender consciences. On the other hand, the Royalists hated him
because he maintained the inviolability of the Bill of Indemnity, by
which they were restrained from ousting the purchasers from their
estates lost during the Commonwealth; and they hated him not the less
because he had managed to raise his daughter to the rank of Duchess of
York, and thus to give himself, although a commoner, the appearance of
being not only father-in-law of the next king, but father of a line of
kings. They accused him of having selected the present queen as one not
likely to have children, in order to favour the succession of his own,
and probably one of the real causes of Charles's change towards him
resulted from the courtiers having inspired him with this belief. The
Commons hated him because he had uniformly endeavoured to repress their
authority. He never could be brought to see the enlarged influence
which the progress of wealth and intelligence had given to the Commons;
nor had all that had passed under his eyes of their extraordinary power
under Charles I., awakened him to the knowledge of their real position
in the State. In vain did more clear-sighted men point out to him the
concessions which were necessary to enable the Parliament and the
Government to move on harmoniously together. The nobility disliked him
because he had, by his influence with the king and the marriage of his
daughter with the heir-apparent, placed himself above them, and, from
the haughtiness of his nature, taken no pains to conceal that invidious
position. The people detested him, for they believed that he ruled the
king, and therefore was the author of all their miseries and disgraces.
They accused him of selling Dunkirk, and therefore called his splendid
palace, overlooking and every way outshining the royal one, Dunkirk
House. The Chancellor, undoubtedly, had an incurable passion for money
and acquisition of wealth, and for displaying it in the grandeur of
his house, and the magnificent collection of his pictures. When the
Dutch fleet was riding in the Thames, the enraged people turned all
their fury on him. They broke his windows, destroyed the trees in his
grounds, trod down his garden, and erected a gallows at his door.

But the intensity of aversion to him was felt at Court. He was from
his youth of grave and decorous character. The lewdness and fooleries
of the courtiers excited his undisguised disgust. We have seen that he
could stoop to persuade the queen to tolerate the most insufferable
indignities, yet he never ceased to speak to Charles of the infamy
and extravagance of his mistresses, and the scandalous lives of the
courtiers who fluttered around them. The only wonder is, that the
malice of Castlemaine and her allies had not long ago driven him from
the Court; and it speaks volumes for the hold which he had on the
regard of the monarch, that he could resist their hatred so long. But
now Buckingham, who had quarrelled with Lady Castlemaine, and had done
his best to expose her, had made up the feud, and they directed their
common enmity against their common foe. Shaftesbury, Monk, Clifford,
Lauderdale, Sir William Coventry, Arlington, and others, joined them in
one determined and concentrated attack. They made their onslaught when
all classes were uttering their execrations upon him. He had advised
the king, when the Dutch fleet was at Chatham, to dissolve Parliament,
and maintain ten thousand men that he had raised by forced contribution
from the neighbouring counties, to be repaid out of the next Supplies;
this caught wind, and was regarded as returning to the idea of the
king ruling by a standing army and without a Parliament. Charles had
grown tired of his preachments about the profligacy of his life and
Court, and allowed the old Chancellor to drift before the storm; he was
suspected more than all of sacrificing him to his resentment for having
brought about the marriage of Miss Stewart with the Duke of Richmond,
though Clarendon, in a letter to Charles, denied it.

Clarendon, with his characteristic pride, refused at first to resign.
He waited on the king, and reminded him of his long and faithful
services, and told him that he would not consent to appear guilty by
surrendering the seals. The king talked of the power of Parliament.
Clarendon replied he did not fear Parliament, and told the king that
Parliament could do nothing against him without his consent. But
unfortunately the spirit of the censor came over him, and, entreating
the king not to allow the cabal of the courtiers to prevail against
him, he broke out into some severe strictures on "the lady" and her
abettors. The king rose and quitted the room without saying a word, and
"the lady," quickly informed of the Chancellor's disgrace, rushed to
the window to watch, with Arlington and May, the fallen minister retire
in confusion. Charles sent Sir Orlando Bridgeman for the seals, and on
the assembling of Parliament on the 10th of October, Buckingham and
Bristol, who again came out of his hiding-place, urged his impeachment.
Accordingly the Commons presented articles of impeachment at the bar
of the Lords, charging the Chancellor with cruelty and venality in his
office, with unlawful accumulation of wealth, with the sale of Dunkirk,
the disclosure of the king's secrets, and the design of ruling by
military force. Still Clarendon stood his ground; but the king let fall
an expression in the hearing of one of his friends, that he wondered
what Clarendon was still doing in England, and the old man took the
hint and got across the Channel, though the proposal to imprison him
till his trial had been overruled. He did not go, however, without
leaving a written vindication of his public conduct, which so offended
Parliament, that it ordered the paper to be burnt by the common
hangman. In this vindication he declared that he had only retired for
awhile, and should return at a proper time to prove his innocence,
"uncontrolled by the power and malice of men who had sworn his
destruction." This caused the Commons to pass a Bill ordering his trial
on the 1st of February, and declaring him, in default of appearance,
banished for life, incapable of ever after holding office, and liable
to all the penalties of high treason. Clarendon boldly prepared to face
his enemies, but illness stopped him at Calais till it was too late,
and he was thus doomed to exile for life. He lost his wife about the
time of his fall, which was a great blow to him, for they had lived
in great affection. He continued to live chiefly at Montpellier and
Moulins, engaged in writing his history of the Rebellion and of his own
life, as well as a reply to Hobbes' "Leviathan" and other works; but
sighing for recall, and importuning the king to allow him to return to
his native country and the society of his children. Charles, however,
paid no attention to his prayers, and he died at Rouen in 1674.

Clarendon being removed, the whole of the ministry established at the
Restoration was broken up. Ormond was absent on his government in
Ireland, Southampton was dead, Monk was grown incapacitated from drink
and years, and Nicholas had retired. The new ministry acquired the
notorious and appropriate name of the _cabal_, from the initials of
their names,--Sir Thomas Clifford, First Commissioner of the Treasury,
afterwards Lord Clifford; the Earl of Arlington, Secretary of State;
the Duke of Buckingham, Master of the Horse, which office he purchased
from Monk; Lord Ashley, Chancellor of the Exchequer, afterwards Earl
of Shaftesbury and Lord Chancellor; and the Duke of Lauderdale. Before
this time the word cabal merely meant a cabinet. It is so used by
Whitelock, Pepys, and Evelyn, from the year 1650. The present cabinet
was styled by D'Estrades, "_la cabale d'Espagne_." The word became
infamous from the conduct of these men, who were soon concerned in the
king's sale of himself to Louis XIV., and most of them received large
sums from France for their most treasonable and unpatriotic services.
Clifford was the most honest and honourable, but he had the knack of
quarrelling with his colleagues, being of a hot and overbearing temper.
Bennet, Lord Arlington, was a mere courtier, had spent much time on
the Continent, and picked up its frivolity and vices. He could divert
the king by his lively sallies in conversation, please the ladies,
and assume an imposing gravity in public debate that deceived the
public. He was at heart a Romanist, but took care to conceal it. As
for Buckingham, he was a most thoroughly debauched and unprincipled
character, not without certain talents and literary tastes. He had
written farces, and was a connoisseur in music and architecture. But
he was a jaded man of pleasure, and having been out of favour with the
king, was now all the more bent on complying with his humour to win his
favour. He and Arlington were bitter enemies, but put on an appearance
of friendship now they were in office together. Ashley was a man who
could change sides, but always with an eye to the main chance. He had
been a zealous Republican, and now was as zealous a Royalist; and, as
for Lauderdale, he, too, had been an out-and-out Covenanter, but was
now a coarse, brutal persecutor of those of his old faith, and by his
diabolical cruelties has acquired a name in history amongst the most
odious of inquisitors.

One of the earliest acts of the cabal gave fairer promise of sound
and good policy than their after proceedings. They sent Sir William
Temple to the Hague to endeavour to heal the difference with Holland,
which had inflicted such incalculable evils on both countries. Not the
least of those ills was the opportunity which was afforded Louis of
pushing his ambitious designs on Flanders, and ultimately on Holland
and Spain. Both England and Holland saw so clearly the gross folly
which they had displayed that Sir William soon came to terms with the
States, and by the 25th of April, 1668, he had got definite treaties
signed between Holland and England, and between these countries and
Sweden, to make common cause for checking the further advance of the
French, and to induce France to make peace with Spain. There was also a
secret treaty, binding each other to make war on France for the defence
of Spain. This league became known as the Triple Alliance. Louis, who
made pretences to the crown of Spain, was hoping, from the infirm
health of its young monarch, Charles II., to obtain that kingdom,
or to partition it between himself and Leopold, the German emperor,
with whom there was a secret treaty for that very purpose. So far,
therefore, from opposing the plans of the new allies, he fell in with
them on certain conditions--namely, that he should retain the bulk of
his conquests in the Netherlands. Holland beheld this arrangement with
alarm, and refused to sanction it, upon which it was concluded without
her approbation, and to punish the States, Castel-Rodrigo, the Spanish
governor of the Netherlands, gave up instead of Franche Comté, Lille,
Tournay, Douai, Charleroi, and other places in Flanders, so that the
French king advanced his frontier into the very face of Holland. This
was settled by the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle.

But whilst Charles was thus publicly pursuing a policy much to the
satisfaction of the nation, both on account of the improved prospects
for trade, and because the Triple Alliance was an essentially
Protestant one, he was secretly agitating the question whether he
should not openly avow Popery, and was bargaining with Louis to become
his pensioner, so as to relieve himself from any need to apply to
Parliament, and by this means to assume absolute power. Parliament,
which met on the 10th of February, 1668, made a rigid inquiry into
the proceedings of the late administration. They accused Commissioner
Pett of neglect when the Dutch fleet entered the river, Admiral Penn
of the embezzlement of one hundred and fifteen thousand pounds' worth
of prize goods, and Brounker, who had absconded, of giving orders to
shorten sail after the victory of the 3rd of June. They then voted
three hundred and ten thousand pounds, much less than Buckingham had
demanded; and Charles, having in his opening speech recommended some
plan to be adopted, the better to satisfy the minds of his Protestant
subjects, it immediately awoke a jealousy of indulgence to the Papists
and Dissenters. It was found that Bridgeman, the Lord-Keeper, Sir
Matthew Hale, the Chief Baron, Bishop Wilkins, and Buckingham and
Ashley had been engaged in a scheme to tolerate the Presbyterians and
other sects. All the old bigotry of the House burst forth; there were
violent denunciations of any liberty to Nonconformists, and they again
voted the continuance of the Conventicle Act. They then adjourned from
the 8th of May to the 11th of August.

Buckingham, who, during the session of Parliament, had not found
himself very popular, now the object of driving out Clarendon was
accomplished, in seeking to strengthen his party by removing such as
were not favourable to him, drove his plans almost too far. He had a
dread of Clarendon returning through the influence of his daughter,
the Duchess of York, and he endeavoured to undermine the duke with the
king. He blamed the conduct of the Admiralty, at the head of which
James was; he displaced James's friends, and put his own dependents
into offices in James's own department, in spite of his remonstrances;
he spread rumours that the duke had lost the royal favour, and was
about to be dismissed from the office of Lord Admiral. He even affected
to go about with armed followers, on the plea of being in danger from
the duke. But Charles soon convinced the minister that these attempts
were vain, and then Buckingham began to pay court to the duke, which
was repelled with contempt. The only mode of maintaining favour with
Charles was to find plenty of money, and as Buckingham had failed in
that, he recommended retrenchment and economy, which suited Charles
still less. For the rest, both Court and minister went on their way
of open profligacy, and it would have been difficult to say which was
the most void of shame or principle, the king or his chief servant.
Charles was surrounded by Sedley, Buckhurst, and other libertines,
who treated all the decencies of life with contempt, and the monarch
laughed and encouraged them. Though Miss Stewart had become Duchess of
Richmond, he continued his attentions to her. He had elevated actresses
to places in his harem, who bore the familiar names of Moll Davies and
Nell Gwynn. Moll Davies was a dancer, Nelly was an actress of much
popularity, and was a gay, merry, and witty girl, who extremely amused
the king by her wild sallies. By Mary Davies he had a daughter, who
afterwards married into the noble family of Radclyffe. Nell was the
mother of the first Duke of St. Albans; and Castlemaine, who had now a
whole troop of little Fitzroys, was during the next year made Duchess
of Cleveland. Another lady was already on the way from France, sent
by the cunning Louis XIV. for his own purposes. As for Buckingham, he
very successfully imitated his royal master. In January of this year
he fought a duel with Lord Shrewsbury, whose wife he had seduced; and
Pepys says that it was reported that Lady Shrewsbury, in the dress of a
page, held the duke's horse whilst he killed her husband. He then took
her to his own house, and on his wife remarking that it was not fit for
herself and his mistress to live together, he replied, "Why, so I have
been thinking, madame, and therefore I have ordered your coach to carry
you to your father's."

[Illustration: SAMUEL PEPYS. (_After the Portrait by Sir Godfrey
Kneller._)]

In this precious Court the subject of religion was just now an
interesting topic. The Duke of York told Charles secretly that he could
no longer remain even ostensibly a Protestant, and meant to avow his
Popery. Charles replied that he was thinking of the very same thing,
and they would consult with the Lords Arundel and Arlington, and Sir
Thomas Clifford. They had a private meeting in the duke's closet; but
though their three counsellors were Catholics open or concealed, they
advised Charles to consult with Louis XIV. before taking so important a
step. The French king was apprehensive that his avowal of Popery would
occasion disturbances amongst his subjects, but these might be put
down by the assistance of French money and French troops. That was the
object at which Louis knew that this abandoned king was really driving,
and the price of this assistance was to be England's co-operation in
Louis's schemes of boundless ambition. Instead of Charles inducing
Louis to maintain peace with Holland, it was the object of Louis to
drive Charles to break again the Triple Alliance, and plunge once more
into the horrors of a wicked and mischievous war with that country.
Charles hated the Dutch for the treatment he had received in Holland
whilst an exile, and for the humiliations he had been subjected to in
the last war. Louis wanted not only to swallow up the bulk of that
country in his vast plans of aggrandisement, but also make himself
master of Spain in case of the death of the young Spanish king. The
pretended desire of Charles to adopt open Popery was merely a feint to
secure the French king's money, and the next question which he raised
was, whether he should avow himself before the rupture with Holland or
afterwards. The Duke of York was in earnest, Charles was only playing
with the Catholic scheme as a bait; and he afterwards told his sister,
the Duchess of Orleans, at Dover, that "he was not so well satisfied
with the Catholic religion, or his own condition, as to make it his
faith." Lord Arundel and Sir Richard Billings were sent to Paris to
secure the promised cash, and to keep up the farce of his conversion.

Whilst these infamous negotiations were going on, Buckingham was
exerting himself to ruin the Duke of York's prospects of the
succession. He observed the king's fondness for his natural son by Lucy
Walters, who had borne the name of Crofts, and he caught at the idea
of Charles legitimating him. Charles had created him Duke of Monmouth,
and married him to the wealthy heiress of Buccleuch. Buckingham asked
the king why not acknowledge a private marriage with his mother, and
suggested that plenty of witnesses might be found to swear to it;
but the answer of Charles destroyed this vision, who declared that
he would see the lad hanged sooner than own him as his legitimate
son. Buckingham, still not disconcerted, proposed an absurd scheme
of carrying the queen privately to the Plantations, where she would
never more be heard of; and next a divorce from her on account of her
barrenness, and a second marriage. Bishop Burnet, afterwards of Sarum,
had decided that such cause was sufficient for divorce, and that it
only wanted an Act of Parliament authorising the divorced parties to
marry again. Charles listened sufficiently to cause them to attempt
such an Act. It was sought for in the case of Lord Ross, whose wife
was living in open adultery; but it was soon rumoured what was the
ultimate object of it. The Duke of York, therefore, opposed the Bill
with all his might, and Charles supported it with equal ardour, even
taking his seat on the throne in the Lords whilst it was discussed, to
encourage his party. The Bill was carried, and the right to marry again
has always since then been recognised in Bills of Divorce; but Charles
again disappointed Buckingham, for he showed no desire to make use of
it in his own case.

The King obtained from Parliament considerable supplies in the spring
Session of 1670, for his consent to the renewal of the Conventicle Act,
and the fury of persecution was let loose against the Nonconformists.
Spies and informers were everywhere, and many of the Dissenters, to
save their property, and their persons from prison, were fain to forego
their usual assembling for worship in their chapels. The Society
of Friends, however, scorned to concede even in appearance to this
religious intolerance. They persisted in meeting as usual. They were
dragged thence before magistrates, and on refusing to pay the fines
were thrust into prison. No sooner were they liberated, however, than
they returned, as usual, to their meetings, and when the doors were
locked against them, assembled in the street, and held their meetings
there. On one of these occasions, William Penn, son of Admiral Penn,
and afterwards the celebrated founder of Pennsylvania, was taken with
William Mead, another minister of the Society, at an open-air meeting
in Gracechurch Street. They were thrust into Newgate, and brought to
trial in September, 1670, before the Recorder of London, John Howell,
and the Lord Mayor, Samuel Starling. This trial forms one of the most
brilliant facts in the history of the independence of trial by jury,
and has often been reprinted. Both Penn and Mead made noble defences,
and terribly puzzled the Recorder as to the law of the case. They
demanded to know on what law the indictment was based. The Recorder
replied the "common law." They begged to be shown it. On this he flew
into a passion, and asked them if they thought he carried the common
law on his back. It had been founded on hundreds of adjudged cases,
and some of the ablest lawyers could scarcely tell what it was. Penn
replied that if it was so difficult to produce, it could not be common
law. He still pressed for this law, and the Recorder replied, "It is
_lex non scripta_, that which many have studied thirty or forty years
to know, and would you have me tell you in a moment?" "Certainly,"
replied Penn; "if the common law be so hard to be understood, it is far
from being common." And he proceeded to tell them what the law was,
and how the rights of prisoners were secured by the Acts of Henry III.
and Edwards I. and III. On this the court became furious, and the Lord
Mayor said, "My lord, if you take not some course with this pestilent
fellow, to stop his mouth, we shall not be able to do anything
to-night."

This was the style of treatment throughout the trial, but the prisoners
stood firm, and were therefore taken away and thrust into the bail-dock
whilst the Recorder charged the jury. But as the prisoners could catch
what he was saying, which was most grossly false, Penn shouted out
that it was contrary to all law to charge the jury in the absence of
the prisoners. He then told the jury that _they_ were his judges, and
that they could not return a verdict till they were fully heard. The
Recorder shouted, "Pull that fellow down, pull him down." Under such
circumstances of violence, violence only too common in those days,
the jury proceeded to bring in their verdict, which was, "Guilty of
Speaking in Gracechurch Street." "And is that all?" exclaimed the Lord
Mayor. "You mean guilty of speaking to a tumultuous assembly." The
foreman replied, "My lord, that is all that I have in commission." In a
fury, and with much browbeating, the jury were sent back to amend their
verdict, but when again called into court, they brought it in writing,
with all their signatures, only strengthening it by adding, "or
preaching to an assembly." As that was no crime, the court in a rage
ordered the jury to be shut up all night without meat, drink, fire,
candle, tobacco, or any of the most necessary accommodations. Penn
enjoined them to stand firm, and not give away their right, and one of
them, named Edward Bushell, declared they never would. When brought
up the next day, the jury declared they had no other verdict. This
infuriated the Lord Mayor and Recorder beyond patience, and they vowed
they would have a verdict out of them, or they should starve for it.
Bushell replied they had acted according to their conscience, whereupon
the Mayor said, "That conscience of yours would cut my throat, but
I will cut yours as soon as I can." The Recorder added, addressing
Bushell, "You are a factious fellow; I will set a mark upon you, and
whilst I have anything to do in the City, I will have an eye upon you."
The Lord Mayor, addressing the jury, said, "Have you no more wit than
to be led by such a pitiful fellow? I will cut his nose."

Penn protested against their jury being thus insulted and abused.
"Unhappy," he exclaimed, "are these juries, who are threatened to be
starved, fined, and ruined if they give not in their verdict contrary
to their consciences." "My lord," cried the Recorder, "you must take
a course with this fellow;" and the Mayor shouted, "Stop his mouth!
Gaoler, bring fetters and stake him to the ground!" To which Penn
replied, "Do your pleasure: I matter not your fetters!" On this the
Recorder exclaimed, "Till now I never understood the reason of the
policy and prudence of the Spaniards in suffering the Inquisition among
them; and certainly it will never be well with us till something like
the Spanish Inquisition be in England." The jury was again shut up all
night under the same condition of starvation, darkness, and destitution
of common conveniences; but like brave men, after being thus imprisoned
and starved for two days and two nights, they shortened their verdict
into "Not guilty."

Defeated by the noble endurance of this truly English jury, the court
fined every member of it forty marks, for not doing as the bench
required, and committed them to prison till it was paid. They also
fined Penn and Mead for contempt of court, and sent them to prison,
too, till it was paid. The parties thus shamefully treated, however,
had shown they were Englishmen, and were not likely to sit down with
this tyranny quietly. They brought the case before the Lord Chief
Justice Vaughan, who pronounced the whole proceedings illegal, and from
the bench delivered a noble defence of the rights of juries.

This trial is a fair specimen of the spirit and practice of those
times. The greater part of the magistrates and judges took their cue
from the spirit of the Government; and the scenes of violence and
injustice, of persecution for religion, and of robbery by officials of
the outraged people, were of a kind not easily conceivable at this day.

Parliament being prorogued to October, Charles was now engaged in
completing the secret treaty between himself and Louis, by which
he was to be an annual pensioner on France to an extent releasing
him in a great measure from dependence on his own Parliament. On
his part, he was to employ the naval and military power of England
to promote the wicked designs of Louis against his neighbours on
the Continent. The conditions of the treaty were these:--1st, That
the King of England should profess himself Catholic at such time as
should seem to him most expedient, and after that profession should
join Louis in a war on Holland when the French king thought proper;
2nd, That to prevent or suppress any insurrection in consequence of
this public avowal, Louis should furnish him with two millions of
livres (nearly one hundred thousand pounds) and an armed force of six
thousand troops if necessary; 3rd, That Louis should not violate the
treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, and Charles should be allowed to maintain
it; 4th, That if new rights on the Spanish monarchy should accrue to
Louis, Charles should aid him with all his power in obtaining these
rights; 5th, That both monarchs should make war on Holland, and
neither conclude peace without the knowledge and consent of the other;
6th, That the King of France should bear the charge of the war, but
receive from England a force of six thousand men; 7th, That Charles
should furnish fifty, Louis thirty men-of-war, the combined fleet to
be commanded by the Duke of York; and that to support the charge of
the war, the King of England should, during the war, receive annually
three million of livres, about one hundred and fifty thousand pounds.
England was to receive of the Dutch spoil Walcheren, Sluys, and the
Island of Cadsand, and the interests of the Prince of Orange were to be
guaranteed. These were the chief provisions of the Treaty of Dover.

[Illustration: THE ASSAULT ON SIR JOHN COVENTRY. (_See p._ 233.)]

Perhaps the whole history of the world does not furnish a more infamous
bargain, not even the partition of Poland in later days. Here was a
King of England selling himself to the French monarch for money, to
enable him to put down Protestantism and Parliament in Britain, to
do all and more than his father lost his head for attempting--for
Charles I. never plotted against the Protestant religion. This was bad
enough, but the bargain went to enable France to put its foot on the
neck of England, and to employ its forces to destroy Protestantism
abroad--Protestantism and liberty; to throw Holland, and eventually all
the Netherlands, and then Spain, into the power of France, making of
it an empire so gigantic that neither freedom, nor Protestantism, nor
any political independence could ever more exist. Had this infamous
scheme come to light in Charles's time, the Stuarts would not have
been driven out in 1688, but then and there. But that this odious
bargain did actually take place, and was acted on, so far as Charles's
domestic vices and extravagance permitted, later times produced
the fullest evidence. The above Treaty was deposited with Sir Thomas
Clifford; and Sir John Dalrymple, seeking in the archives at Paris for
material for his "Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland," published in
1790, unexpectedly stumbled on the damning evidences--under the hands
of Charles and his ministers themselves--of this unholy transaction
and its reward. The Duke of York was at first said to be averse from
this secret treason and slavery, but he fell into it, and received
his share of the money, as well as Buckingham, through whose agency
a second treaty was effected, raising the annual sum to five million
of livres, or nearly two hundred and fifty thousand pounds a year;
the article requiring the king's change of religion being omitted
altogether, Charles, meanwhile, having shown his readiness to engage
in the Dutch war, which was the main question. Ashley and Lauderdale,
Clifford and Arlington were also in the secret, and had their reward.
Many were the suspicions of this diabolical business which oozed out,
and much talk was the consequence at times; the proofs were preserved
with inscrutable secrecy during the lives of the parties concerned,
discovery being utter and inevitable destruction. The French copy of
the Treaty has hitherto escaped all research.

[Illustration: THE DISGRACE OF LORD CLARENDON AFTER HIS LAST INTERVIEW
WITH THE KING IN WHITEHALL PALACE, 1667.

FROM THE PAINTING BY E. M. WARD IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY OF BRITISH ART.]

To induce Charles to declare war without waiting for his confession
of Catholicism, Louis sent over Charles's sister, Henrietta, Duchess
of Orleans. The king met her at Dover, and the point was discussed,
but Charles would not move another step till the Treaty was formally
signed, and the first payment made. The duchess, indeed, was much more
earnest on her own affairs. She was most miserably married to the Duke
of Orleans, the brother and heir-apparent of Louis, who treated her
with cruelty and neglect for other women. She was anxious for a divorce
and to live in England, but Charles would not hear of what was so
hostile to his interests. The unfortunate duchess returned to Paris,
and within three weeks she was a corpse, though only twenty-six years
of age. There was every reason to believe that she was poisoned, though
the doctors, on a _postmortem_ examination, declared there were no
signs of poison; but what was the value of the testimony of medical men
given at the risk of their heads? On her deathbed, when questioned by
Montague, the ambassador, as to her belief on that point, though warned
by her confessor to accuse nobody, the poor woman would not say that
she had no suspicions, but only shrugged her shoulders, a significant
expression of her internal conviction.

The duchess left behind her in England one of her maids, a Mademoiselle
Querouaille, or, as the English came to call her, Madam Carwell, whom
Louis had selected as a spy and agent, feeling assured that she would
soon captivate this amorous king, which she did at once, and became,
in the usual way, his mistress, and at the same time maid of honour to
the queen. She was soon advanced to the title of Duchess of Portsmouth,
and so well did she serve the purposes of Louis, that in 1673 he gave
her also a French title and estate. It was now thought by Charles and
James that they could venture to put down the liberties, and, as James
earnestly advocated, the religion of the nation. It was proposed to
fortify Portsmouth, Hull, and Plymouth, at which towns French soldiers
might be introduced, and James having the command of the fleet, no
interruption to their transit could take place. When Parliament met in
October, Charles observed that both Holland and France were increasing
their navies--he could have told them really why--and on pretence of
necessary caution, he demanded large supplies to place our own navy on
a proper footing. There were complaints of prodigality and hints of
Popery thrown out, but a sum of no less than two million five hundred
thousand pounds was voted, by taxes on land, stock, law proceedings,
and salaries--in fact, an income and property tax. There was a proposal
to tax theatres, and when it was objected that the theatres contributed
to his Majesty's pleasure, Sir John Coventry asked sarcastically,
"whether his Majesty's pleasure lay amongst the men or the women
players?"

For this remark Sir John was made to pay severely. The King and the
whole Court were furious at his hard hit against the Moll Davieses
and Nell Gwynns. The king declared that he would send a detachment of
the Guards to watch in the street where Sir John Coventry lived, and
set a mark upon him. The Duke of York in vain endeavoured to dissuade
the king; the Duke of Monmouth, who was living on terms of great
professed friendship with Coventry, yet undertook the execution of
the business. He sent Sandys, his lieutenant, and O'Brien, the son of
Lord Inchiquin, with thirteen soldiers, who waited for Sir John as he
returned from Parliament on the evening of the 21st of December, 1670,
and encountering him in the Haymarket, assaulted him. Sir John placed
his back to the wall, snatched the flambeau from the hands of his
servant, and with that in one hand he so well plied his sword with the
other, that he wounded several of the soldiers, and got more credit by
his gallantry than for any action in his life. But he was overpowered
by numbers in the end, beaten to the ground, and then had his nose cut
to the bone with a penknife, to make a mark for life, to teach him
respect for the king. They then went back to the Duke of Monmouth's,
where O'Brien, who was wounded in the arm, had it dressed. Coventry had
his nose so well sewed up, that the trace of the outrage was scarcely
discernible; but the House of Commons, even such a House, resented this
dastardly attempt on one of its members, and it passed an Act making
it felony without benefit of clergy to cut or maim the person, and
banishing for life the four principal offenders unless they surrendered
before a certain day, as well as rendering the crime incapable of
pardon, even by Act of Parliament. But Monmouth and his assistants got
out of the way, and the Parliament never had the virtue to enforce its
own Act.

The year 1671 was chiefly employed in preparing for the war with
Holland. Though Charles was under condition to become an avowed Roman
Catholic, he published a proclamation, declaring that, as he had always
adhered to the true religion as established, he would still maintain it
by all the means in his power. De Witt, who was aware of what was going
on, hastened to make a treaty with Spain, and Louis demanded a free
passage through the Netherlands to attack Holland, or declared that he
would force one at the head of sixty thousand men. Whilst war was thus
impending, the Duchess of York, Hyde's daughter, died. She had been for
some time a professed Catholic. Henrietta Maria, the mother of Charles,
had died in August, 1669, at the Castle of Colombe, near Paris.

Charles and his ministers of the Cabal bribed by Louis (who even
pensioned the mistress of Buckingham, Lady Shrewsbury, with ten
thousand livres a year) prepared to rush into the war against Holland
in the hope of retrieving past disgraces, and securing some valuable
prizes. At the close of the last session, on pretence of maintaining
the Triple Alliance, the very thing they were intending to betray, and
of keeping Louis of France in check, whom they were, in fact, going to
assist in his aggressions, they procured eight hundred thousand pounds
from the Commons, and then immediately prorogued Parliament. But this
most unprincipled trick was nothing to what they were preparing to
perpetrate.

During the recess of Parliament, it was suddenly announced by
proclamation on the 2nd of January, 1672, that the Exchequer was shut.
To understand what was meant by this most flagitious act, we must
recollect that Charles was in the habit of anticipating the supplies
voted, by borrowing of the London bankers and goldsmiths, and granting
them some branch of revenue to refund themselves with interest. He had
at this time obtained one million three hundred thousand pounds in
this manner, but calculating that the Dutch war could not be carried
on without larger means than the recent Parliamentary grant, it was
therefore announced that Government was not prepared to repay the
principal borrowed, or, in other terms, could not grant the annual
security of the incoming taxes, but the lenders must be content
with the interest. This would enable the Government to receive the
revenue themselves instead of paying their just debts with it. The
consternation was terrible. The Exchequer had hitherto kept its
engagements honourably, and had thus obtained this liberal credit. The
lenders, in their turn, could not meet the demands of their creditors.
The Exchange was in a panic, many of the bankers and mercantile houses
failed, a great shock was given to credit throughout the kingdom, and
many annuitants, widows, and orphans, who had deposited their money
with them, were reduced to ruin. Ashley and Clifford were said to
have been the authors of the scheme, but Ashley was a man of infinite
schemes, and probably was the original inventor. Government declared
that the postponement of payment should only be for one year; but the
greater part of the money was never again repaid, and this sum so
fraudulently obtained became the nucleus of the National Debt.

The manner in which the Government commenced the war on Holland
was characterised by the same infamous disregard of all honourable
principle. Though Charles had bound himself to make war on the Dutch,
he had no cause of quarrel with them, whatever he pretended to have.
When Louis menaced them with hostilities, Charles offered himself as a
mediator, and the Dutch regarded him as such. Under these circumstances
he sent Sir Robert Holmes with a large fleet to intercept a Dutch
fleet of merchantmen coming from the Levant, and calculated to be
worth a million and a half. Holmes, in going out, saw the squadron of
Sir Edward Spragge at the back of the Isle of Wight, which had lately
returned from destroying the Algerine navy; and though his orders
were to take all the vessels along with him that he could find at
Portsmouth, or should meet at sea, lest Spragge should obtain some of
the glory and benefit, he passed on and gave him no summons. The next
day he descried the expected Dutch fleet; but to his chagrin he found
that it was well convoyed by seven men-of-war, and the merchantmen,
sixty in number, were many of them well armed. The vast preparations
of Louis, and some recent movements of the English, had put them on
their guard. Notwithstanding Charles's hypocritical offers of friendly
mediation, he had withdrawn the honourable Sir William Temple from the
Hague, and sent thither the unprincipled Downing, a man so detested
there, that the mob chased him away. Van Nesse, the Dutch admiral,
successfully resisted the attack of Holmes, who only managed to cut
off one man-of-war and four merchantmen. The chagrin of Charles was
equal to the disgrace with which this base action covered him and his
ministers. Both his own subjects and foreigners denounced the action in
fitting terms, and Holmes was styled "the cursed beginner of the two
Dutch wars."

There was nothing now for it but to declare war, which was done by both
England and France. Charles mustered up a list of trumpery charges,
which, bad as they were, would have come with a better grace before
attacking his allies without any notice--the detention of English
traders in Surinam; the neglect to strike the Dutch flag to him in the
narrow seas; and refusal to regulate their trade relations according to
treaty. Louis simply complained of insults, and declared his intention
to assert his glory. Under such thin veils did Louis and his bond-slave
Charles attempt to hide their real intentions.

The Dutch fleet was not long in appearing at sea with seventy-five
sail under De Ruyter. On the 3rd of May the Duke of York, admiral of
the English fleet, consisting of only forty sail of the line, descried
this powerful armament posted between Calais and Dover, to prevent
his junction with the French fleet. He managed, however, to pass
unobserved, and join the French squadron under D'Estrées, La Rabiniere,
and Du Quesne. On the 28th they came to an engagement near Southwold
Bay; the battle was terrible--scarcely any of these sanguinary
conflicts of those times with the Dutch more so.

Owing to the wind and tide, not more than twenty of the English sail
could engage the enemy. The French squadron under D'Estrées formed
in opposition to the Zeeland squadron of Banker; but they stood away
under easy sail southward and never came to action; in fact, it was the
well-known policy of Louis to allow the Dutch and English to play the
bulldogs with each other, and to spare his own infant navy. The Duke
of York, with a part of the Red squadron, opposed De Ruyter; the Earl
of Sandwich, with part of the blue, Van Ghent and the Amsterdam fleet.
The English were so surrounded by multitudes of the enemy, that they
could afford little aid to each other, and were exposed on all sides
to a most merciless fire. By eleven o'clock the Duke of York's ship
was totally disabled, and had lost one-third of her men. He himself
escaped out of a cabin window, and got on board the _St. Michael_, of
seventy guns. Poor old Admiral Montagu, Earl of Sandwich, in the _Royal
James_, did marvels of valour. Surrounded by the enemy, he boarded a
seventy-gun ship that lay athwart his hawse, and killed Van Ghent, the
Dutch admiral; but assailed by two fire-ships, he destroyed one, and
the other destroyed him. The _Royal James_ was blown up, and thus the
old man, who had so long figured both under the Commonwealth and Crown,
finished his career. He had a foreboding of his fate, and told Evelyn,
when he took leave of him to go on board, that he would see him no
more. Two hundred of his men escaped.

In the afternoon the _St. Michael_, to which the Duke had fled, was
also sinking, and he had to remove to the _London_. In the evening
the Dutch fleet drew off, and the next morning the two divisions of
the English fleet joined and offered battle, but De Ruyter tacked
about and a chase commenced. Twice the English were on the point of
pouring their broadsides into the enemy, when a fog saved them, and
on the second day the Dutch took refuge within the Wierings. The duke
showed unquestionable courage on this occasion; no real advantage to
the country, however, but much cost and damage, resulted from this
unnatural war to prostrate a Protestant country, in order to pander to
the mad ambition of the French king. Louis all this time was taking
advantage of the Dutch being thus engaged. He marched upon Holland with
one hundred thousand men, assisted by the military talent of Turenne,
Condé, and Luxembourg. He took Orsoi, Burick, Wesel, and Rhinberg on
the Rhine, crossed the river at Schneck in the face of the enemy, and
overran three of the seven united provinces. The city of Amsterdam
itself was in consternation, for the fires of the French camp could be
seen from the top of the Stadt House. Even the great De Witt was in
despair; but at this crisis Holland was saved by a youth whose family
had been jealously thrust from the Stadtholdership. This was William of
Orange, afterwards William III. of England.

William of Nassau was the nephew of the English King, being the son of
Charles's sister. He was then only twenty-one years of age, of a sickly
constitution, and at that time of no experience in State or military
affairs. The House of Nassau had acquired almost sovereign power in
Holland, from having rescued the country from the cruel yoke of Spain,
and had rendered the office of stadtholder almost synonymous with
king. The municipal body, the aristocracy of the country, jealous of
the powers and aims of the House of Orange, at the death of William's
father had abolished for ever the office of stadtholder, and placed
the government of the country in the hands of the Town Council,
the Provincial States, and the States-General. De Witt, the Grand
Pensionary of the Province of Holland, was made Chief Minister, and
conducted the government with consummate ability. William of Orange was
a posthumous child and a ward of De Witt, who was also at the same time
at the head of the Louvestein faction, which was violently opposed to
the House of Nassau. But William of Orange stood high in the affections
of the people. They regarded with as much jealousy the municipal
oligarchy which ruled the country as that did the House of Nassau. They
felt that the Orange family had achieved the independence of Holland,
and, being themselves shut out from all influence in State affairs,
they sympathised with the young prince. Besides, he had a princely
fortune, the possession of territories entrenched behind the river
Maas, and the dykes of South Holland, not easily invaded, and was not
only a prince of the German Empire, but of the royal blood of England.

The people, now seeing the critical condition to which the Louvestein
faction had reduced their country, demanded that the command of the
army should be put into the hands of William. De Witt, who could not
prevent it, endeavoured to persuade the people to bind the prince
by an oath never to aspire to the stadtholdership; but the Orange
party now seized their opportunity to rouse the people against the
oligarchy, and they did it to such effect that De Witt and his brother
were torn to pieces by the populace before the gates of the palace of
the States-General at the Hague (July 24, 1672). William, who had no
share in the murder, however, committed the same grave error as he
did afterwards in England, in the case of the massacre of Glencoe--he
rewarded the murderers, and accepted the office of Commander-in-Chief.
Low as the country was reduced, its very danger was its strongest
means of rescue. Germany and Spain, alarmed for the consequences
to Europe, sent promises of speedy assistance, and even Charles II.
seemed to perceive the folly of his proceedings. The war at sea had
brought nothing but expense and bloodshed. If Spain came to a rupture
with France, England would lose the benefit of its lucrative Spanish
trade. Charles had sent six thousand troops, according to treaty, to
assist Louis in Holland, under the command of his son Monmouth, who
displayed no talents as a general, but plenty of courage--a quality
of the family. With him he sent Buckingham, Arlington, and Saville
as plenipotentiaries. These ministers now hastened to the Hague,
and expressed the friendly feeling of England towards Holland. The
Dowager Princess of Holland, who knew what friendliness had been shown
towards his nephew by Charles, who, Buckingham said, did not wish to
use Holland like a mistress, but love like a wife, replied, "Truly, I
believe you would love us as you do your wife!"--a hard hit. From the
Hague they proceeded to the camp of Louis, who, however, before he
would treat with the Dutch, made the English sign a new treaty that
they would not agree to any separate peace.

The terms then proposed by these allies show how little they were
aware of the power yet lurking in the invalid but stubborn and subtle
young Prince of Orange. Charles required, on his part, the dignity
of stadtholder for the prince, his nephew, the acknowledgment of
England's sovereignty of the narrow seas, ten thousand pounds per annum
for liberty of fishing on the English coasts, and the fortresses of
Goree, Flushing, and some others as a guarantee for the payment. Louis
demanded all the territory lying on the left bank of the Rhine, all
such places as the French had formerly wrested from Spain, seventeen
millions of livres as indemnification of the costs of the war, which he
had himself commenced, and an annual gold medal in acknowledgment of
his surrendering the three provinces he had now taken, but in reality
in retaliation for the medal which the States had cast on the formation
of the Triple Alliance. They were also to grant freedom of worship to
the Catholics.

William of Orange bade them reject the whole of these conditions. He
told them that even were they beaten to the last, they could transport
themselves with their wealth to the Indian Archipelago, and then erect
in Java and the isles a new and more resplendent Holland, with a new
and vast world around them for their empire. The courage of the people
rose at the dauntless spirit of their young prince, and they resolved
to resist to the last man. William ordered the dykes to be cut; the
invaders were obliged by a precipitate retreat to seek their own
safety. Amsterdam was saved, and the different towns of Holland stood
isolated amid a vast sea, which no enemy could approach without a large
fleet of flat-bottomed boats, and supplies which must be conveyed by
the same mode. Meanwhile William, where he could reach the French, beat
them in several smart actions, and thus further raised the courage of
his countrymen, whilst forces from Germany were fast pouring down the
Rhine to their aid.

[Illustration: ANTHONY ASHLEY COOPER, FIRST EARL OF SHAFTESBURY.
(_After the Portrait by Sir Peter Lely._)]

Louis XIV., who by no means relished a campaign of this kind, returned
to Paris, and left Turenne to contend with the enemy, who, though he
displayed the highest military talents, and still held many strong
places, saw that the conquest of Holland was little better than
hopeless. At sea the Duke of York arrived off the Dogger Bank, to
intercept the Dutch East India fleet in vain, and De Ruyter lay snug in
port.

At home Charles had promoted his Cabal Ministry, as if they had done
some great deed, to honours and titles. Clifford was called Lord
Clifford of Chudleigh; Lord Arlington, Earl of Arlington; and Ashley,
Earl of Shaftesbury. Buckingham and Arlington received the honour of
the Garter. In order to protect the bankers whom he had kept out of
their money from the suits commenced against them by their creditors
in Chancery, Charles desired Bridgeman to enter an injunction there,
but Bridgeman doubted the rectitude of the proceeding, and he was
removed, and Shaftesbury put in his place (1672), who at once issued
the injunction, and appointed a distant day for hearing evidence
against it. Ashley, as the new Lord Chancellor, displayed a vanity and
eccentricity which caused him to be greatly ridiculed by the lawyers.
He went to preside on the bench in "an ash-coloured gown silver-laced,
and full-ribboned pantaloons." He at first acted with much
self-sufficiency and conceit, but was soon brought to his senses by
the lawyers, and afterwards became one of the most tame and complying
judges that ever sat on the bench. Violent altercation, however, arose
between Ashley and Arlington, who expected Ashley's place made vacant
in the Treasury, which was given to Clifford.

On the 5th of February, 1673, Parliament was summoned after a recess
of nearly a year and a half. Ashley undertook to justify the shutting
of the Exchequer and the Dutch war. But the days of the Cabal were
numbered. The king, by their advice, had, during the recess, issued a
Declaration of Indulgence. This was done with the hope of winning the
support of the Nonconformists and the Papists. But of all subjects,
that of indulgence of conscience in religion, at that period, was
the most double-edged. The Nonconformists were ready enough to enjoy
indulgence, but then the eternal suspicion that it was intended only
as a cloak for the indulgence of Popery made them rather satisfied
to be without it than enjoy it at that peril. No sooner, therefore,
had they granted Charles the liberal sum of one million two hundred
thousand pounds, to be collected by eighteen monthly assessments, than
the Commons fell on this Proclamation of Indulgence. The members of
the Church and the Nonconformists united in their denunciation of it.
On the 10th of February they resolved, by a majority of one hundred
and sixty-eight to one hundred and sixteen, that "penal statutes,
in matters ecclesiastical, cannot be suspended except by Act of
Parliament." Charles stood for awhile on his prerogative, but the
effervescence in the House and country was so great that he gave way,
and his declaration, on the 8th of March, that what he had done should
not be drawn into a precedent, was received with acclamations by both
Houses, and by rejoicings and bonfires by the people. Shaftesbury
immediately passed over to the Country party, as the Opposition was
called.

The Cabal was now forced to submit to another humiliation. The Country
party introduced, at the instance of Shaftesbury, an Act requiring
every person holding any office, civil or military, not only to
take the oath of Allegiance and Supremacy, but also to receive the
Sacrament in the form prescribed by the Church of England, or be
incapable of accepting or holding such office. All such persons were
likewise required to make a declaration against Transubstantiation,
under a penalty of five hundred pounds, of being disabled from suing in
any court of law, and from being a guardian or executor. This Act was
passed by both Houses unanimously, the Nonconformists being promised
that another Bill should be introduced to protect them from the
operation of this. But before it was done Parliament was prorogued on
the 29th of March, and they were caught in their own trap.

No sooner was this Act passed, which became known as the Test Act, and
continued in force till the reign of George IV., than the Cabal fell to
pieces. Its immediate effect was to compel Lord Clifford and Arlington
to resign: the wedge was thus introduced into the Cabal, and the Duke
of York, who resigned his office of Lord High Admiral, became inimical
to them. The office of Lord Treasurer, resigned by Clifford, was given
by the king to Sir Thomas Osborne, a gentleman of Yorkshire, who was
created Earl of Danby, and became in reality Prime Minister. The rise
of Danby was the certain destruction of the Cabal. His foreign policy
was entirely opposed to theirs: he saw clearly enough the ruinous
course of aggrandising France at the expense of the Protestant States
of Europe; his views of domestic policy were more profound, though not
less unprincipled than theirs. He saw the necessity of combining the
old Royalist and Church interests for the support of the throne, but he
set about this process by buying up the favour of the Cavaliers, the
nobles, the country gentlemen, and the clergy and universities. He was
not the first to bribe--the Cabal had done that so far as Parliament
members were concerned--but Danby, like Walpole, and the ministers
after him, bought up by direct bribes or lucrative appointments any and
every man that could secure his views.

When Parliament reassembled on the 7th of January, 1674, there appeared
alarming proofs of some whispered disclosures having taken place during
the disruptions in the Cabal, regarding the king's secret treaty
with Louis. Charles solemnly denied his having any secret engagement
whatever with France. Parliament also exhibited its uneasiness
regarding the practices of the Papists. The Duke of York, since the
prorogation of Parliament on the 4th of November last, had married
Maria D'Este, a Catholic princess, sister of the Duke of Modena. This
had roused all the fears of the country regarding the succession, and
the Commons recommended severe measures against the Papists, and that
the militia should be ready at an hour's notice to act against any
disturbances on their part. They also demanded the removal from the
ministry of all persons Popishly affected, and of those who advised the
alliance with France and the rupture with Holland, and the placing a
foreigner at the head of the army. Both army and navy, in fact, were
commanded by foreigners--Prince Rupert had succeeded the Duke of York
as admiral; Schomberg was sent with the army to Holland.

Charles himself not having been able in the autumn to draw his pension
from Louis, and Parliament now holding fast its purse-strings, he was
ready to listen to terms from Holland, whereby the triumph of the
Country party was completed. On this the States offered, through the
Spanish ambassador, Del Fresno, the terms which they had once already
refused. The conquests on both sides should be restored, the honour of
the flag conceded to England, and eight hundred thousand crowns should
be paid Charles for indemnification for the expenses of the war. Had
the terms been far inferior, the fact of the money would probably have
decided the matter with Charles. As to the dignity of stadtholder for
William, the States themselves settled that, by conferring it on him
and his heirs for ever, before the time of their treaty, and nothing
whatever was said of the ten thousand pounds for liberty to fish. On
the 9th of February the treaty was signed, and on the 11th announced to
Parliament by Charles.

We may now take a brief glance at proceedings in Scotland and Ireland.

In Scotland Archbishop Sharp had pursued his persecuting and coercive
system to such an extent, that Charles was obliged to order him not
to overstep his proper duties, but to confine himself to spiritual
concerns alone. Such was the hatred which this renegade Churchman had
excited, that in 1668 a young man of the name of Mitchell, who had
witnessed the horrible cruelties which followed the battle of Rullion
Green, believed himself called upon to put Sharp to death. He therefore
posted himself in front of the archbishop's palace in St. Andrews, and
as the archbishop came out with the Bishop of Orkney to get into his
carriage, he stepped up and fired at Sharp, who was just seated; but
at the same moment the Bishop of Orkney raised his arm to enter the
carriage, and received the ball in his wrist. There was a cry that
a man was killed, but some one exclaimed, "It is only a bishop!" and
Mitchell, coolly crossing the street, mixed with the crowd, walked
away, and changed his coat; and though the Council offered a large
reward for his apprehension, it was six years before he was discovered.

The Earl of Rothes had been removed from the office of Royal
Commissioner, and the Earl of Tweeddale, who now occupied that post,
endeavoured to soften the spirit of persecution, and granted a certain
indulgence. This was to admit the ejected ministers to such of their
livings as were vacant, or to appoint them to others, provided they
would accept collation from the bishop, and attend the presbyteries
and synods. But this was to concede the question of episcopacy, and
the king's supremacy in the Church. The more complying of the ejected
members, to the number of forty-three, accepted the offer; but they
found that by so doing they had forfeited the respect of their flocks,
who deserted their churches, and crowded to other preachers more stanch
to their principles. Lauderdale soon after returned to Scotland, and
his very first proceeding was to pass an Act to appoint Commissioners
to co-operate with English Commissioners, to endeavour to effect a
union of the two kingdoms. His next was to pass another, converting
the Act of Allegiance into an act of absolute Supremacy. This at
once annihilated the independence of the Kirk; and a third Act was
to give the king a right to maintain an army, and to march it to any
part of the king's dominions. This was so evidently a step towards
despotism, that not only in Scotland, but in the English Parliament,
the indignation was great, and the English Commons presented an
address to the Crown, praying for Lauderdale's removal. The address,
however, produced no effect. Lauderdale proceeded, plausibly offering
indulgence to such easy-principled ministers as would accept livings
subject to the oath of Supremacy and the acknowledgment of bishops,
whilst at the same time he passed an Act in July, 1670, more rigorously
prohibiting conventicles within private houses or in the open air.
Any minister preaching or praying at such meetings was to suffer
forfeiture of both life and property. The Scots did not understand
this kind of indulgence, which allowed their ministers to enter their
churches by the sacrifice of their moral principles, and put them to
death if they took the liberty of following their consciences. The
people took arms and went to their meetings, determined to defend their
preachers and themselves. Lauderdale then, with the aid of Archbishop
Leighton, extended the "indulgence" to all such ministers as would
attend presbyteries, where the bishops should have no negative voice;
but this did not deceive the people. The rigour against their own
chosen ministers and places of worship was kept up, and they declared
that bishops, even without a negative voice in the presbyteries,
were bishops still; that such assemblies had no resemblance to those
previous to 1638; that they had no power of the keys, no ordination,
no jurisdiction; that the whole was but a snare to draw in unwary or
self-interested ministers, and after them their flocks. To assent
to such terms would be apostacy from the principles of the Kirk.
Lauderdale made another step in his "indulgence" in 1673. He named
eighty ejected ministers, and ordered them to repair to their churches
and officiate there, but nowhere else, under severe penalties. This was
to lock up the conventicles in which these preachers ministered. About
one-fourth of the number refused to obey, and were confined by order of
the Council to particular places. But this did not diminish the number
of conventicles: it only excited a schism between the complying and the
non-complying. He next passed an act of grace, pardoning all offences
against the Conventicle Acts committed before the 4th of March,
1674; but this only encouraged the people to fresh freedom in their
attendance on conventicles. They regarded his concessions as certain
proofs of his weakness, and scorning any compliance with episcopacy and
royal supremacy, their independent meetings spread and abounded more
than ever. They assembled in vacant churches, where they would not have
entered to listen to what they called an intrusive minister, or in the
open air in glen or mountain, around a lofty pole erected as a signal.
"The parish churches of the curates," says Kirton, "came to be like
pest-houses, few went into any of them, and none to some; so the doors
were kept locked." No policy, however severe or plausibly insinuating,
could induce the wary Scots to swallow the hated pill of episcopacy.

In Ireland, the prohibition of importing Irish cattle into England was
followed by a like prohibition from the Scottish Parliament, and the
Irish Parliament retaliated by prohibiting Scottish woollens being
imported into Ireland. These illiberal measures only spread mischief
and misery on all sides. So long as the Duke of Ormond retained the
lord-lieutenancy, he endeavoured to mitigate these evils. He procured
the liberty of free trade between Ireland and all foreign countries,
whether at war or peace with England; and five hundred families of
Walloons were induced to settle in Ireland and to establish the
manufacture of woollen and linen cloths. But the many sufferers from
the Act of Settlement, which confirmed the possession of the Irish
lands in the hands of the English soldiers and adventurers, complained
greatly of Ormond, and his enemies at Court procured his removal in
1669. After him succeeded Lord Robartes, and next Lord Berkeley; but
it mattered little who governed, nothing could induce the natives to
sit down quietly under the loss of their estates, and that, too, whilst
they had been often firm loyalists and the intruders rebels. In 1671
a Commission was appointed to inquire into all alleged grievances,
consisting of Prince Rupert, Buckingham, Lauderdale, Anglesey, Ashley,
and others. This lasted till March 26th, 1673, but ended in nothing.
The possessors of the Irish lands were too powerful at Court, and no
result followed but fresh severities against the Catholics, who were
expelled from all corporations, and their priests banished the kingdom.

The war between France and the confederates--Holland, Austria, and
Spain--had now spread all over Europe, both by land and sea. Louis
poured his soldiers in torrents into the Netherlands, and excited
insurrections in the dependencies of Spain. He managed to excite
sedition against her in Sicily, and against Austria in Hungary. De
Ruyter, the famous admiral, was despatched by the Prince of Orange
to assist the Spaniards in Sicily, and was killed at Messina. On the
other hand, Louis's great general, Turenne, was killed at the battle
of Salzbach, on the Rhine. After his death, the Austrian general,
Montecucculi, defeated the French repeatedly, and recovered Alsace.
But Vauban, who introduced a new system of fortification, recovered
the ascendency of Louis, by teaching the French how to defend towns.
Louis maintained this enormous war at a cost which brought an immense
burden on France, and laid the foundation of the great Revolution
which horrified Europe. On the other hand, William of Orange manfully
maintained the conflict under many disadvantages. His authority at
home was often questioned; the governors of the Spanish Netherlands
frequently crossed his plans, and his German allies frequently failed
him. Yet reverse after reverse was not able to damp his spirit, or
overcome his imperturbable tenacity of purpose. Charles, during this
awful struggle of his nephew, was enjoying peace, but a most inglorious
peace, purchased by the money of Louis, to allow him to destroy all
the independent States of Europe. Not even the interests of his own
subjects were protected. In the course of seven months fifty-three sail
of merchantmen were captured by the French cruisers. The sufferers made
loud complaints, and Charles promised to obtain restoration, but very
little was ever obtained. He received his annual pension from Louis;
and though he drew it through Chiffinch, his pander and man of the
back stairs, the transaction was well known to his ministers Danby and
Lauderdale, and his brother the Duke of York.

[Illustration: VIEW IN THE HAGUE: THE GEVANGENPOORT IN WHICH CORNELIUS
AND JOHN DE WITT WERE IMPRISONED (1672).]

When he reassembled his Parliament on the 5th of February, 1677, the
Country party, headed by Shaftesbury and Buckingham in the Lords,
contended that the Parliament was legally at an end. That, by two
statutes of Edward III., it was required that Parliaments should
be held once a year, or oftener; and this Parliament having been
prorogued for a period of fifteen months, had ceased to exist. But Lord
Chancellor Finch truly replied, that by the Triennial Act of Charles
I. the vacations were extended to three years. In the Commons there
was also a motion for a dissolution, but it was postponed. The motion
of Buckingham in the Lords to vote the present Parliament effete was
negatived, and he, Salisbury, Shaftesbury, and Wharton, were ordered
by the House to retract their illegal opinions, and beg pardon of the
House and the king. They refused, and were committed to the Tower. The
following day the motion for a dissolution in the Commons was lost by a
minority of one hundred and forty-two to one hundred and ninety-three.
Defeated in the attempt to break up this corrupt Pension Parliament,
the Opposition in the Lords next endeavoured to secure the succession
against a Catholic prince. Charles had no children but illegitimate
ones, and James, therefore, was heir to the Crown. The Bill passed
the Lords, and provided that on the demise of the king, the bishops
should tender a declaration against Transubstantiation to the heir; and
if he refused to take it, they should appoint to all bishoprics and
benefices, and take charge of the education of the king's children; but
the Commons rejected the Bill on the ground of the undue power which
it conferred on the bishops; and they immediately threw out another
Bill of the Peers for abolishing the punishment of death for Popish
recusancy. The two Houses, however, agreed in abolishing the detestable
writ _De hæretico comburendo_.

This Parliament has been accused of singular inconsistency in calling
upon the king to declare war against France, in order to check that
country in its ominous progress against Holland and the Netherlands,
and yet refusing him money. A very valid plea for anxiously desiring
the declaration of war, and yet shrinking from putting money into
Charles's hands, might have been advanced had it been an honest
Parliament. The nation saw with great discontent and humiliation
the growing ascendency of France, the increase of Louis's navy, the
expansion of his ambitious plans, the danger of Protestant Holland, and
the despicable position into which England had fallen. It had fears of
Popery, fears of absolutism through a standing army. There were dark
rumours, though no direct proofs, of the king's secret league with
France. Whilst they, therefore, would have willingly granted him money
for a war with France, they dreaded to do it, knowing how it would go
in folly, and believing how it would go to strengthen despotism. They
did not leave him destitute; he had the excise, and they now granted
six hundred thousand pounds for the building of new ships; but they
took care to tie it up, by proper securities, to its legitimate
purpose. How well they were justified was shown by the first use which
the king made of the money now received from France. The bulk of it
went to purchase votes in the House of Commons.

Unfortunately, this Parliament was little more honest than the king
himself; it was receiving bribes on all sides. Dalrymple shows that
Spanish, Dutch, German, and French money was freely distributed amongst
the members. In 1673 three leaders of the Opposition in the Commons
were bribed with six thousand pounds, to induce them to vote unusually
large supplies, and they did it. They were now in the pay of all the
chief contending countries in Europe. When they raised the cry of war
on this occasion, the king expressed his readiness, but demanded six
hundred thousand pounds at the least for the necessary expenditure.
Thereupon Spain bribed the patriots to vote for it with twenty thousand
pounds, and the King of France bribed them against war with a still
larger sum. The proposal was thrown out, Louis having feed not only
the Parliament but the ministers and the king. On receiving about two
hundred thousand pounds from Louis, Charles adjourned Parliament on
the 16th of April, and did not call it together again till the next
January. Never, surely, had everything like principle or patriotism
so thoroughly abandoned the nation. Soon after the adjournment,
Buckingham, Salisbury, and Wharton, made their submission to the king,
and were released; Shaftesbury held out seven months longer, and then
followed their example.

During the recess the Prince of Orange came to England. Though William
could place little dependence on the alliance of his uncle Charles,
yet he could not be insensible that a marriage with Mary opened up a
prospect towards the throne of England, and that an alliance between
the two Protestant nations must mutually strengthen their position
in Europe. He therefore began to cultivate the friendship of Danby,
the Prime Minister, and then solicited the union which he had before
declined. The overture was received with a coldness that the more
sensibly impressed the prince with the political blunder which he had
committed. He therefore humbled himself, and requested permission to
make a visit to London and apologise for his past conduct and explain
his future views. Charles not only resented William's refusal of his
former offer, but he was jealous of his intrigues with the popular
leaders; and though he did not forbid his coming, he stipulated that
he should return before the meeting of Parliament. On the 9th of
October he joined his uncle at Newmarket, and, having the services
of Danby and Temple, Charles was soon persuaded to his marriage with
the princess. James appeared at first averse from the connection, but
he soon acquiesced; and whilst Charles boasted of having made this
alliance to secure the religion of the nation, James took credit to
himself from his consent, of proving how false were the suspicions
which had been expressed of his intention to make changes in both the
religion and the State. The marriage gave universal satisfaction,
and during the festivities with which it was celebrated at Court, in
November, 1677, William engaged the king in the project of a general
peace. The following were the proposals arrived at by them, to be
submitted to the different Powers: That Holland and France should
mutually restore the conquests that they had made; that the Duchy of
Lorraine should be restored to the duke, its rightful sovereign; and
that France should keep possession of the places won from Spain, except
Ath, Charleroi, Oudenarde, Courtrai, Tournai, Condé, and Valenciennes,
which should be restored, and form a chain of fortresses between the
new frontier of France and the old ones of Holland. Charles despatched
Lord Feversham to lay the proposals before Louis; but the French king
would not listen to them, and tidings reached William which caused him
immediately to hasten home.

In spite of the season, the end of November, Louis had taken the field,
according to his novel plan of winter campaign, and invested Guislain,
which was expected to fall in a few days.

This decisive conduct on the part of Louis roused the wrath of Charles;
he had adjourned Parliament from the 16th of April to the 15th of
January. He expressed his surprise to Louis at the unreasonableness of
his conduct, and despatched directions to Hyde, the ambassador at the
Hague, to enter into a separate treaty with the States, on the model of
the Triple Alliance, engaging not only to defend each other against all
aggressors, but to continue to force the other parties to come to fair
terms. Such a treaty was signed at the Hague on the 31st of December.
Louis, on hearing of it, stopped the payment of Charles's pension, but
at the same time he proposed, through Montagu, the English ambassador,
a truce of twelve months, during which all might be arranged, and
then he threw out a bait which he knew would be extremely tempting
to Charles,--that if he could persuade his nephew to consent to the
cession of Condé, Valenciennes, and Tournai, their full value should
be paid to the king in bars of gold, concealed in bales of silk, and
any sum that the Lord Treasurer might name in reward of his services
should be remitted in diamonds and pearls. But both Danby and the Duke
of York set their faces against any such disgraceful compromise; Danby
remaining steady to his views of the danger of the French ascendency,
and the duke being zealous for the interests of his new son-in-law,
and in the hope of receiving the command of any auxiliary force sent
from England to co-operate with Holland. At the duke's suggestion the
English forces were recalled from the army of France, a strong squadron
was sent to the Mediterranean to reinforce the fleet under Sir John
Narborough, and the Port of Ostend was demanded from Spain as a depôt
for the English army in Flanders.

This unusual vigour induced Louis to set in motion the forces of the
Opposition both in England and Holland. To Barillon, his ambassador
at London, he sent over the younger Ruvigny, who was related to
Lady Vaughan, and intimate with the Russell family. The ambassadors
first tried to bring Charles over again by the most liberal offers
of money; they warned him to beware of the pernicious counsels of
Danby, who was seeking popularity; and to Danby himself they paid the
highest compliments, and begged him to use his influence with the
king. Charles, who never long resisted the temptations of money, was
not, however, yet to be moved, and the ambassadors then tried their
influence with the Opposition. They found Holles and Lord William
Russell extremely hostile to the Court, but suspicious of a secret
engagement between Charles and Louis. This suspicion the ambassadors
did their best to root out, and Holles and Russell engaged to attach
to the supply conditions which should cause the king to reject it.
The ambassadors promised that Louis, on his part, should use all his
influence to cause a dissolution of Parliament, and to ruin Danby,
measures which the Opposition desired. They even offered money to the
Opposition, and asked Lord William Russell to give them the names of
such persons as they should reward for their services in this matter.
Russell repelled the offer with indignation, and replied that he
should be sorry to have anything to do with men who could be bought
with money. They did not, however, find others of the patriots quite
so scrupulous. Louis, at the same time, was at work at the Hague,
insinuating through his agents that William, now connected with
England, was joined with Charles, whom the Dutch most cordially hated,
in a common scheme for ruling Holland and England by a military force,
and that their only safety lay in peace and disbandment of troops.
Their arts were so successful, that the Dutch began to cry for peace on
any terms.

When Parliament met on the 28th of January, Charles announced that
he had made a league, offensive and defensive, with Holland, for the
protection of Flanders, and that if France would not consent to a
peace on fair terms, they would endeavour to force it; but that he
should require to put ninety ships into commission, and raise thirty
or forty thousand troops, and a liberal supply would be necessary
to defray the cost. This was the very thing that the Country party
had been clamouring for, but they had now been drawn into a false
position by the acts of Louis; and though they could not condemn the
proposals, they declared that no peace ought to be made with France,
except such as should restrain that country to the limits set by the
treaty of the Pyrenees. This, under the present circumstances, it
would be folly to ask of Louis, and Charles reproached the Opposition
with the inconsistency of their conduct, in throwing obstacles in the
way of the very measure they had clamoured for, especially after he
had followed their own advice in making the treaty with Holland. The
Ministry, however, carried a vote for the maintenance of the necessary
fleet and army, and a supply was granted on general taxes to cover the
expenditure.

Meanwhile Louis had pushed his military operations forward in the
Netherlands with a vigour which confounded his enemies. Towards the
end of January he proceeded from Paris to Metz; Namur and Mons were
invested, and before the end of March he had made himself master of
Ypres and Ghent. By this means he had opened a road into the very
heart of Holland, and exposed Brussels to his attacks; and both on the
Continent and in England the cry was now for more vigorous measures.
Three thousand soldiers were sent by Charles to Ostend, and the levy
of forces was proceeded with briskly. But the more Charles exerted
himself to raise troops and prepare actively for war, the more the
Opposition expressed their suspicions of the use intended for these
troops. Russell talked of Popery, and Sir Gilbert Gerrard declared that
the forces would never be used against any foreign enemy; that their
object was nearer home. They demanded, therefore, that the king should
at once declare war against France, recall his Commissioners from
Nimeguen, and dismiss the French ambassador. This language on the part
of men many of whom had been receiving their money to compel a peace
advantageous to France, surprised not a little Barillon and Ruvigny,
who remonstrated with Holles and Russell, Shaftesbury and Buckingham.
But they were told that the real object was to embarrass the king
in raising these troops; for that, once raised, he would secure the
leaders of the Opposition, and then would obtain from the slavish
Parliament any supplies that he might demand, thus at once making
himself independent of Parliament and of Louis.

That the Opposition had grounds for their fears there was little
question, and the French envoys were obliged to be satisfied with this
odd-looking sort of friendship. Charles undoubtedly had rather have the
army and the supplies than go to war with Louis; and the consternation
of the confederates now opened up to him a new chance of obtaining
Louis's money, and keeping the peace. Both the Prince of Orange and
Spain, by its ambassadors, informed him that they would now no longer
object to the cession of Tournai and Valenciennes, if France would
restore the other five towns, with Ypres and Ghent. Charles, who now
thought all difficulty removed, hastened to write these conditions
to Louis, and so confident was he that they would be accepted, that
he caused Danby to add, in a private letter, that if the peace were
effected on these terms, he should expect a pension of six millions of
livres for the next three years for his services. In a postscript the
king himself wrote, "This is writ by my order.--C. R." This letter,
afterwards produced against Danby, occasioned his ruin.

But Louis was not so easily satisfied after his recent victories. He
demanded Ypres and Condé as well as Tournai and Valenciennes. Charles
professed to be disgusted with this grasping disposition, but both
Holland and Spain expressed their willingness to yield. The conquest
of Ghent and French gold produced their effect, and an armistice was
entered into to allow time for preparing the articles of peace. To
satisfy Charles, Louis assented to his demand of a pension of six
million livres, on condition that he bound himself to break with
Holland if it refused to sign the treaty on the conditions now offered,
to recall his troops from Flanders, to reduce his army to six thousand
men, and to prorogue and then dissolve Parliament.

When Parliament met on the 23rd of May, they demanded that Charles
should immediately declare war or disband the whole of the troops
recently raised. They voted two hundred thousand pounds on condition
that the troops should be at once paid off with it, and two hundred
thousand pounds more for the navy. The king asked for three hundred
thousand pounds a year in addition to his present income, to enable
him to punish the pirates of Algiers, and take that position in the
Continental politics which the rank of England required; but to this
the Commons turned a deaf ear.

[Illustration: SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE. (_After the Portrait by Sir Peter
Lely._)]

By the middle of June the plenipotentiaries at Nimeguen had settled
all the preliminaries of peace, and were on the point of signing,
when Louis started another difficulty--that he would continue to hold
the six towns stipulated to be restored to Spain, till the Emperor
of Germany had restored the conquests made from his ally, the King
of Sweden. The confederates refused to admit any such condition, and
preparations were again made for war. Charles sent over four thousand
men under the Earl of Ossory to join the English forces in Flanders,
and Temple hastened to the Hague, to complete a fresh treaty with the
States, binding each other to prosecute the war against Louis unless
he abandoned the claim for Sweden. This might have had effect with
Louis, had he not convincing evidence that Charles was not in earnest.
At the very moment of this apparent spirit, Charles was bargaining for
more money with Barillon, in the chamber of his French mistress, the
Duchess of Portsmouth. At Barillon's instigation, one Ducros, a French
monk, was sent to Temple, at Nimeguen, desiring him to persuade the
Swedish ambassadors to concede their claims and make peace; and Louis,
by giving a hint of this fact to the States General, so alarmed them
at the perfidy of their pretended ally, that they hastened to sign
the treaty with France, without any stipulation in favour of Spain.
The Spanish Netherlands were at the mercy of Louis, and the coalition
against him was completely broken up.

William of Orange, who was extremely mortified at having to treat for
peace on such terms, and rightly attributing the necessity to the
conduct of Charles, took the opportunity to give a parting chastisement
to the French, though he had not, as has been asserted, knowledge of
the conclusion of the treaty. On the 4th of August, four days after
the signing of the peace by Beverning, the Dutch plenipotentiary at
Nimeguen, he attacked the Duke of Luxembourg before Mons. Luxembourg
had reduced the city to great distress, and had not relaxed his siege
during the armistice; William, therefore, knowing nothing, or affecting
to know nothing of the signing of the peace--though at that time it was
known in London--fell on the duke with all the forces he could muster,
Dutch, English, and Spanish, and a desperate battle took place. William
took the abbey of St. Denis in front of the French camp; Villahermosa,
the Spanish general, took the ruined fortress of Casteau, but was
driven out of it again before night. The English troops under Lord
Ossory did wonders. About five thousand men fell on one side or the
other. At night the two armies resumed their places. It was expected
that William the next day would utterly rout Luxembourg; and had the
continuance of the war permitted, might have made his long-contemplated
march into France. But the next day Luxembourg desired a conference,
and informed William that the peace was concluded, and William retired
towards Nivelles, and the French towards Ath. He had managed to prevent
the important fortress of Mons falling into the hands of France.

Scarcely had these events taken place, when William was surprised by
an overture from Charles, to unite with him, according to the treaty
between them, to compel Louis to grant the Spaniards the terms formerly
offered at Nimeguen. The motive for this does not appear clear. If
he knew of its conclusion, as he must have done, he could not expect
William immediately to violate the peace just made. Probably he wished
to appear to the Spaniards to be anxious to keep his engagement to
them, for he made the same professions to them, and on the faith of
that the Spaniards demanded better terms; but equally probable is the
idea that he wanted an excuse for not disbanding the army. William is
said, however, to have exclaimed to Hyde, who brought the message,
"Was ever anything so hot and so cold as this Court of yours? Will
the king never learn a word that I shall never forget since my last
passage to England, when, in a great storm, the captain all night
was crying to the man at the helm, 'Steady! steady! steady!' If this
despatch had come twenty days ago, it had changed the face of affairs
in Christendom, and the war might have been carried on till France had
yielded to the treaty of the Pyrenees, and left the world in quiet
for the rest of our lives; as it comes now, it will have no effect at
all." Louis resented the interference of Charles at this moment, and
suspended the payment of his pension. He, however, receded from some
of his terms, and referred the settlement of the differences with the
Spaniards and the Emperor of Germany to the Dutch. Before the end of
October peace was concluded with all parties. Holland had recovered
all she had lost, and obtained an advantageous treaty of commerce
with France. Spain had lost Franche-Comté, and twelve fortresses in
Flanders; Germany had regained Philippsburg in exchange for Freiburg;
Sweden recovered what it had lost to Denmark and the Elector of
Brandenburg; and Louis was left with a power and reputation that made
him the arbitrator of Europe.

We now come to one of the most extraordinary displays of a succession
of plots, or pretended plots, which ever occurred in the history of
any nation. From a small and most improbable beginning they spread and
ramified themselves in all directions, involving the most distinguished
persons of the State, ascending to the royal house, threatening
the lives of the Duke of York, of the queen, and even of the king.
Though defeated in their highest aims, they yet brought to execution
a considerable number of persons of various ranks, including several
noblemen and commoners of distinction. When they appeared to be
extinguished for a short period, they broke out again with fresh force,
and struck down fresh victims; and whilst much of the machinery of the
agitators remained in the deepest obscurity, the mind of the nation
was wrought up to a condition of the most terrible suspicion, wonder,
and alarm. In the half-absurdity of the charges, the half-development
of ominous truths, the public was thrown into a long fever of terror
and curiosity, and seemed to lose its judgment and discretion, and to
be ready to destroy its noblest citizens on the evidence of the most
despicable of mankind.

From the moment that some obscure indications of a secret league
between the king and Louis of France had emerged to the light, the
people were haunted by fears and rumours of plots, and designs against
the national liberty. Especially since the Duke of York had avowed
himself a Catholic, and the king had a French Catholic mistress,
and spent much time with the French ambassador, Barillon, in her
apartments, there were continual apprehensions of an attempt to
introduce Popery, and to suppress the public freedom by a standing
army. The country was nearer the mark than it was aware of, and had
it come by any chance to the knowledge of the full truth that their
monarch was the bond-slave of France, to favour its ambitious designs
of averting the balance of power on the Continent, and extending the
French empire, at the expense of its neighbours, to the widest boundary
of the Empire of Charlemagne, the immediate consequence would have been
revolution, and the expulsion of the Stuarts a few years earlier. But
as the real facts were kept in profound secrecy, all manner of vague
rumours rose from the facts themselves, like smoke from a hidden fire.

There was a party, moreover, in Parliament, called the Country party,
or, in our modern phrase, the Opposition, which now included several
of the displaced statesmen of the Cabal, especially Buckingham
and Shaftesbury. These men had no scruples to restrain them from
embarrassing the Government, and in particular from denouncing their
successful rival, the Lord Treasurer Danby. They knew well the secret
which the public only suspected; but they had been too much mixed up
with it to render it safe to reveal too much of it. But enough might be
employed to destroy the Prime Minister, and to gain another end--the
exclusion of the Duke of York and the prevention of a Papist succession.

To destroy Danby, who was thoroughly anti-Gallican in his policy; to
exclude James from the throne and secure a Protestant succession;
to compel the king to rule by a Protestant Government, and to have
recourse to Parliament for support; there certainly appeared nothing
more likely than to raise a terror of a Papist conspiracy, and to link
it sufficiently with suspicious connection with France. This was done
with marvellous success amid a wonderful exhibition of strange events,
except that of excluding James from the throne, and even this was all
but accomplished. Probably the conception of the scheme was due to the
fertile mind of Shaftesbury, and its execution to the same master of
chicane, assisted by the unscrupulous Buckingham.

On the 12th of August, as the king was walking in the park, one Kirby,
a chemist, who had been occasionally employed in the royal laboratory,
and was therefore known to Charles, approached and said, "Sir, keep
within the company. Your enemies have a design upon your life, and you
may be shot in this very walk." Charles stepped aside with him, and
asked him the meaning of his words. He replied that two men, Grove
and Pickering, had engaged to shoot him, and that Sir George Wakeman,
the queen's physician, had agreed to poison him. Charles showed very
little change of manner or countenance, but told Kirby to meet him
that evening at the house of Chiffinch, his well-known procurer, and
pursued his walk. In the evening Kirby repeated what he had said, and
added that he received the information from Dr. Tongue, rector of
St. Michael's, in Wood Street, who was well known to several persons
about the Court. This Dr. Tongue was a singular mixture of cunning and
credulity, who had long been an alarmist, and who had printed yearly
and quarterly pamphlets against the Jesuits, "to alarm and awaken his
Majesty and the two Houses." Tongue was sent for, and brought a mass of
papers, divided into forty-three articles, giving a narrative of the
conspiracy, which he pretended had been thrust under his door. Charles
referred him to Danby, and to him Tongue repeated the story of Grove,
otherwise called Honest William, and Pickering, and said he would find
out their abode, or point them out when walking, according to their
daily custom, in the park. Orders were given to arrest these assassins,
but they did not appear, and Tongue gave various frivolous reasons for
their non-appearance. It was said that they were gone to Windsor, but
they could not be found there. Charles came at once to the conclusion
that the whole was a hoax, and when Danby requested permission to lay
the narrative before the Privy Council, he replied, "No, not even
before my brother! It would only create alarm, and might put the design
of murdering me into somebody's head."

The contempt which the king showed and expressed for the whole affair
might have caused it to drop, but there was unquestionably a party at
work behind, which would not suffer it to stop. Tongue informed Danby
that he had met with the person whom he suspected of having drawn up
the papers; that he had given him a more particular account of the
conspiracy, but he begged that his name might be concealed, lest the
Papists should murder him. He moreover assured Danby that on a certain
day a packet of treasonable letters would pass through the post-office
at Windsor, addressed to Bedingfield, the confessor of the Duke of
York. Danby hastened to Windsor to intercept the packet, but found it
already in the hands of the king. Bedingfield had delivered them to the
duke, saying that the papers appeared to contain treasonable matter,
and that they certainly were not in the hands of the persons whose
names they bore. The duke carried them at once to the king.

These papers now underwent a close examination, and the result was that
all were convinced that they were gross forgeries. One was clearly
in the same hand as the papers presented before by Tongue; the rest,
though in a feigned hand, bore sufficient evidence of being the work
of the same person. The king was more than ever convinced that the
whole was a hoax, and desired that no further notice might be taken of
it. Kirby frequently made his appearance at Court, but Charles always
passed him without notice. As there appeared no prospect of proceeding
with the matter at Court, the person who had conveyed the papers to
Dr. Tongue now went to Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, an active justice of
the peace at Westminster, and made affidavit, not only of the truth
of the former papers, but also of thirty-eight more articles, making
altogether eighty-one articles. This mysterious person now appeared as
one Titus Oates, a clergyman, and it was ascertained that he had been
lodging at Kirby's, at Vauxhall, and that Dr. Tongue had also retired
thither, on the plea of concealment from the Papists. Godfrey, on
perceiving that Coleman, secretary to the late Duchess of York, and a
friend of his own, was named in the affidavit as a chief conspirator,
immediately communicated the fact to Coleman, and Coleman communicated
it to the Duke of York.

James was now more than ever convinced that, whatever were the plot,
its object was to bring the Catholics into odium, and lead to his
exclusion from the throne, and demanded of Charles that it should be
inquired into. Danby now seemed to favour the king's view of keeping
it quiet, but this only led James to suspect that the minister wished
to hold it back till Parliament met, when its disclosure might be
useful in an impeachment with which he was menaced. Charles, at
the duke's renewed entreaty, reluctantly ordered Tongue and Oates
to appear before the Privy Council. Accordingly Titus Oates, soon
to become so notorious, appeared before the Council on the 28th of
September, 1678, in a clerical gown and a new suit of clothes, and with
an astonishing assurance delivered in writing the following strange
story. The Pope, he said, claimed Great Britain and Ireland, on the
ground of the heresy of the prince and people, and had commanded the
Jesuits to take possession of it for him. De Oliva, general of the
Order, had arranged everything for this purpose, and had named under
the seal of the Society, all the persons to fill the offices of the
State. Lord Arundel was created Lord Chancellor; Lord Powis, Treasurer;
Sir William Godolphin, Privy Seal; Coleman, Secretary of State; Lord
Bellasis, General of the Army; Lord Peters, Lieutenant-General; Lord
Stafford, Paymaster. All inferior offices, and all the dignities of
the Church were filled up, many of them with Spaniards and other
foreigners. Moreover, the Jesuits were dispersed throughout Ireland,
organising insurrections and massacres; in Scotland they were acting
under the guise of Covenanters; in Holland they were raising a French
party against the Prince of Orange, and in England preparing for the
murder of the king, and of the duke, too, if he did not consent to the
scheme. They had no lack of money. They had one hundred thousand pounds
in the bank, had sixty thousand pounds in yearly rents, had received
from La Chaise, the confessor of the French king, a donation of ten
thousand pounds, and a promise from De Corduba, the Provincial of New
Castile, of as much more. In March last a man named Honest William, and
Pickering, a lay brother, had been commissioned to shoot the king at
Windsor, and had been severely punished for the failure of the attempt.
On the 24th of April a consultation had been held by Jesuits from all
parts, at the White Horse Tavern in the Strand, to decide on the mode
of killing the king; when three sets of assassins were engaged--the
two already mentioned, two Benedictine monks, Coniers and Anderton,
and four Irishmen. Ten thousand pounds had been offered to Wakeman,
the queen's physician, to poison the king, but he had refused to do it
for less than fifteen thousand pounds, which was agreed to, and five
thousand pounds had been paid down. He had often seen Wakeman since
amongst the Jesuits. The Irish assassins were to receive twenty guineas
each for stabbing the king. Honest William was to receive fifteen
hundred pounds, and Pickering thirty thousand masses, valued at the
same sum. They were to shoot the king with silver bullets. A wager, he
said, was laid that the king should eat no more Christmas pies, and
that if he would not become R.C. (Roman Catholic, or _Rex Catholicus_),
he should no longer be C.R. Oates averred that he had gone to the
Jesuits at Valladolid, thence with letters from them to Burgos, thence
to Madrid, back to England, thence had gone to St. Omer, and back to
England with fresh instructions. They made him cognisant of their plans
for the murder, and he saw on their papers all the names signed. Since
his return he had discovered that they set fire to London in 1666, and
had used seven hundred fire-balls, familiarly called Tewkesbury mustard
pills, as containing a notable biting sauce. Their success encouraged
them to set fire to Southwark in 1676, by which they had gained two
thousand pounds above their expenses, as they had by carrying off
diamonds in the London fire made fourteen thousand pounds. They had now
a plan to set fire to Wapping, Westminster, and the ships in the river.
There were twenty thousand Catholics in London, who had engaged to
rise in twenty-four hours or less, and could easily cut the throats of
one hundred thousand Protestants. In Scotland eight thousand Catholics
had agreed to take arms; a general massacre of Protestants was planned
in Ireland; Ormond was to be murdered; forty thousand black bills
were provided for the Irish massacre, and Coleman had sent thither
two hundred thousand pounds. Poole, the author of the "Synopsis," Dr.
Stillingfleet, and De Brunt were also to be put to death.

[Illustration: TITUS OATES BEFORE THE PRIVY COUNCIL. (_See p._ 250.)]

The recital of this astounding story was listened to with amazement
and incredulity. The listeners looked at one another in wonder at the
audacity of the man who could relate such horrible and improbable
designs, and expect to be believed, after the account which he gave of
the mode by which he professed to obtain his information. This was that
he had feigned a conversion to discover the designs of the Jesuits;
had been duly admitted to the priesthood and to their monasteries, and
finally entrusted with the conveyance of their diabolical messages.
The Duke of York declared the whole to be a most impudent imposture,
but others thought no man in his senses would come forward with such
a startling tale, and implicate so many persons of consideration
without some grounds. Where, they asked, were his proofs? Where were
the papers that had been confided to him, which would be evidence
against the traitors? Oates confessed that he had no such papers, but
that he would undertake to procure abundance if he were furnished with
warrants and officers to arrest the persons whom he had accused, and
seize their papers. This was granted, and the next day the inquiry went
on. It was objected to the letters seized at Windsor, that they were
written in feigned hands, and were full of orthographical errors. Oates
replied that that was the art of the Jesuits, who gave such documents a
suspicious look, that if discovered they might pretend that they were
forged. But Charles, who became even more persuaded that the thing was
got up, asked Oates what sort of a man Don John was, as he professed to
have been introduced to him at Madrid. Oates replied at once that he
was tall, dark, and thin. The king turned to the duke and smiled, for
they both were well acquainted with Don John's person, which had more
of the Austrian than the Spaniard, and was fair, stout, and short. "And
where did you see La Chaise," added Charles, "pay down the ten thousand
pounds from the French king?" "At the house of the Jesuits," replied
Oates, unhesitatingly, "close to the Louvre." "Man!" exclaimed Charles,
who knew Paris better than Oates, "the Jesuits have no house within a
mile of the Louvre."

These palpable blunders confirmed Charles in his opinion, and seemed
to annihilate the veracity of Oates. The king, certain of the whole
affair proving a sheer invention, went away to Newmarket, and left the
duke and Danby to finish the inquiry. But they who had set Oates to
work knew more than he did, and presently such confirmation was given
to Oates's assertions as astonished every one. At first, the clue
appeared broken. On examining the papers of Harcourt, the Provincial of
the Jesuits, nothing bearing the slightest indications of a plot could
be discovered; but not so with the papers of Coleman. This man was the
son of a clergyman in Suffolk, who had turned Catholic, and was not
only appointed secretary to the Duchess of York, but after her death
was much in the confidence of James. Coleman was undoubtedly a great
dabbler in conspiracy. He had maintained a correspondence with Father
La Chaise, the confessor of Louis XIV., with the Pope's nuncio at
Brussels, and other Catholics, for the re-establishment of the Catholic
religion in England, and he made himself a centre of intelligence
to the Catholics at home and abroad. He lived in great style, and
his table was frequented by the Whig members during the sitting of
Parliament. He sent weekly news-letters to the Catholics in various
quarters, and made in them the severest remarks on the ambition of the
French king and the conduct of the English Government. Yet all this
time he was importuning Louis to furnish money for the establishment
of the Catholic Church in England again. He obtained three thousand
five hundred pounds from the bankers whom Charles had broken faith
with on the shutting of the Exchequer, on pretence of influence with
Parliament, and two thousand five hundred pounds from Barillon, to
distribute amongst members of Parliament.

In 1675 a foreigner of the name of Buchateau, but who was called
Louis Luzancy, had come to England, pretending to be a Catholic who
was desirous of joining the English Church, and who gave information
to some of the Opposition leaders that Father St. Germain, confessor
to the Duchess of York, had threatened to murder him if he did not
recant Protestantism. This made a great sensation, and he then said
he had made the discovery of a Popish plot, in which the king was to
be killed, and the streets of London were to run with the blood of
massacred Protestants. Though it was soon shown by Du Maresque, a
French Protestant clergyman, that Luzancy had fled from France for
forgery, and a swindling transaction at Oxford soon proved that he
was a great scoundrel, yet his story won him much patronage: he was
ordained and presented to the living of Dovercourt, in Essex, during
this present year. His pretended plot was very like this of Oates's,
and might possibly be its model. He had accused Coleman of similar
practices, but Coleman had boldly faced him and put him to silence.
But now Coleman had fled, itself a sign of guilt; amongst his papers
were found abundant evidence of his correspondence with the French
Court in 1674, 1675, and 1676. In one letter he said to La Chaise, "We
have here a mighty work upon our hands, no less than the conversion of
three kingdoms, and by that, perhaps, the utter subduing of a pestilent
heresy, which has for a long time domineered over a great part of this
northern world. There never were such hopes of success since the days
of Queen Mary." He declared the duke devoted to the cause and also
to the French king. He said, "I can scarcely believe myself awake, or
the thing real, when I think of a prince in such an age as we live in
converted to such a degree of zeal and piety as not to regard anything
in the world in comparison of God Almighty's glory, the salvation of
his own soul, and the conversion of our poor kingdom." He declared that
Charles was inclined to favour the Catholics, and that money would
do anything with him. "Money cannot fail of persuading the king to
anything. There is nothing it cannot make him do, were it ever so much
to his prejudice. It has such absolute power over him he cannot resist
it. Logic built upon money has in our Court more powerful charms than
any other sort of argument." Therefore he recommended three hundred
thousand pounds to be sent over on condition that Parliament should be
dissolved.

These discoveries perfectly electrified the public. That there was
a plot they now had no doubt whatever, and the information touching
so close on the real secret of Charles's pension, must have startled
even him. Coleman, in these letters, stated that Parliament had
been postponed in 1675 till April, to serve the French designs, by
preventing Holland from obtaining assistance from England. Yet when
Oates had been confronted with Coleman before his flight, though Oates
pretended great intimacy with him, he actually did not recognise
him. Another proof, if any were wanted, that Oates was acting on the
knowledge of others, not on his own. Whoever they were, they had become
acquainted with Coleman's French correspondence, and who so likely as
Shaftesbury and the Whigs who used to frequent this man's house, and
who were themselves deep in a similar intrigue with the French Court?

Still more astounding events, however, followed close on this
discovery. No sooner was this discovery in the letters of Coleman made,
than Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, the magistrate before whom Oates had made
his affidavit of the plot, who was a particular friend of Coleman's,
and had warned him of his danger, was missing, and was found murdered
amongst some bushes in a dry ditch between Primrose Hill and Old St.
Pancras Church. Godfrey was of a sensitive disposition, which sometimes
approached to insanity. On the apprehension of Coleman, Godfrey had
been seized with great alarm, and expressed his conviction that he
should be the first martyr of this plot. On the 12th of October he
burnt a large quantity of papers, and that day he was seen hurrying
about the town in a state of serious absent-mindedness. From that day
he was missing, and it was not till the sixth day that his body was
found. He lay forward, resting on his knees, his breast, and the left
side of his face. His sword was thrust through his heart with such
violence, that it appeared at his back. His cane was stuck upright in
the bank, his gloves lay near it on the grass, his rings were on his
fingers, and his money was in his purse. All these circumstances seemed
to indicate suicide; and to confirm it, it was reported that when the
sword was withdrawn, it was followed by a rush of blood. This, however,
the doctors denied, and on being stripped, the purple mark round his
neck showed that he had been strangled, and then thrust through, and
his body, cane, and gloves so disposed as to persuade the parties that
he had killed himself.

But who, then, were the murderers? This was never discovered, but
the public, putting together all the circumstances, declared that
the Papists had done it, and that Oates's story was all true. That
Catholics, or at least such as were in the scheme of Coleman, had done
it, appears very probable, although it has been argued that they had
no motive. But it must be remembered that Godfrey was a friend and
associate of Coleman's. He had always been a partisan of the Catholics;
he gave Coleman warning to fly; he showed great alarm himself, and
commenced burning papers. All these circumstances indicate complicity.
That he was deep in the secrets of the party, and had dangerous papers
in his possession, is clear. Coleman was in custody, and something
might be drawn out of him. Godfrey might be arrested, and a man of
his nervous temperament might reveal what concerned the lives of many
others. There were the strongest motives, therefore, for those who had
any concern in the dangerous conspiracy of Coleman, to have Godfrey at
least out of the way.

The public mind was in the wildest state of alarm and fermentation.
Every hour teemed with fresh rumours. Murders, assassinations, and
invasions were the constant talk of the panic-struck public. The City
put itself into a posture of defence; chains and posts were put up, and
no man deemed himself safe.

In this state of the public mind Parliament met on the 21st of October.
Charles informed Parliament that he had obtained more favourable terms
for Spain by his army in Flanders, but that the expense had been
enormous; the supplies were not only exhausted, but the revenue of the
next year was anticipated, and it would require a liberal grant even to
disband the army. He alluded but passingly to the plot, for it touched
too nearly on the tender ground of his French secret, but said he left
the examination of the plot entirely to the law. But both Danby and the
Opposition rushed into the question, contrary to the wish of Charles.
Danby was anxious to divert the House from the threatened impeachment
of himself, and the Opposition to establish a Popish plot, to damage
the Duke of York's prospects in the succession.

Oates was called before both Houses, as well as Dr. Tongue, and such
was the effect of their statements, that guards were placed in the
cellars under the Parliament House, to prevent another gunpowder plot;
and Charles was implored to order every Catholic, not a householder,
to quit London, to dismiss all Papists from his service, and have his
food prepared only by orthodox cooks. Committees were appointed to
search the conspiracy to the bottom. Shaftesbury took the lead in that
of the Lords, and there was busy work issuing warrants for searches and
arrests, sending out informers and officers, examining and committing
prisoners. In consequence of the charges made by Oates against Lords
Arundel, Powis, Bellasis, Petre, and Stafford, as having received
appointments from the Pope of the chief offices of State, they were
arrested and committed to the Tower.

The Commons introduced a new Test Act to exclude every Catholic from
Parliament. This had indeed been effected in the Commons in the
preceding session by the Oath of Supremacy, and the declaration against
Transubstantiation; but the present test went to exclude the Catholic
peers from their House also. It prescribed the taking of the Oaths of
Supremacy and Allegiance, and a declaration that the Church of Rome
was an idolatrous church. Such a test had been frequently introduced
before and thrown out, but in this public _furore_ it rapidly passed
the Commons, and reached a third reading in the Lords, when James,
with tears in his eyes, entreated them to exempt him from so severe
an exclusion, protesting that his religion should always remain a
thing between God and his own soul. A proviso, exempting him from its
operation, was added to the Bill; but in the Commons this passed by
only two votes. Thus the Catholic peers were excluded by Titus Oates
from their seats, and their successors did not regain them till 1829.

Under the stimulating effect of the repeated summonses of Oates before
Parliament, and his continually augmenting disclosures, both Houses
voted that "There had been and still was a damnable and hellish plot
contrived and carried on by the Popish recusants for assassinating and
murdering the king, and for subverting the Government, and rooting out
and destroying the Protestant religion." Titus Oates was declared "the
saviour of his country," and a pension of twelve hundred pounds a year
was, at the instigation of Parliament, settled on him. To increase
the effect of his disclosures, the funeral of the murdered Godfrey
was conducted with every circumstance of public parade. He had been
carried from Primrose Hill to his own house, and thousands had crowded
thither to see the martyr of Protestantism. Seventy-two divines, in
full canonicals, walked in procession to St. Martin's-in-the-Fields,
where he was buried, and they were followed by a thousand gentlemen in
mourning, including many members of Parliament. Dr. Lloyd, his friend
and Rector of the parish, preached a sermon from the text, "As a man
falleth before the wicked, so fellest thou." And he had two stout
fellows in the pulpit with him, dressed as clergymen, to defend him
from the Papists.

The fury against the Catholics now amounted to a frenzy. Two thousand
suspected traitors were thrust into the prisons of the metropolis, and
thirty thousand Catholics, who refused to take the obnoxious oaths,
were compelled to quit their homes in London, and remove to twenty
miles' distance from Whitehall. The train-bands and volunteers, to
the number of twenty thousand, were occasionally kept all night under
arms; batteries were planted, and every military precaution was taken
to prevent a surprise. The terror spread over the whole country; orders
were issued to disarm the Catholics everywhere, and every one was
compelled to take the oaths, or give security for keeping the peace.

[Illustration: THOMAS OSBORNE, FIRST DUKE OF LEEDS. (_From the Portrait
by Van der Vaart._)]

And who was this Titus Oates, who had been able to conjure up such a
storm? One of the most loathsome of mankind. His real name was Ambrose.
He was the son of a ribbon weaver, who turned Anabaptist preacher
during the Commonwealth, and managed to secure an orthodox pulpit at
the Restoration. Titus was sent to Cambridge, where he took orders,
and became a curate in different parishes, and afterwards chaplain
on board a man-of-war. But wherever he went, the worst of characters
pursued him, as addicted to a mischievous and litigious temper, and
to the most debased and disgraceful vices. Out of every situation he
was expelled with infamy, and was convicted twice of perjury by a
jury. Reduced by his crimes to beggary, he fell into the hands of Dr.
Tongue, and by him was engaged to simulate the character of a convert
to Catholicism, so as to be able to discover all that he could of the
secret views and designs of the Papists. He was reconciled, as the
Catholics term it, to the church by a priest of the name of Berry
or Hutchinson, who was first of one religion and then of another,
and nothing long, and sent to the Jesuits' College at Valladolid, in
Spain. But he was successively ejected both from that college and from
St. Omer, with accumulated infamy. Returning to England he became
the ready tool of Tongue, who no doubt was also the tool of deeper
and more distinguished agitators behind. The Jesuits had held one of
their triennial meetings at the Duke of York's. This Tongue and Oates
converted into a special meeting, for the prosecution of their great
national plot, but fixed it at the White Horse in the Strand. They then
forged their mass of letters and papers, purporting to be the documents
and correspondence of these Jesuits, planning the assassination of the
king. These were written in Greek characters by Oates, copied into
English ones by Tongue, and communicated as a great discovery to Kirby.
Such were the apparent unravellers of the alleged plot; but these
puppets had their strings pulled by far more masterly men, who were
constantly extending their ground and linking up fresh machinery in the
scheme. The weak part of the affair was, that on the testimony of Oates
alone the whole rested. Those whom he incriminated, to a man, steadily
denied any knowledge or participation in any such plot as he pretended.
It was necessary to have two witnesses for convicting traitors, and
other tools were not long wanting. Government had offered a large
reward and full pardon to any one who could discover the assassins of
Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, and in a few days a letter was received from
one William Bedloe, desiring that he might be arrested in Bristol and
brought to London to give evidence. The warrant for his apprehension
was, singularly enough, sent to Bedloe himself, who caused his own
arrest by delivering it to the Mayor of Bristol. This Bedloe turned out
to be as thorough a scoundrel as Oates himself. He had been employed as
a groom by Lord Bellasis, and afterwards in his house; had travelled as
a courier on the Continent, and occasionally passed himself off as a
nobleman. He had been seized and convicted of swindling transactions in
various countries, and was just released from Newgate, when his eye was
attracted by the reward of five hundred pounds for the discovery of the
murderers of Godfrey.

In his first examination by the king and the two Secretaries of State,
he disavowed all knowledge of the plot, but said he had seen the dead
body at Somerset House, where the queen lived, and that Le Fevre, the
Jesuit, told him that he and Walsh, another Jesuit, a servant of Lord
Bellasis's and attendant in the queen's chapel, had smothered him
between two pillows, and that they offered him two thousand pounds
to assist in conveying the body away. The next day, before the House
of Lords, he contradicted himself dreadfully, for the story of the
two pillows did not accord with the state of the body when found. Now
he said that he was not smothered, but strangled with a cravat. And
so far from knowing nothing of the plot, he confessed to knowing all
about the commissions offered to the Lords Arundel, Powis, Bellasis,
and others, and he added wonders and horrors of his own. Ten thousand
men, he said, were to land from Holland in Bridlington Bay, and seize
Hull; Jersey and Guernsey were to be invaded by a fleet and army from
Brest; an army from Spain of twenty or thirty thousand men was to
land at Milford Haven, and there be joined by Powis and Petre with
another army. There were forty thousand men ready in London, to kill
all the soldiers as they came out of their lodgings. He was to have
four thousand pounds for a great murder, meaning no doubt that of the
king, and the Government was to be offered to _one_, if he would
hold it of the Church. The king, Monmouth, Ormond, Buckingham, and
Shaftesbury were to be killed. Lords Carrington and Brudenel were named
as engaged in the plot, and were immediately arrested. When Charles
heard this astounding story, so diametrically opposed to his former
tales, he exclaimed, "Surely the man has received a new lesson during
the last four-and-twenty hours!" and no doubt he had. These additions
and improvements were constantly going on, without regard to the most
glaring self-contradictions; but the temper of Parliament made them
disregard obvious falsehoods of the most flagrant kind. So long as
there was a chance of excluding the Duke of York from Parliament, these
horrible stories were kept before the public imagination; but the
moment the proviso passed in his favour, the attack was diverted into
another and a higher channel. Buckingham had formerly endeavoured to
induce Charles to divorce the queen: now a deadly attack was made upon
her.

On the 23rd of November, a Mr. Lloyd sought an interview with the king,
and informed him that Titus Oates was in possession of information
that would incriminate the queen. Charles, who had shown more sense
than any one through the whole business, and might have crushed it
in a short time if he had had half the active exertion that he had
shrewdness, expressed his decided disbelief, yet admitted Oates to
make his statement. It was this, that he saw a letter in July, in
which Wakeman, the queen's physician, asserted that her majesty had
given her consent to the murder of the king; that he himself was at
Somerset House one day in August, with several Jesuits, and was left in
the antechamber whilst they went in to the queen; that the door being
ajar, he heard a female voice exclaim, "I will no longer suffer such
indignities to my bed! I will join in his death and the propagation
of the Catholic faith;" that when the Jesuits retired he looked into
the room and saw there only the queen. Now Oates had repeatedly and
distinctly declared that he knew of no other persons implicated except
those he had informed of; and when he made the charge against Wakeman,
had said not a word of this grave accusation. Charles was certain
that it was altogether false, but to prove the man, sent the Earls of
Ossory and Bridgewater to make him point out the room and antechamber;
but he could not do it. Charles again declared that the fellow had
been instigated by some interested person, and ordered strict guard
to be kept over him, and no one to be allowed to speak with him.
Bedloe, however, was brought forward to confirm Oates's statement, and
declared that he had overheard a conversation between Catherine and
Lord Bellasis, Coleman, and some French gentlemen, in the gallery of
the queen's chapel, in which she, after shedding tears, consented to
the king's murder. Bedloe had been careful not to point out any private
rooms for this scene, because he had made a fatal blunder in laying
the scene of Godfrey's murder in a room always occupied by the queen's
footmen, and at the very time that the king was there; and not only
was there a throng of persons all over the palace, but a sentinel was
posted at every door, and a detachment of the Guards was drawn out in
the court.

Bedloe, however, delivered his charge in writing to the House of
Commons, and then Oates appeared at the Bar, and, with a front of brass
and in a loud voice, exclaimed, "I, Titus Oates, accuse Catherine,
Queen of England, of high treason." The astounded Commons immediately
sent an address to Charles, requesting that the queen might be removed
from Whitehall, and desired a conference with the Lords. The Lords,
however, were not so precipitate; they desired first to see the
depositions made before the Council, then summoned Oates and Bedloe,
and strictly examined them. They particularly pressed them to explain
why this monstrous charge had not been produced before, and as they
could give no sufficient reason, they declined any conference on the
subject. Shaftesbury exerted himself to overrule this conclusion, but
in vain; and the charge was dropped, the king observing, "They think I
have a mind for a new wife; but for all that I won't see an innocent
woman abused." Impeachments, however, were received by the Lords
against the peers whom these miscreants had accused.

And now began the bloody work which these villains had remorselessly
elaborated for a number of innocent persons, to serve the great end of
their employers. The first victim, however, was one whom a third base
wretch, thirsting for blood-money, a broken-down Scotsman, of the name
of Carstairs, had accused. This was Stayley, a Catholic banker, whom
the man said he had heard telling a Frenchman of the name of Firmin,
of Marseilles, in a tavern in Covent Garden, that the king was the
greatest rogue in the world, and that he would kill him with his own
hand. Carstairs had gone to Stayley and told him what he professed to
have heard, but offered to suppress the fact for two hundred pounds.
Stayley treated him with deserved contempt, but he was arrested within
five days and tried for his life. Burnet, on hearing the name of the
accuser, hastened to Sir William Jones, the Attorney-General, and told
him that this Carstairs was a man of the vilest character, and not to
be believed on his oath; but Jones asked him who had authorised him to
defame the king's witness, and Burnet timidly withdrew. Firmin could
have decided what Stayley had really said, but he was kept in custody
and not allowed to appear on the trial, and Stayley was condemned and
hanged.

Coleman perished next, on the evidence of Oates and Bedloe, that he
had been plotting with the French Court; but he contended it was only
to obtain money for restoring Catholicism, and not to injure any
person. It was clear that he had received money from the French king,
and therefore was guilty of a serious crime, but it was equally clear
that both Oates and Bedloe fabricated much falsehood against him. His
own letters, however, were insurmountable evidence of his guilt. Next
came Ireland, Fenwick, Grove, Whitbread, and Pickering. Ireland, a
Jesuit priest, was accused of having signed, with fifty other Jesuits,
a resolution to kill the king, and the others of having engaged to
assist in the design. Oates swore to the guilt of the whole, Bedloe
only to that of Ireland, Grove, and Pickering, who were condemned, and
died protesting that they, before their apprehension, had never heard
of such a thing as a plot, much less had any concern in one. Bedloe
claimed to be the chief witness respecting the death of Godfrey; but
though he had unscrupulously seconded the evidence of Oates, Oates
would not support him in this case. He was obliged, therefore, to look
out for a second witness, and it was two months before he could find
one. At length, on the 21st of December, one Prance, a silversmith,
who had worked in the queen's chapel, was apprehended on suspicion, he
having absented himself from his house for several days about the time
of Godfrey's murder. The moment Bedloe saw him, he exclaimed, "That man
is one of the murderers." It was in vain that he denied it, equally
vain that he brought witnesses to prove that he did not leave home at
the time of Godfrey's death, but a week before. He was thrown into
Newgate, and loaded with irons; some say he was tortured, others that
he was worked upon by threats and promises. He confessed, and accused
three others--Hill, Green, and Berry, three servants in Somerset
House. But scarcely had he done so, when he entreated to be brought
before the king and Council again, and there on his knees, and with
every sign of agony and remorse, protested that all that he had said
was false, that he knew nothing whatever of either the murder or the
murderers. Afterwards, in prison, where he was chained to the floor,
the horror of his feelings was such, that Dr. Lloyd, who preached
Godfrey's funeral sermon, and now was become Dean of Bangor, said that
he was occasionally bereft of his reason. When urged to confess, he
again, however, repeated his former statement, but with various strange
additions; then Dr. Lloyd declined to have anything more to do with
it, but left him to Boyce, the gaoler. Prance afterwards said that
Boyce wrote many things that he copied after him, and he could see that
Boyce had been with Bedloe and Lord Shaftesbury, and that he was told
he must make his evidence agree with Bedloe's, or he would be sure to
be hanged. The first story of Prance was that they had killed Godfrey
because he was an enemy to the queen's servants; that Green strangled
him with a handkerchief, and punched him on the breast with his knee:
but finding him not dead, wrung his neck; that on the following
Wednesday night, about twelve o'clock, the body was put into a sedan
chair and taken to the Soho, and there conveyed on horseback before
Hill to the place in the fields where he was found, and where they
thrust his sword through him.

Hill, Green, and Berry stoutly denied the whole affair, and pointed out
the gross contradictions between the evidence of Bedloe and Prance; but
Chief Justice Scroggs, who presided at all these trials, and showed
himself a most brutal and unprincipled judge, overruled all that.
Mrs. Hill, who brought witnesses into court in favour of her husband,
complained vehemently that they were browbeaten and laughed at. "My
witnesses," she exclaimed, "are not rightfully examined; they are
modest, and are laughed at." The unhappy victims were all condemned,
and died still protesting their innocence. Berry, who was a Protestant,
was respited a week, with a promise of pardon if he would confess; but
he would not--a sufficient proof of the man's innocence, who would not
purchase life by a lie.

These victims having suffered, the drama of plots now produced a new
act. It was one of the great objects, as we have said, not only to
damage the succession of the Duke of York and to alarm the king, but
to ruin the Prime Minister, Danby, who had superseded the Cabal.
Intrigues were entered into with Montagu, the ambassador at Paris,
for this purpose. Montagu was, of course, in the secret of the money
transactions between the English and French Courts, and could, if it
were his interest, produce enough to destroy Danby, without letting
too much light in upon the whole foul business; for not only the king
on one side, but the patriots and the Opposition on the other, were
equally implicated. A fortunate incident facilitated their plans.
Montagu and Danby were at feud, and Danby only wanted a fair pretext
to remove Montagu from his post at Paris. In this position of things
Montagu furnished ample ground for his recall. He had made love to
Charles's famous mistress, the Duchess of Cleveland, now superseded
by the Duchess of Portsmouth. Cleveland was living in Paris a life as
little creditable as her life had been in England. But Montagu deserted
her for her daughter, and, on her resenting this, threatened if she
continued to annoy him, to expose her intrigues in the French Court,
for she was become a great political tool of Louis in his practices
on England. But Cleveland was not a woman to submit to be snubbed
and menaced even by a king, much less by a minister: she wrote at
once to Charles a furious letter against Montagu, for she had still
great influence with the king. She alleged that Montagu, who had
been employed by Charles to find out an astrologer, who had foretold
accurately Charles's restoration and entry into London on the 29th
of May, 1660, had bribed this man to give such answers to the king
as suited his own purposes. He had often told her that both the king
and the duke were fools--one a dull, governable fool, and the other
a wilful fool; that he wished the Parliament would send them both on
their travels again; that the king always chose a greater beast than
himself to govern him, and much of the like kind.

Montagu did not wait for the blow which was sure to follow this
missive, but suddenly, without notice or permission, left Paris and
appeared in England. He put himself in communication with Shaftesbury
and his party, and also with Barillon, who would be only too glad to
get Danby dismissed from office. Danby watched the movements of Montagu
with anxiety, knowing that he had the power to make fatal disclosures.
To secure himself from the attack of the Government, and at the same
time to enable him to effect his own purpose, Montagu offered himself
as a candidate for Parliament at Grinstead, but was defeated by the
influence of Danby. At Northampton he was returned by the mayor, Sir
William Temple, while the Government nominee was returned by the
sheriff; but the popular party defended his election, and Montagu
gained his seat. It was agreed with the Opposition that he should lay
a charge against Danby of treasonable correspondence with France, and
other offences, and that they should move for his impeachment on these
grounds. Besides this, Montagu had made a bargain with Barillon that
one hundred thousand livres should be paid to the most powerful of
the Opposition, for their endeavours to crush Danby, and one hundred
thousand livres to himself, or forty thousand livres of _rentes_ on the
Hôtel de Ville, or a pension of fifty thousand livres--according to the
decision of the king--if Danby were excluded from office.

[Illustration: HÔTEL DE VILLE, PARIS, IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. (_From
an Engraving by Rigaud._)]

Danby was not ignorant of the storm brewing, and it was thought best
not to wait for its bursting; but the king sent and seized Montagu's
papers, on pretence that he had been intriguing with the Pope's nuncio
in Paris; and Erneley, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, announced this
fact to the House. It was a very adroit proceeding, but Montagu soon
discovered that the precious casket containing the most important
papers had been overlooked in the search. Montagu stated to the House
that Danby had missed his aim, that the papers were safe, and a
deputation was despatched to fetch them. They returned with a small
despatch box, and from this Montagu produced two letters of Danby, one
of them the letter in which Danby solicited a pension of six million
livres, on condition that he procured a peace from the allies, and to
which Charles had added the words, "This is writ by my order.--C. R."

On the reading of this letter the House was thrown into a violent
agitation. The secret dealings of the king were partly brought to
light. It was now seen that Charles's zeal for the war was only a
pretence to extract money from the nation, and, this obtained, that he
was ready to sell the honour of the country to France; and that the
minister had consented to the infamous transaction. They immediately
voted Danby's impeachment by a majority of sixty-three, and appointed
a committee--of which Montagu was one--to draw up the articles. There
was a danger that Danby would retort on Montagu by producing letters
of his own, proving that he was mixed up with these transactions from
the beginning, and had indeed been made the medium of their proposal;
but Montagu trusted to the impossibility of detaching their evidence
from such as would have angered the country against the king. He was
right; yet two of his letters were sent by Danby to the House, one
giving information that Ruvigny was sent to London to treat through
Lord William Russell with the Opposition, and the other containing a
proposal from Montagu of a grant of money to Charles on the conclusion
of peace. These, at another time, would have produced a wonderful
sensation, but they were now cast aside to pursue the higher game, and
the next day--December 21st--the impeachment of Danby was sent up to
the Lords.

On the 23rd Danby replied to the charges by pleading that he had
written the letter from the dictation of the king, who had certified
the fact by his own hand in the postscript; that it was well known
that he was neither a Papist nor a friend to the French alliance, but
that he had reason to believe that his accuser, a man who, from his
perfidy and breach of the most sacred trust, all men must abhor, had
been assisted by French counsel in getting up this impeachment. He
denied any guilty practices, and demanded only a fair trial. There was
a motion made to commit him to the Tower, but this was overruled, and
a day was fixed on which the Lord Treasurer should make his defence.
But to defeat this, Danby now advised the king to do that which he had
repeatedly dissuaded him from--namely, to dissolve the Parliament.
Accordingly, on the 30th of December, it was prorogued for four weeks,
and before it could meet again, namely, on the 24th of January, 1679,
he dissolved it by proclamation, summoning another to meet in forty
days.

This Pension Parliament had now lasted nearly eighteen years. A
wonderful change had come over the spirit of this Parliament since its
first meeting. Soon after Charles's return no Parliament could be more
slavishly submissive. It had restored to him almost everything that the
Long Parliament had taken from his father--the power of the army, the
customs, and excise; it had passed the most severe and arbitrary Acts
for the supremacy of the Church, and the plunder and persecution of
Catholics and Dissenters. The Act of Uniformity, the Corporation Act,
the Test Act, the Conventicle Act, the Five-Mile Act, the Act which
excluded Catholic peers from their House, by which the Church and Crown
had been exalted, and the liberties of the people abridged, were all
the work of this Parliament. But in time, a different temper displayed
itself in this very pliant House. It stiffened and became uncompliant.
But this was not at all by a growth of virtue in it. Various
circumstances had produced this change. Buckingham, Shaftesbury, and
others of the Cabal ministry and their adherents, had lost place and
favour, and had organised a stout Opposition. Their chief objects were
to mortify and thwart the king, to destroy the prospect of the Popish
Duke of York's succession, and to overthrow their rival, Danby. In the
prosecution of these selfish ends, they had, as usual, assumed the
easy mask of patriotism, and had been joined by the Republican and
Patriot party. They had got up the cry of Popery, and driven the nation
frantic by alarm of Popish plots, and into much bloodshed, of which
the end was not yet. Their present attack on Danby was to thrust down
a much better man than themselves, though by no means a perfect one.
But Danby had always detested the French alliance, and the use made
of it to ruin the Protestant nations on the Continent and destroy the
balance of power, in favour of France. He had consented, it is true,
but most reluctantly, to write some of the king's begging letters to
Louis, and now the Opposition, whose hands were filthy with handling
Louis's bribe, had contrived to make him appear not the enemy, but
actually the ally and tool of France. Montagu, the great broker of
these corruptions, who had taken good care of himself, was become the
chastiser of a man who was not a tenth part so guilty as himself. But
the darkest part of this story is the share which the Patriotic party
had in this receipt of French money, and amongst them Algernon Sidney
and Hampden, the grandson of the great patriot. But in excuse for them
it may be urged that they did not vote against their consciences.

When the new Parliament met it was found to be more violently
anti-Roman than the old one. The duke's known, the king's suspected,
Popery created a feeling in the nation that nothing could remove,
and which the recent excitements about a Popish plot had roused into
a universal flame. This flame the popular party took every means to
fan; and though the Government exerted all its power, its candidates
were everywhere received with execrations, and assertions of the
bloody machinations of the Papists. The new Parliament, therefore,
came up with vehement zeal against the plotters, and with unabated
determination to punish Danby. But the warning which the progress of
the election gave was not lost on Danby. He considered that it would
be one of the most powerful means of abating the public jealousy
of Popery, if the king could be induced to send the duke out of
the kingdom. Charles recoiled at so harsh a measure, and tried the
vain expedient of inducing James to pretend at least conversion, by
sending the Primate and other bishops to persuade him to return to the
Established Church. It was of course useless, and then Charles was
obliged to advise James to withdraw for awhile, and reside at Brussels.
James complied on two conditions--that the king should give him a
formal order to leave the kingdom, so that he might not seem to steal
away out of fear; and that he should pledge himself publicly that he
would never acknowledge the legitimacy of Monmouth, who had given out
that he had four witnesses, in case of Charles's death, to prove his
marriage with his mother. This was done in presence of the Council, the
members adding their signatures, and Charles ordered the instrument to
be enrolled in Chancery. James quitted London with the duchess on the
4th of March, leaving his daughter Anne with her uncle, that the people
might not suppose that he sought to convert her to Popery at Brussels.

On the 6th of March Parliament met, and the Commons were immediately
engaged in a dispute with the Crown regarding the election of a
Speaker. They elected their old one, Mr. Seymour; the Lord Treasurer
appointed Sir Thomas Mears, one of his most active opponents in the
last Parliament. But during the interval since the dissolution, Danby
had been hard at work to convert, by some means or other, some of his
most formidable enemies. After some altercation the Commons gave way,
and Mears was appointed.

But this exercise of royal prerogative only embittered the House
to punish Danby and screen Montagu. The Lords passed a resolution
that the dissolution of Parliament did not affect an impeachment--a
doctrine which has become constitutional. Montagu had absconded,
but reappeared when his election to Parliament gave him personal
protection. Everything, therefore, portending the conviction of Danby,
Charles ordered him to resign his staff, and then announced this fact
to Parliament, at the same time informing them that as he had ordered
him to write the letters in question, he had granted him a pardon,
and that he would renew the pardon a dozen times if there were a
continued attempt to prosecute him for an act simply of obedience to
his sovereign.

But this attempt to take their victim out of their hands was resented
by the Commons as a direct breach of their privileges, and having
looked for a copy of this pardon in Chancery, and not finding it, they
learned from the Lord Chancellor that the pardon had been brought
ready drawn by Danby to the king, who signed it; and that the Seal
had not been affixed by himself, but by the person who carried the
bag, at Charles's own order. This irregularity the more inflamed
the Parliament. Powle, one of the French pensioners, with that air
of injured virtue which politicians so easily assume, inveighed
indignantly against Danby, who, he said, had brought the country to the
brink of ruin by pandering to the mercenary policy of Louis--the very
thing he had opposed,--and had raised a standing army and paid it with
French money. Moreover, he had concealed the Popish plot, and spoken of
Oates with contempt. The Commons forthwith passed a Bill of Attainder,
and the Lords sent to take Danby into custody; but he had absconded. On
the 10th of April, however, he surrendered himself to the Lords, and
was sent to the Tower. Lord Essex was appointed Lord Treasurer in his
stead, and Lord Sunderland, Secretary of State, took the station of
Prime Minister. Essex was popular, solid, and grave in his temperament,
but not of brilliant talent. Sunderland was a very different man. He
was clever, intriguing, insinuating in his manners, but as thoroughly
corrupt and unprincipled as the worst part of the generation in which
he lived. He had long been ambassador at the Court of France, and the
very fact of his holding that post between two such monarchs as Louis
and Charles, was proof enough that he was supple, and not restrained
by any nice sense of morals or honesty. He was perfidious to all
parties--a Cavalier by profession, but at the same time that he was
serving arbitrary monarchs most slavishly, he was Republican in heart.
He was especially attentive to the mother of Monmouth and the Duchess
of Portland, because he knew that they had great influence with his
master.

[Illustration: ASSASSINATION OF ARCHBISHOP SHARP. (_See p._ 263.)]

At this crisis Sir William Temple proposed to Charles a measure which
he thought most likely to abate the virulence of Parliament, and at the
same time prevent ministers from pursuing any clandestine purposes to
excite the suspicion of the Parliament and nation. Temple had always
shown himself above and apart from the mere interested ambitious and
selfish objects of the king's ministers. Whenever he was wanted, he
was called from his philosophic retreat of Moor Park, in Surrey, to
do some work of essential benefit to the nation, which it required
a man of character and ability to accomplish. He had effected the
Triple Alliance and the marriage of the Princess Mary with William of
Orange; he had refused to have any concern with the intrigues of the
Cabal; and now, when Parliament was fast hastening to press on the
prerogative, he proposed that the Privy Council should be increased
to thirty members, half consisting of officers of State, and half of
leading and independent members of the Lords and Commons. All these
were to be entrusted with every secret movement and proposition of
government; and the king was to pledge himself to be guided by their
advice. Temple augured that nothing pernicious could be broached by
unscrupulous ministers in a body where half were independent members
of Parliament, holding no office from the Crown; and that, on the
other hand, Parliament could not so vehemently suspect the tendency of
measures which had first the approbation of their own popular leaders.
The House of Commons had now driven three successive ministries from
office--Clarendon, the Cabal, and Danby--and was still bent on a
career violently opposed to the Crown. If Temple had calculated that
the effect would be to neutralise or convert the democratic members,
he would have been right; but that such a Council could ever work any
other way was impossible. The king would never long submit measures,
intended to maintain his prerogative, to a Council which was not
likely to carry his views at once to both Houses; but he might,
and undoubtedly would, in many cases, succeed in bringing over the
Opposition orators to his interest. This was the immediate effect on
most of them. Shaftesbury, Lord Russell, Saville, Viscount Halifax,
Powle, and Seymour, the late Speaker, were included in the Council.
But Temple soon found that men of such contrary views would not pull
well together, and was compelled to break his chief condition, and
compose a sort of inner council, of himself, Capel, Halifax, Essex,
and Sunderland, who prepared and really managed everything. Halifax
was a man of the most brilliant talents, ambitious, yet not thinking
himself so, but so little swayed by mere party, that he was called a
trimmer, and gloried in the title. For the rest--Capel, Cavendish, and
Powle lost the confidence of the Commons, which looked on the new
institution with distrust; Russell and Shaftesbury alone spoke out as
boldly as ever, and retained more influence in the two Houses than
they gained in the Council. In fact, the Opposition members soon found
that they might propose, but the king would not be outvoted in his own
Council. The very first measure suggested, was that all persons of
Popish tendencies should be weeded out of office, out of the posts of
lord-lieutenants, the magistracy, and the courts of law; but Charles,
perceiving that the object was to remove the staunchest supporters
of the Crown, quickly put an end to it. He called for the rolls, and
wherever he saw a name marked for removal, gave such ludicrous and
absurd reason for its retention, that there was no gravely answering
him. One objected to, he said, was a "good cocker," another an "expert
huntsman," "kept good foxhounds," or a "good house," "had always
excellent chines of beef," and the like. Arguments were thrown away on
the king, and the matter came to nothing.

On the other hand, Shaftesbury, who had been made President of the
Council by Charles himself, undiverted by this from his great object,
pursued his Popery alarms out of doors, where the king could not
checkmate him. A fire broke out in a printing-house in Fetter Lane,
and the servant was induced to confess that one Stubbs had promised
her five pounds to do it, who in turn said Gifford, his confessor, had
set him on, urging it was no sin; and he added that London was to be
set on fire again by French Papists. The absurd story soon grew into
a rumour that the Duke of York was coming with a French army to claim
the throne and re-establish Popery with all its horrors. Shaftesbury
declared in the Lords that Popery must be rooted out if there was to
be any liberty left; that Popery and slavery, like two sisters, went
ever hand-in-hand; that one might now go first, now the other; but
wherever one was seen, the other was certainly not far off. The Commons
eagerly seizing on the temper of the nation, voted unanimously a Bill
of Exclusion against the Duke of York, and that a Protestant successor
should be appointed, as though the duke were actually dead. Sir William
Temple attempted to weaken this movement by attributing it to Monmouth
and Shaftesbury, between whom, it was asserted, there was a secret
understanding that if Monmouth's scheme of proving his legitimacy
succeeded, Shaftesbury should be his Prime Minister. Probably by the
advice of Temple, Charles proposed a plan for a compromise--that in
case a Popish prince succeeded, every power of altering the law should
be taken out of his hands; that no judges, justices, lord-lieutenants,
privy councillors, or officers of the navy should be appointed without
consent of Parliament; and that no livings or dignities in the Church
should be at the option of the king, but of a board of the most pious
and Protestant divines. Shaftesbury, however, ridiculed all these
precautions, as attempting to bind Samson with green withes, which he
could snap with the greatest ease. The Commons were of that mind, and
on the 21st of May, 1679, passed their Exclusion Bill by a majority
of two hundred and seven against one hundred and twenty-eight. The
Commons followed this up by proceeding in a body to the House of
Lords, and demanding judgment against Danby. They also required that
the Prelates should not vote on Danby's case, fearing that their
numbers might give the Crown a majority; but to this the Lords were
opposed, and though the bishops offered to concede the point, the king
forbade them, as the matter involved his prerogative. The Commons
persisting in their demand, now instituted a strict inquiry into the
cases of bribery of members of Parliament by the late minister, and
ordered one of his agents, Fox, the Treasurer of the Navy, to proceed
to Whitehall in company of three members, and bring his books and
papers for examination. The king resented the searching of his house
as a gross insult, and the books and papers were refused; but Fox was
compelled to state how many members he had paid money to, and he named
twenty-seven individuals. This was on the 24th of May, and Charles, to
cut the inquiry short, suddenly sent for the Commons, and prorogued
Parliament for ten weeks. Shaftesbury was so enraged at this unexpected
obstruction to his plans, that he vowed in the House of Lords that it
should cost the king's advisers of this measure their heads.

This prorogation was, on other accounts, one of the most remarkable
eras in our Parliamentary annals, for before pronouncing the Parliament
prorogued, the king gave his consent to the Habeas Corpus Act, and
allowed the Act establishing the censorship of the press to expire. The
carrying of the Habeas Corpus Act was owing mainly to the influence of
Shaftesbury, and was a benefit of such magnitude, that it might cover
a multitude of the sins of that extraordinary man, who, with all his
faults, had a genuine substratum of patriotism in him. The press had
hitherto never been free. Elizabeth cut off the hands of Puritans who
offended her, and her successors dragged them into their Star Chamber.
Even the Long Parliament, when they abolished the Star Chamber,
declined to liberate the press, notwithstanding Milton's eloquent
appeal for the liberty of unlicensed printing. The press was at length
free, but only for a time, being too dangerous an engine to the corrupt
government which so long succeeded.

Whilst the blood of unfortunate victims of imaginary plots was flowing
in England, in Scotland the same ruthless persecution had continued
against the Covenanters. Lauderdale had married the Countess of
Dysart, a most extravagant and rapacious woman, who acquired complete
influence over him; and to find resources for her expense, he levied
fines on the Nonconformists with such rigour and avidity, that it was
believed that he really sought to drive the people to rebellion, in
order to have a plea for plundering them. Such was the woful condition
of Scotland, delivered over by the lewd and reckless king to a man who
combined the demon characters of cruelty, insult, and avarice, in no
ordinary degree. Complaints from the most distinguished and most loyal
inhabitants were only answered by requiring them to enter into bonds
that neither they, nor their families, nor tenants should withdraw from
the Established Church, under the same penalties as real delinquents.
The gentry refused to enter into such bonds. Lauderdale, therefore,
determined to treat the whole West of Scotland as in an actual state
of revolt, and not only sent troops with artillery to march into the
devoted districts, but let loose upon them bands of wild Highlanders,
and commanded even the nobility, as well as others, to give up their
arms. The outraged population--left exposed to the spoliation of the
Highlanders, who, though they spared the lives, freely robbed the
inhabitants--sent a deputation of some of their most eminent men to lay
their sufferings before the king himself. They were, however, dismissed
with a reprimand, Charles replying, "I perceive that Lauderdale has
been guilty of many bad things against the people of Scotland, but I
cannot find that he has acted in anything contrary to my interest."

At length Lauderdale's confederate, Archbishop Sharp, was murdered by
a band of Covenanting enthusiasts in Fife. There the cruelties of the
archbishop were pre-eminently intolerable. There David Hackston of
Rathillet, his brother-in-law, John Balfour of Kinloch, or Balfour of
Burley, as he is immortalised by Sir Walter Scott in "Old Mortality,"
James Russell of Kettle, and six others determined to take vengeance
on a notorious creature of Sharp's, one Carmichael, who had pursued
his levy of fines with such brutality, as to have beaten and burnt
with lighted matches women and children, to compel them to betray
their masters, husbands, brothers, or fathers. On the 3rd of May,
1679, Carmichael had been out hunting, but hearing of Rathillet and
his band being on the watch for him, he left the field and got home.
The conspirators were returning disappointed, when a greater prey fell
into their hands. The wife of a farmer at Baldinny sent a lad to tell
them that the archbishop's coach was on the road, going from Ceres
towards St. Andrews. The delighted men gave chase, and, compelling the
old man to leave his coach, barbarously murdered him. The assassins
only crossed to the other side of Magus Muir, where the bloody deed
had been perpetrated, and in a cottage they spent the remainder of the
day in prayer and praising God for the accomplishment of what they
deemed this noble work. They then rode into the West, where they joined
Donald Cargill, one of the most noted of the Cameronian preachers, with
Spreul, and Robert Hamilton, a young man of good family, and a former
pupil of Bishop Burnet's, who had been excited by the persecutions of
the people to come out and attempt their relief.

The murder of the archbishop only roused the Government to more
determined rigour, and the persecuted people, grown desperate, threw
off in great numbers all remaining show of obedience and resolved to
resist to the death. The more moderate Presbyterians lamented and
condemned the murder of the Primate, but the more enthusiastic looked
upon it as a judgment of God. They resolved to face the soldiery, and
they had soon an opportunity, for Graham of Claverhouse, a man who
acquired a terrible fame in these persecutions, being stationed at
Glasgow, drew out a troop of dragoons and other cavalry, and went in
pursuit of them. He encountered them at a place near Loudon Hill, in a
boggy ground called Drumclog, where the Covenanters, under Hamilton,
Balfour, and Cleland, defeated his forces, and put them to flight,
killing about thirty of them, including a relative of Claverhouse's
(June 11, 1679). The insurgents under Hamilton, elated with their
victory, marched after Claverhouse into Glasgow itself, but were
repulsed. They went on, however, increasing so fast, that Claverhouse
evacuated Glasgow, and marched eastward, leaving all the west of
Scotland in their hands.

On the news reaching London, Charles despatched the Duke of Monmouth,
with a large body of the royal guards, to quell the rebellion. On the
21st of June, as the Covenanters lay near the town of Hamilton, they
received the intelligence that Monmouth, with his forces joined to
those of Claverhouse, was approaching. The insurgents had soon taken
to quarrelling amongst themselves, and the more moderate section
were now for submitting on favourable terms. Rathillet and the more
determined would not hear of any surrender, but marched off and left
the waverers, who sent a memorial to Monmouth, declaring that they were
ready to leave all their complaints to a free Parliament, and free
Assembly of the Church. The duke, who showed much mildness throughout
this campaign, replied that he felt greatly for their sufferings,
but that they must lay down their arms, and then he would intercede
for them with the king. On the receipt of this answer the greatest
confusion prevailed; the moderate durst not risk a surrender on such
terms, remembering the little mercy they had hitherto received from
the Government; the more violent, with a fatal want of prudence, now
insisted on cashiering their officers, who had shown what they called
a leaning towards Erastianism, or, in other words, a disposition to
submit to the civil power.

Whilst they were in this divided state, Monmouth's army appeared in
sight on the 22nd of June. The Covenanters, therefore, compelled to
fight or fly, seized on the bridge of Bothwell, which crossed the
Clyde between the village of Bothwell and the town of Hamilton. It
was narrow, and in the centre there stood a gateway. Here Rathillet,
Balfour, and others posted themselves with about three hundred men to
defend this pass. But the army of Monmouth, on the slope of the hill
descending from Bothwell to the Clyde, commanded the opposite hill,
on which the Covenanters were posted, with his artillery, and under
its fire a strong body of troops advanced to force the bridge. Balfour
and Rathillet defended their post bravely, but the gate was at length
carried, and they were pushed back at the point of the bayonet. They
found themselves unsupported by the main body, which, on the artillery
playing murderously upon them, had retreated to Hamilton Heath, about a
quarter of a mile distant. There they rallied, and repulsed one or two
charges, and broke a body of Highlanders; but undisciplined, disunited,
and without artillery to cope with that of Monmouth, they were only
exposed to slaughter. They turned and fled.

Monmouth commanded a halt, to spare the fugitives. But Claverhouse
pursued and cut them down to the number of four hundred men, besides
taking twelve hundred prisoners. Some of the ministers and leaders were
executed, the more obstinate were sent as slaves to the Plantations,
many of them being lost at sea, and the rest were liberated on giving
bonds for conformity. The efforts of Monmouth procured an indemnity and
indulgence, which might, after this severe chastisement, have produced
the most salutary effect; but this was speedily superseded by the old,
faithless, and cruel _régime_ of Lauderdale, and the still more brutal
rule of the Duke of York.

During this time the Popish plot, with fresh actors and ramifications,
was agitated by the anti-Papal party with unabated zeal. On the 24th
of April, 1679, a Protestant barrister, Nathaniel Reading, was tried
for tampering with the evidence against Catholic noblemen in prison,
in order to reduce the charge from treason to felony. It appeared that
Bedloe had engaged him to do it, and then informed against him. There
appeared on the trial many damning circumstances against the character
and veracity of Bedloe, yet Reading was condemned to pay a fine of one
thousand pounds, and to suffer a year's imprisonment.

Bedloe, Oates, and Prance were again, however, brought forward in
June against Whitbread and Fenwick, who had been illegally remanded
to prison on their former trial, and three other Jesuits--Harcourt,
Gavan, and Turner--were now also examined, and a new witness, one
Dugdale, a discarded steward of Lord Aston's, was introduced. Oates
had little to add to his former story, but Bedloe and Prance were
prolific in new charges. It was in vain that the prisoners pointed
out their gross prevarications and palpable falsehoods. They were all
condemned, as well as Langhorne, a celebrated Catholic barrister.
The infamous Jeffreys, now Recorder of London, sentenced them, amid
the loud acclamations of the spectators, and they were all executed,
after being offered a pardon on condition of confessing the plot,
and disclosing what they knew. Langhorne was promised his life if he
would reveal the property of the Jesuits, and on its proving only of
the value of twenty thousand or thirty thousand pounds, he was told
it was too insignificant to save his life. A second time his life was
offered him if he would reveal the plot, but he replied he knew of no
plot, and all were executed with the usual horrors. Next came up for
trial Sir George Wakeman, the queen's physician, and Corker, Rumby, and
Marshall, Benedictine monks; but the diabolical perjury of Oates this
time received such an exposure, that the prisoners were all acquitted.
Philip Lloyd, the clerk of the Council, deposed that when Oates had
been questioned by the Lord Chancellor whether he knew anything
personally of Sir George Wakeman, he had solemnly sworn that he did
not, yet this morning he had charged him with different acts of treason
committed in his own presence.

Notwithstanding this rebuff to the despicable informer, the three monks
were recommitted on a fresh charge, and in every quarter of the kingdom
similar persecutions were carried on, numbers were thrown into prison,
and eight other Catholics were executed in different places.

The Duke of York was every day becoming more uneasy in his residence
at Brussels. Knowing the intrigues of Shaftesbury and his party to
advance the claims of Monmouth, he repeatedly solicited the king to let
him return, and Charles falling ill in August, at Windsor, consented,
and James made his appearance at Court, much to the consternation of
Monmouth and his supporters. The king recovering, to put an end to the
intrigues and feuds between the two dukes, Charles sent Monmouth to
Brussels, instead of James, and ordered James to retire to Scotland.
Being, as usual, pressed for money, Charles again importuned Louis for
one million livres for three years; but Louis replied that he did not
see at this period what services England could render him for that
expense: and James advised him to manage without the money, by adopting
a system of rigid economy. In August he prorogued Parliament for a
year, and endeavoured to carry on without the French king's pension.
On seeing this, Louis, through Barillon, renewed his offers, but
Charles felt too proud to accept them, and then the French king once
more turned to the Patriots, so-called, to instigate fresh annoyances.
Barillon paid to Buckingham one thousand guineas, two thousand five
hundred guineas were distributed amongst Baber, Littleton, Harbord,
and Poole; and Montague received fifty thousand livres in part payment
of his reward for overthrowing Danby. The consequences were now seen.
On the 17th of November, the anniversary of the accession of Queen
Elizabeth, an anti-Popish procession was organised by Shaftesbury and
that party, though carried on under the auspices of the Green Ribbon
Club. The bellman went first, ringing his bell, and exclaiming at
intervals, "Remember Mr. Justice Godfrey!" Then came a man in the
habit of a Jesuit, supporting before him on horseback an effigy of the
murdered magistrate, followed by a long train of men and women, habited
as monks, nuns, priests, and Catholic bishops in capes and mitres, and
Protestant bishops in lawn sleeves, six cardinals with their caps, and,
lastly, the Pope on a litter, with his arch-prompter, the Devil, by his
side. This procession, commencing in Moorgate, traversed the streets
at night with flambeaux, amid a hundred thousand spectators, who were
frantic with cries of vengeance against Papists and Popery. At Temple
Bar, in front of the club-house, they burnt the whole array of Popish
effigies, amid fireworks and rending shouts.

[Illustration: THE DUKE OF MONMOUTH.]

This exhibition of fury against the Catholics was reported all over
Europe with astonishment and awe; but, on the other hand, it roused
Charles to dismiss Shaftesbury from the presidency of the Council, and
to order James to assume his proper place at Court. Russell, Capel,
Cavendish, and Powle, seeing their party reduced to impotence in the
Council, resigned, and Essex threw up the Treasury, and was succeeded
by Hyde, the second son of Clarendon. Sir William Temple also retired
again to his rural retreat, and Sydney Godolphin became a leading man
in the Council. Both Hyde and Godolphin were men of much talent, but
decided Tories. The character of Lawrence Hyde has been vigorously
sketched by Macaulay. He was a Cavalier of the old school, a zealous
champion of the Crown and of the Church, and a hater of Republicans
and Nonconformists. He had, consequently, a great body of personal
adherents. The clergy, especially, looked on him as their own man, and
extended to his foibles an indulgence of which, to say the truth, he
stood in some need, for he drank deep, and when he was in a rage--and
he was very often in a rage--he swore like a trooper. "Godolphin," says
the same authority, "had low and frivolous personal tastes, and was
much addicted to racing, card-playing, and cock-fighting."

Between these new ministers and the Opposition the contest grew more
vehement. Shaftesbury persuaded Monmouth to return in 1680, and much
rejoicing was got up for him in public. The king was extremely angry,
and ordered him to retire, but Monmouth paid no attention to the
paternal command; and there was great talk of a certain black box, in
which the proofs of the marriage of Monmouth's mother, Lucy Walters
or Barlow, were contained. Charles summoned all the persons alleged
to know of this box and its contents, and questioned them, when there
clearly appeared to be no such box or such evidence; and these facts
were published in the _Gazette_. Still, the duke was extremely popular
with the people, and occupied a prominent place in the public eye. He
was Duke of Monmouth in England, of Buccleuch in Scotland, Master of
the Horse, Commander of the First Troop of Life Guards, Chief Justice
in Eyre south of Trent, a Knight of the Garter, and Chancellor of the
University of Cambridge; and the Opposition did all they could to
enhance his importance. The war of Whig and Tory, now the established
terms, was fierce.

Of course the Popish plot continued to play its part, its puppets being
moved, and its victims selected by the great political Oppositionists.
There was also another plot, called from the hiding-place of the
incriminating documents, the Meal-Tub plot, in which the Presbyterians
were charged with conspiring to raise an army and establish a Republic.
The chief object of all these got-up plots was to drive James from the
succession, and two parties were at work for this purpose, who agreed
so far as excluding James, but were divided as to the successor to be
set up. Monmouth was the idol of Shaftesbury and his party; William of
Orange the selected favourite of Temple, Hyde, Godolphin, and their
party--a far more intellectual and able one. Against James this common
object of his exclusion told fearfully; for the rest, the deep and
cautious character of the Dutchman, and the light and frivolous one of
Monmouth, made William's chance far the best. Shaftesbury, Buckingham,
and their adherents contrived to win over the Duchess of Portsmouth to
part of their views by concealing the rest. They represented to her
that if the king were brought to nominate his successor, as Cromwell
had done, and as an Act of Parliament would enable him to do, her
eldest son might be chosen. The bait took, especially when it was
coupled with the terrors of an impeachment in default of compliance,
which threatened her ruin and that of her children. She flattered
herself that the illegitimacy of her son might be got over, and
went zealously into the affair. On the other hand, Shaftesbury made
himself sure that if this plan were accomplished, Monmouth would be
the successor-elect. She pledged herself to use all her influence with
Charles, and she was empowered to assure him of a large supply of money
from Parliament, and the same power of naming his successor as had been
given to Henry VIII.

Charles appeared to fall into the scheme, but demanded no less than
eight hundred thousand pounds. For this he probably would have sold
his brother's birthright. The question of James's exclusion was
discussed in the Council, and Charles ordered James to return again
to Scotland. But what probably saved James was want of faith between
the leaders of the two exclusion factions and Charles, and between
each other. Each faction knew that the other had its own successor in
view, and both doubted Charles too much to trust him with the money
before the Exclusion Act was passed. Barillon, the French ambassador,
whose object was to maintain James, also came in as a third party, with
French money, to embarrass and divide them. To cut the main difficulty,
Shaftesbury determined to damage James irrevocably before the country;
he, therefore, on the 26th of October, 1680, brought forward a wretch
called Dangerfield to accuse the duke, before the Commons, of having
been at the bottom of the late plot against the Presbyterians; of
having given him the instructions to forge and distribute the lists and
commissions; of having presented him with twenty guineas; given him a
promise of much greater reward; and ridiculed his hesitation to shed
the king's blood.

The audacity of an Opposition that could bring forward so horrible
a charge against the heir-apparent, on the evidence of a scoundrel
branded by sixteen convictions for base crimes, is something
incredible. But no sooner had Dangerfield made the statement, than
the House was thrown into a wonderful agitation, and Lord William
Russell rose and moved that effectual measures be taken to suppress
Popery and prevent a Popish succession. From that day to the 2nd of
November a succession of other witnesses and depositions were brought
before the House to strengthen the charge. The deposition of Bedloe,
on his deathbed, affirming all his statements, was read; one Francisco
de Faria, a converted Jew, asserted that an offer had been made to
him by the late Portuguese ambassador, to whom he was interpreter,
to assassinate Oates, Bedloe, and Shaftesbury; Dugdale related all
his proofs against the lords in the Tower; Prance repeated the story
of the murder of Godfrey, with fresh embellishments; and Mr. Treby
read the report of the Committee of inquiry into the plot. The House,
almost beside itself, passed a Bill to disable the Duke of York, as
a Papist, from succeeding, and stipulating that any violence offered
to the king should be revenged on the whole body of the Papists. But
on the 15th of November the Lords rejected it by sixty-three against
thirty. Shaftesbury then proposed, as the last means of safety, that
the king should divorce the queen, marry again, and have a chance
of legitimate issue; but on this the king put an effectual damper.
Disappointed in both these objects, the Opposition resorted to the
cowardly measure of shedding more innocent blood, in order to have a
fresh opportunity of exciting the alarm and rage of the people against
Popery. They selected, from the five Popish lords in the Tower, the
Lord Stafford for their victim. He was nearly seventy years of age, and
in infirm health, and they flattered themselves he would not be able
to make much defence. He was arraigned in Westminster Hall before a
Court of Managers, as in the case of Lord Strafford. The trial lasted
seven days, and Oates, Dugdale, Prance, Tuberville, and Denis, all men
of the most infamous and perjured character, charged him with having
held consultations with emissaries of the Pope, and having endeavoured
to engage Dugdale to assassinate the king, and so forth. The old earl
made an admirable defence, in which he dissected most effectually the
characters of his traducers; but he was condemned by a majority of
fifty-five to thirty-one, and was beheaded on Tower Hill on the 29th
of December, 1680. The sheriffs of London objected to the order for
his beheading, contending that he ought to suffer all the horrors of
the law against traitors; but the king commanded them to obey his
order. On the scaffold the earl, whose mild and pious demeanour made a
deep impression on the Popery-frightened people, declared his entire
innocence, and the people, standing with bare heads, replied, "We
believe you, my lord. God bless you, my lord!"

CHAPTER IX.

REIGN OF CHARLES II. (_concluded_).

Charles's Embarrassments--Exclusion Intrigues--Parliament
Dissolved--The King again Pensioned by Louis--New Parliament
at Oxford--Violence of the Whigs--Charles Dissolves the
Oxford Parliament--Execution of Archbishop Plunket--Arrest of
Shaftesbury--Dismay of the Gang of Perjurers--Oates turned out of
Whitehall--Shaftesbury's Lists--Visit of William of Orange--James
in Scotland--Defeat of the Cameronians--Cargill's Manifesto--The
Duke of York's Tyranny--Flight of Argyll--The Torture in
Edinburgh--Arrogance of Monmouth--Contest between the Court and the
City--Death of Shaftesbury--Rye-House Plot--Suicide of the Earl of
Essex--Trial of Lord William Russell--Extraordinary Declaration
of the University of Oxford--Trial of Algernon Sidney--The
Duke of Monmouth Pardoned--Base Conduct of Monmouth--Trial of
Hampden--Trials in Scotland--Absolutism of Charles--Forfeiture
of Charters by the Corporations--Influence of the Duke of
York--Opposition of Halifax--Sickness and Death of the King.

Amid the contending factions of his Court, and in spite of the most
absolute destitution of money, Charles is described as being outwardly
merry.

Yet his situation would have embarrassed a much wiser man. The
Opposition, trusting to his need of money, calculated on his giving
way on the Exclusion Bill; and they kept up their warfare by speeches,
pamphlets, and addresses to the public, and by secret pressure on him
through his ministers, his mistress, his nephew, the Prince of Orange,
and his allies. Sunderland and Godolphin urged his concession to the
Opposition in Parliament. The duchess, when he sought retirement
with her, harped on the same string. Halifax, who had offended the
Opposition greatly by his determined resistance to the Exclusion Bill,
now proposed a Bill of Limitations of the authority of James in case of
his succession; and the Prince of Orange warned the king on no account
to adopt this Bill, because it would undermine the very foundation of
the monarchy.

[Illustration: ARRIVAL OF CHARLES AT OXFORD. (_See p._ 269.)]

The Spaniards complained that Louis was violating the Treaty of
Nimeguen, and called on Charles to act as their ally and a party to
the Treaty. To contend with Louis required money, even if he were so
disposed, and money he had none. Instead of answering his demands for
it, the Commons expressed their resentment of his resistance to the
Exclusion Bill, by attacking all the supporters of the king. They
summoned various Tory leaders on one pretence or another to their bar;
they demanded the removal of Jeffreys from the office of Recorder of
London, and he made haste to submit; they voted impeachments against
Scroggs and North, the chief justices, and Lewis Weston and other
judges. They sent a message to the king, that unless the Duke of York
was excluded, there was no safety to Protestantism. They voted that
the Marquis of Worcester, Halifax, Clarendon, and Feversham, were
promoters of Popery; that they and Lawrence Hyde, and Seymour, ought to
be removed from the king's council, and that till then no money could
be voted; and, moreover, that any one lending the king money upon any
branch of the revenue, should be adjudged an enemy of the country. As
they were going on voting still further resolutions of a like kind,
Charles prorogued Parliament, and then by proclamation dissolved it,
ordering another to assemble at the end of two months at Oxford.

The very naming of the place of meeting struck the Opposition with
alarm. In London they had a great protection in a strongly sympathising
population; but Oxford was notorious for its Royalist and Tory feeling;
and there Charles, amid a fiery mob of fortune-seeking gownsmen,
and a strong body of soldiery, might overawe Parliament, and direct
particular attacks against the Opposition leaders. These fears were
well founded. But the king had, in the interim, also strengthened
himself in another manner. He had first set to work every one of the
duke's friends that he possibly could, to induce him at least to appear
to conform to the demands of Parliament, but finding this utterly
unavailing, he had turned to his old friend Louis. The French monarch,
who never liked to leave Charles at the mercy of his Parliament, again
gratified his desire, and agreed to pay him two millions of livres this
year, and half a million of crowns in each of the two following years,
on condition that he should leave the Spaniards to his overbearing
encroachments. The many hints thrown out of secret treaties between
Charles and Louis had not been lost, and no written contract of this
agreement was made, but it was treated as a matter of honour, and only
the two monarchs, with Barillon on the one side, and Hyde on the other,
were included in the secret.

Being thus made independent of his Parliament, Charles disregarded
the strongest remonstrances against holding the Parliament in Oxford,
and on the day appointed appeared there, attended by a troop of Horse
Guards, besides crowds of armed courtiers, and the Opposition members
and their party, likewise armed, and attended by armed followers. It
appeared more like a preparation for war than for peaceful debate.
Charles addressed the assembled hearers in the tone of a man who had
money in his pocket. He spoke strongly of the factious proceedings
of the last Parliament, and of his determination neither to exercise
arbitrary power himself, nor to suffer it in others; but to show that
he had every disposition to consult the wishes of his subjects, he
proposed to grant them almost everything they had solicited. He then
offered the substance of the Bill of Limitations proposed by Halifax,
that James should be banished five hundred miles from the British
shores during the king's life; that, on succeeding, though he should
have the title of king, the powers of government should be vested in a
regent, and this regent, in the first instance, be his daughter, the
Princess Mary of Orange, and after her her sister Anne; that if James
should have a son educated in the Protestant faith, the regency should
continue only till he reached his majority; that, besides this, all
Catholics of incomes of more than one hundred pounds per annum should
be banished, the fraudulent conveyance of their estates be pronounced
void, and their children taken from them, and educated in Protestantism.

This was a sweeping concession; short of expelling James altogether,
nothing more could be expected, and it was scarcely to be expected
that Charles would concede that. On this one point he had always
displayed unusual firmness, and it was a firmness highly honourable to
him, for by it he maintained the rights of a brother, at the expense
of the aggrandisement of his own son. Nothing would have been easier
than to have, by a little finesse, conveyed the crown to Monmouth, the
favourite of the Protestant bulk of the nation, and for whom he had a
real affection. But the Whigs lost their opportunity; they were blinded
to their own interest by the idea of their strength, and thought
that, having so much offered, they were about to gain all. This was
the culminating point of their success; but they rejected the offer,
and from that hour the tide of their power ebbed, and their ruin was
determined.

There was another attempt to spur on the country to carry the Exclusion
Bill, by making use of a miserable pretence of a plot got up by two
low adventurers, Everard and Fitzharris. First these fellows pretended
that the king was leagued with the duke to establish Popery; but when
Fitzharris was thrown into Newgate, he got up another story, that
he had been offered ten thousand pounds by the Duchess of Modena to
murder the king, and that a foreign invasion was to assist the Catholic
attempt. The Opposition were ready to seize on this man as another
Dangerfield, to move the country by the disclosure of these plots.
But Charles was beforehand with them, cut off all intercourse with
the prisoner, and ordered the Attorney-General to proceed against
him. The Commons claimed to deal with him, and sent up an impeachment
to the Lords; the Lords refused to entertain it, and voted that he
should be tried as the king directed, by common law. The Commons
were exasperated, and declared that this was a denial of justice,
a violation of the rights of Parliament, and any inferior court
interfering would be guilty of a high breach of the privileges of their
House. They were going on with the reading of the Exclusion Bill, when
suddenly the king summoned them to the House of Lords, and dissolved
Parliament. He had, on hearing of their proceedings, privately put
the crown and robes of State into a sedan-chair, and hastened to the
House. The astonishment and rage of the Opposition were inconceivable.
Shaftesbury called on the members not to leave the House, but it was
in vain; they gradually withdrew: the king rode off, attended by a
detachment of his Guards, to Windsor, and thus, after the session of a
week, ended his fifth and last Parliament.

If the Whigs had not been blinded by their passions and their fancied
success, they might have seen the reaction that was taking place.
The long series of pretended plots had gradually opened the eyes of
the people; they began to wonder how they could have believed them,
and have consented to the spilling of so much blood on the evidence
of such despicable characters. At the execution of Lord Stafford,
instead of those yells of rage with which they had received some of
the previous victims, they cried that they believed him, and prayed
God to bless him. They might have seen this change still more clearly
in what now followed. Charles issued a Declaration of his reasons for
dissolving this Parliament;--that he had offered them everything that
reasonable men could desire, for which he had received only expressions
of discontent, and endeavours to usurp his authority; that they had
arrested Englishmen for offences with which Parliament had nothing
to do; had declared the most distinguished persons enemies to the
king on mere suspicion; had forbade any one to lend the king money
in anticipation of his revenue; had insisted on excluding the heir
apparent from the succession, notwithstanding all possible guarantees;
and that they were endeavouring to create a quarrel between the
two Houses, because the Lords would not interfere with the king's
prerogative. This Declaration, which was read in the churches, produced
a strong effect. The king was regarded as unreasonably treated, and
addresses of support were sent up from all quarters. The University
of Cambridge went the length of saying that "our kings derive not
their titles from the people, but from God, and that to Him only they
are accountable. They had an hereditary right of succession, which no
religion, no law, no fault, no forfeiture can alter or diminish." The
Whigs published a counter-address, but, still drawing their arguments
from Oates's plot, it failed to tell; this delusion had gone by, and
the opposite one of Divine Right was moving now, in consequence, with
an exaggerated impetus. The king persisted in bringing Fitzharris to
trial; the Whigs endeavoured to defend him by pleading that, being
impeached by the Commons, no other court than Parliament could try him;
but this was overruled, he was tried, condemned, and hanged.

At the same time suffered the titular Archbishop of Armagh; the last
victim of the Popish plot, and perhaps the most hardly and unjustly
used. Oliver Plunket, the archbishop, was imprisoned merely for
receiving orders in the Catholic Church, contrary to the law; but
whilst in prison some of the Irish informers charged him with being
concerned in the Popish plot; but instead of trying him in Ireland,
where he was well known and could produce his witnesses, he was
brought to England, and before his evidence could arrive, was tried
and executed (July 1, 1681). A more shameful proceeding has never been
recorded. The Earl of Essex, who had been Lord-Lieutenant in Ireland,
solicited his pardon, saying to Charles, that from his own knowledge,
the charge against him was undoubtedly false. "Then," retorted the
king, "on your head, my lord, be his blood. You might have saved him
if you would. I cannot pardon him, because I dare not." The storm, in
fact, was about to burst on the heads of those who had raised it. There
was no Parliament to defend them, and the Government now proceeded to
retaliate. The miscreants who had served Shaftesbury in running down
his victims now perceived the change of public opinion, and either
slunk away or offered their services to Government against their former
employers.

The first to be arrested were Shaftesbury himself, College, surnamed
the "Protestant joiner," and Rouse, the leader of the mob from Wapping.
Lord Howard was already in the Tower on the denunciation of Fitzharris.
The Grand Jury refused to find the Bill of Indictment against Lord
Howard; they did the same in the case of Rouse, but College was tried,
and the same witnesses who had been deemed worthy enough to condemn
the Catholics were brought against him. But the jury now refused to
believe them against a Protestant, and acquitted him. College, however,
was not permitted to escape so easily. He was a noisy and determined
leader of the people, sang songs and distributed prints, ridiculing the
king and Court, and was celebrated as the inventor of the Protestant
flail. It was found that some of his misdemeanours had been committed
in Oxfordshire, and he was sent down and tried there, where the Tory
feeling was not likely to let him off again. There the miserable
wretches, whose concocted evidence had doomed to death so many
charged by them as participators in the Popish plot, were now arrayed
against each other. Dugdale, Tuberville, and Smith swore against
College; Oates, Bolron, and others committed the political blunder of
contradicting them, and representing them in colours that in truth
belonged to the whole crew. For this proceeding Oates was deprived of
his pension and turned out of Whitehall; but College was condemned amid
roars of applause from the gownsmen. The execution of College was the
commencement of a murderous retaliation on the Whigs, as savage as had
been theirs on the Catholics. Shaftesbury, through the influence of
the sheriffs, and the vehement demonstrations of the City made in his
favour, was saved for the present by the jury ignoring the indictment,
amid the acclamations of the people, and the event was celebrated by
bonfires, ringing of bells, and shouts of "Monmouth!" "Shaftesbury!"
and "Buckingham!"

But the arrest of Shaftesbury had led to consequences which were fatal
to him, and most disastrous to the Whig party generally. Amongst his
papers were found, in particular, two which roused the indignation of
the Tory and Catholic parties to a perfect fury. One was the form of
an Association for excluding James and all Catholics from the throne,
and from political power, and including a vow to pursue to the death
all who should oppose this great purpose. The other contained two
lists of the leading persons in every county, ranged under the heads
of "worthy men," and "men worthy," the latter phrase being supposed
to mean worthy to be hanged. When this was published, the "men
worthy" sent up the most ardent addresses of loyalty, and readiness
to support the Crown in all its views; and many of the "worthy men"
even hastened to escape from the invidious distinction. The king lost
no time in taking advantage of this ferment. He availed himself of
the information contained in these lists, and struck out the most
prominent "worthy men" in office and commission. As the Dissenters had
supported Shaftesbury and his party, he let loose the myrmidons of
persecution against them, and they were fined, distrained upon, and
imprisoned as remorselessly as ever. He determined to punish the City
for its partisanship, and by a _quo warranto_ to inquire into its many
different privileges.

At this critical moment William of Orange proposed to pay a visit to
his uncles, which his loving father-in-law, James, strenuously opposed,
but which the easy Charles permitted. It was soon seen that William,
though his ostensible object was to induce Charles to enter into a
league against France--whose king continued, in spite of treaties, to
press on his encroachments,--yet was courted by the Exclusionists, even
by Monmouth, as well as Lord William Russell and other Whigs. With all
his habitual caution he could not avoid letting it be seen that he was
proud of the courtship. He even consented to accept an invitation from
the City to dinner, to the great disgust of the Court, which was in
high dudgeon at the conduct of the sheriffs, and William soon returned.
His object was to ascertain the strength of the Whig party, and though
the tide was rapidly running against it at that moment, he went back
with the conviction that some violent change was not very far off.
Though Charles promised William to join the alliance against France,
and call a Parliament, no sooner was the prince gone than he assured
Louis that he was his friend, and received a fresh bribe of a million
of livres to allow France to attack Luxembourg, one of the main keys of
Holland.

James, during these months, had been distinguishing himself in Scotland
in a manner which promised but a poor prospect to Protestantism should
he ever come to the throne. After the battle of Bothwell Bridge,
the Covenanting party seemed for awhile to have sunk into the earth
and disappeared; but ere long there was seen emerging again from
their hiding-places the more determined and enthusiastic section
which followed Donald Cargill and Richard Cameron. These so-called
Cameronians believed that Charles Stuart, by renouncing the Solemn
League and Covenant, had renounced all right to rule over them; and
Cameron, with some twenty of his adherents, affixed (June, 1680)
on the cross of Sanquhar "a declaration and testimony of the true
Presbyterian, anti-prelatic, anti-erastian, and persecuted party in
Scotland." In this bold paper they disowned Charles Stuart, who ought,
they said, to have been denuded years before of being king, ruler, or
magistrate, on account of his tyranny. They declared war on him as a
tyrant and usurper; they also disowned all power of James, Duke of
York, in Scotland, and declared that they would treat their enemies as
they had hitherto treated them.

The host of Israel, as they styled themselves, consisted of
six-and-twenty horse and forty foot. At Aird's Moss, this knot of
men, who spoke such loud things, were surprised by three troops of
dragoons, and Cameron, as bold in action as in word, rushed on this
unequal number, crying, "Lord, take the ripest, spare the greenest."
He fell with his brother and seven others (July 20, 1680). Rathillet,
who was there, was wounded and taken prisoner, but Cargill escaped.
Rathillet was tried and executed for the murder of Archbishop Sharp.
His hands were first cut off at the foot of the gallows; after hanging,
his head was cut off, and fixed on a spike at Cupar, and his body
was hung in chains at Magus Moor. Cargill reappeared in September,
1680, at Torwood, in Stirlingshire, and there preached; and then,
after the sermon, pronounced this extraordinary excommunication:--"I,
being a minister of Jesus Christ, and having authority from Him, do,
in His name and by His spirit, excommunicate, cast out of the true
Church, and deliver up to Satan, Charles II., King of Scotland, for
his mocking of God, his perjury, his uncleanness of adultery and
incest, his drunkenness, and his dissembling with God and man." He
also excommunicated the Duke of York for idolatry, Monmouth for his
slaughter of the Lord's people at Bothwell Bridge, Lauderdale for
blasphemy, apostasy, and adultery, and other offences.

The Government thought it time to hunt out this nest of enthusiasts,
and put to death, as a terror, the prisoners taken at Aird's Moss. Two
of these were women, Isabel Alison and Marian Harvey, who went to the
gallows rejoicing. The Duke of York offered to pardon some of them
if they would only say, "God save the king," but they refused, and
congratulated each other that they should that night sup in Paradise.
Cargill and four followers were hanged in July, 1681.

James now professed great leniency and liberality. Instead of
persecuting the Cameronians, he drafted them off into a Scottish
regiment which was serving abroad in Flanders, in the pay of Spain. He
put a stop to many of Lauderdale's embezzlements, and turned out some
of the worst of his official blood-suckers. He promised to maintain
episcopacy, and to put down conventicles, and brought into Parliament
a new Test Act, which was to swear every one to the king's supremacy,
and to passive obedience. His leniency was then soon at an end, and
the object he was driving at was too palpable to escape the slightest
observation. But Fletcher of Saltoun, Lord Stair, and some other bold
patriots, opposed the design, and carried a clause in the Test Act
for the defence of the Protestant religion, which was so worded as to
make it mean Presbyterianism of the Confession of Faith of 1560. This
so little suited James that he was impelled to add another clause,
excusing the princes of the blood from taking his own test. But Lord
Belhaven boldly declared that the object of it was to bind a Popish
successor. At this frank avowal, James's assumed liberality deserted
him, and he sent Lord Belhaven prisoner to Edinburgh castle, and
ordered the Attorney-General to impeach him. He removed Lord Stair
from his office of President of the Court of Session, and commenced
prosecutions against both him and Fletcher of Saltoun. The Earl of
Argyll, however, whose father had been executed by Charles soon after
his restoration, made a decided speech against the Test, and James
called upon him at the Council board to take it. Argyll took it with
certain qualifications, whereupon James appeared to be satisfied, and
invited Argyll to sit beside him at the Council board, and repeatedly
took the opportunity of whispering in his ear, as if he bestowed his
highest confidence on him. But this was but the fawning of the tiger
ere he made his spring. Two days after he sent him to the castle on
a charge of treason for limiting the Test. James, however, when some
of the courtiers surmised that his life and fortune must pay for his
treason, exclaimed, "Life and fortune! God forbid!" Yet on the 20th of
November, 1681, instructions arrived from England to accuse him of high
treason, and on the 12th of December he was brought to trial. To show
what was to be expected from such a trial, the Marquis of Montrose, the
grandson of the celebrated Montrose, whom the father of Argyll and the
Covenanters hanged, and who was, in consequence, the implacable enemy
of the present earl and all his house, was made foreman of the jury,
and delivered the sentence of guilty. The whole Council were called
on to endorse this sentence; even the bishops were not allowed to be
exempt, according to their privilege, from being concerned in a doom of
blood; and the earl's own friends and adherents had not the firmness to
refuse selling their names. Argyll, however, disappointed his enemies,
by escaping from his cell in Edinburgh Castle in the disguise of a page
to his daughter-in-law, Lady Lindsay, and made his way to England, and
thence to Holland, where, like many other fugitives from England and
Scotland, he took refuge with William of Orange.

James now, whilst the Parliament was terror-stricken by this example of
royal vengeance, brought in a Bill making it high treason in any one
to maintain the lawfulness of excluding him from the throne, either
on account of his religion or for any other reason whatever. By this
he showed to the Exclusionists that they must expect a civil war with
Scotland if they attempted to bar his way to the throne of England.
Deeming himself now secure, he gave way to his natural cruelty of
temper, and indulged in tortures and barbarities which seemed almost
to cast the atrocities of Lauderdale into the shade. It was his custom
to have the prisoners for religion so tortured in the Privy Council,
that even the old hardened courtiers who had witnessed the merciless
doings of Lauderdale and Middleton, escaped from the board as soon as
the iron boots were introduced. But James not only seemed to enjoy the
agonies of the sentenced with a peculiar satisfaction, but he made an
order that the whole of the Privy Council should remain during these
more than inquisitorial horrors. He was thus employing himself, when he
was summoned to England by Charles, who assured him that he should be
allowed soon to return permanently, on condition that he made over part
of his Parliamentary allowance to the French mistress, the Duchess of
Portsmouth.

[Illustration: ESCAPE OF ARGYLL. (_See p._ 272.)]

The duke being allowed to return, and being restored to the office of
Lord High Admiral, and lodged in St. James's Palace, Monmouth, who had
been assured that James should be retained in Scotland, also returned
from abroad, in spite of the positive command of the king. On the
Duke of York's return, the Tories, who regarded it as a proof of the
ascendency of their principles, framed an address of congratulation,
and of abhorrence of Shaftesbury's scheme of Association. When Monmouth
arrived, the Whig party received him with still more boisterous
enthusiasm. The City was in a turmoil of delight, but in the blaze of
his popularity, Monmouth, conceiving that the Whig influence was on the
decline, endeavoured to follow the example of Sunderland, who had made
his peace with the king, and the Duke was readmitted to the Cabinet.
But Monmouth was too narrowly watched, and though he had sent offers
of reconciliation through his wife, the reproaches of Shaftesbury,
Russell, and his other partisans, made him draw back, and under
pretence of paying a visit to the Earl of Macclesfield, he set out, as
in 1680, on a tour through the provinces.

Nothing could exceed Monmouth's folly in this progress. Had he been the
undoubted heir apparent to the crown, he could not have assumed more
airs of royalty; and at a moment when the eyes of both the king and
James were following him with jealous vigilance, this folly was the
more egregious. Wherever he came he was met by the nobles and great
landowners at the head of their tenantry, most of whom were armed, and
conducted in royal state to their houses. He was thus received by the
Lords Macclesfield, Brandon, Rivers, Colchester, Delamere, and Grey, as
well as by the leading gentry. He travelled attended by a hundred men
on horseback, one half of whom preceded, and the other followed him.
As he approached a town, he quitted his coach and mounted his horse,
on which he rode alone in the centre of the procession. On entering
the town, the nobles, gentry, and city officials took their places in
front, the tenantry and common people fell in behind, shouting, "A
Monmouth! a Monmouth! and no York!" Wherever he dined he ordered two
hundred covers to be laid for the guests, and the people, conducted
by proper officers, passed through the room in at one door and out at
another, in order to see him, as if he were a king. At Liverpool he
did not hesitate to touch for the king's evil. Wherever there were
fairs, races, or other public assemblies, he was sure to appear, and
ingratiate himself with the populace, not only by his flattering bows
and smiles, but by entering into their sports. He was a man of amazing
agility, and ran races on foot with the most celebrated pedestrians,
and after beating them in his shoes, he would run again in his boots
against them in their shoes, and win still. The prizes that he thus
gained he gave away at christenings in the evening.

Whilst he was thus exciting the wonder of the common people by his
popular acts, accomplishments, and condescensions, the spies of
Chiffinch, his father's old agent for secret purposes, were constantly
around him, and sent up hourly reports to Court. Jeffreys, who was now
Chief Justice of Chester, and himself addicted to much low company,
buffoonery, and drunkenness off the bench, and the wildest and most
insulting conduct upon it, seized the opportunity of some slight
disturbances, which occurred during Monmouth's stay there, to win
favour with the Duke of York, by taking into custody and punishing
some of his followers. At Stafford Monmouth had engaged to dine in
the public streets with the whole population; but as he was walking
towards the appointed place, a king's messenger appeared, and arrested
him on a charge of "passing through the kingdom with multitudes of
riotous people, to the disturbance of the peace and the terror of the
king's subjects." Shaftesbury was not there, or Monmouth might have
been advised to throw himself on the protection of the people, and the
rebellion which he stirred up a few years later might have occurred
then, for Shaftesbury was now advising all the leaders of his party to
rise; but Monmouth surrendered without resistance, and was conveyed
to the capital, where he was admitted to bail himself in a bond of
ten thousand pounds, and his sureties in two thousand pounds each.
The king, with that affection which he always showed for this vain
and foolish young man, appeared satisfied with having cut short his
mock-heroic progress.

But though the British Absalom for the present escaped thus easily,
the war of royalty and reassured Toryism on the long triumphant Whigs
was beginning in earnest. Shaftesbury, since his discharge from the
Tower, had seen with terror the rapid rising of the Tory influence, the
vindictive addresses from every part of the country against him, and
the undisguised cry of passive obedience. The circumstances seemed not
only to irritate his temper, but to have destroyed the cool steadiness
of his judgment. He felt assured that it would not be long before he
would be singled out for royal vengeance; and he busied himself with
his subordinate agents in planning schemes for raising the country.
These agents and associates were Walcot, formerly an officer under the
Commonwealth in the Irish army; Rumsey, another military adventurer,
who had been in the war in Portugal; Ferguson, a Scottish minister, who
deemed both the king and the duke apostates and tyrants, to be got rid
of by almost any means; and West, a lawyer. These men had their agents
and associates of the like views, and they assured Shaftesbury they
could raise the City at any time.

But the tug of war was actually beginning between the Court and the
City, and the prospect was so little flattering to the City, that
Halifax said there would soon be hanging, and Shaftesbury even thought
of attempting a reconciliation with the duke. He made an overture, to
which James replied, that though Lord Shaftesbury had been the most
bitter of his enemies, all his offences should be forgotten whenever
he became a dutiful subject of his Majesty. But second thoughts did
not encourage Shaftesbury to trust to the smooth speech of the man who
never forgot or forgave.

So long as the Whigs were in the ascendant, their sheriffs could secure
juries to condemn their opponents and save their friends. Charles
and James determined, whilst the Tory feeling ran so high, to force
the government of the City from the Whigs, and to hold the power in
their own hands. Sir John Moore, the then Lord Mayor, was brought
over to their interest, and they availed themselves of an old but
disused custom to get sheriffs nominated to their own minds. Thus the
Government had a complete triumph in the City; and they pursued their
advantage. A prosecution was commenced against Pilkington, one of
the late sheriffs, who in his vexation unguardedly said, "The Duke of
York fired the City at the burning of London, and now he is coming to
cut our throats." Damages were laid at one hundred thousand pounds,
and awarded by a jury at Hertford. Pilkington, whose sentence amounted
to imprisonment for life, and Shute, his late colleague, Sir Patience
Ward, Cornel, Ford, Lord Grey, and others were tried, Ward for perjury,
the rest for riot and assault on the Lord Mayor, and convicted. In all
these proceedings Mr. Serjeant Jeffreys was an active instrument to
promote the Government objects.

But these triumphs were only temporary. The Court determined to
establish a permanent power over the City. It therefore proceeded
by a writ of _quo warranto_ to deprive the City of its franchise.
The case was tried before Sir Edward Sanders and the other judges
of the King's Bench. The Attorney-General pleaded that the City had
perpetrated two illegal acts--they had imposed an arbitrary tax on
merchandise brought into the public market, and had accused the king,
by adjourning Parliament, of having interrupted the necessary business
of the nation. After much contention and delay, in the hope that the
City would voluntarily lay itself at the feet of the monarch, judgment
was pronounced that "the City of London should be taken and seized with
the king's hands." When the authorities prayed the non-carrying out of
the sentence, the Lord Chancellor North candidly avowed the real object
of the proceeding,--that the king was resolved to put an end to the
opposition of the City, by having a veto on the appointment of the Lord
Mayor and sheriffs; that he did not wish to interfere in their affairs
or liberties further, but this power he was determined to possess,
and therefore the judgment was confirmed June 20th, 1683, and London
was reduced to an absolute slavery to the king's will. It was equally
determined to proceed by the same means of a _quo warranto_ to suppress
the charters of the other corporations in the kingdom.

Shaftesbury had seen the progress of this enormous change with the
deepest alarm. He retired to his house in Aldersgate Street, and not
feeling himself secure there, hid himself successively in different
parts of the City, striving, through his agents, to move Monmouth,
Essex, and Grey to rise, and break this progress of despotism. He
boasted that he had ten thousand link-boys yet in the City, who would
rise at the lifting of his finger. It was proposed by Monmouth that
he should engage the Lords Macclesfield, Brandon, and Delamere to
rise in Cheshire and Lancashire. Lord William Russell corresponded
with Sir Francis Drake in the west of England, Trenchard engaged to
raise the people of Taunton. But Monmouth had more than half betrayed
the scheme to the king, and the progress of events in the City grew
formidable. Shaftesbury was struck with despair, and fled in November,
1682. He escaped to Harwich in the guise of a Presbyterian minister,
and got thence over to Holland. He took up his residence at Amsterdam,
where he was visited by Oates and Waller; but his mortification at the
failure of his grand scheme of "walking the king leisurely out of his
dominions, and making the Duke of York a vagabond like Cain on the face
of the earth," broke his spirits and his constitution. The gout fixed
itself in his stomach, and on the 21st of January, 1683, he expired,
only two months after his quitting England.

The fall of this extraordinary man and of his cause is a grand lesson
in history. His cause was the best in the world--that of maintaining
the liberties of England against the designs of one of the most
profligate and despotic Courts that ever existed. But by following
crooked by-paths and dishonest schemes, and by employing the most
villainous of mankind for accomplishing his object, he ruined it. Had
he and his fellows, who had more or less of genuine patriotism in them,
combined to rouse their country by high, direct, and honourable means,
they would have won the confidence of their country, and saved it, or
have perished with honour. As it was, the great national achievement
was reserved for others.

The flight and death of Shaftesbury struck terror into the Whig party.
Many gave up the cause in despair; others of a timid nature went over
to the enemy, and others, spurred on by their indignation, rushed
forward into more rash and fatal projects; and at this moment one of
the extraordinary revelations took place which rapidly brought to
the gallows and the block nearly the whole of Shaftesbury's agents,
coadjutors, and colleagues, including Lord William Russell and Algernon
Sidney.

We have seen that Shaftesbury and his party had been seriously
contemplating an insurrection to compel Charles to adopt measures for
securing a Protestant succession which they could not persuade him
to, and that the efforts of the arch-agitator and his agents, West,
Ferguson, Rouse, Rumsey, Walcot, and others, to excite the nobles of
the Whig party to action, had proved abortive and induced Shaftesbury
to fly. Unfortunately, the royal party being now in the full tide of
retribution, the more contemptible portion of those who had been most
active in carrying on the Whig aggressions began to consider what
was to be gained by betraying their associates. On the 1st of June a
Scotsman was arrested on suspicion at Newcastle, and on him was found
a letter, which indicated agreement between the Opposition parties in
Scotland and England. A quick inquiry was set on foot after further
traces of the alarming facts; and on the 12th, the very day on which
judgment was pronounced against the City, Josiah Keeling, a man who had
been extremely prominent in the late contests about the sheriffs, and
who had displayed his zeal by actually laying hands on the Lord Mayor
Moore, for his support of the Government, now waited on Lord Dartmouth,
the Duke of York's close friend, and informed him of particulars of
the late schemes, as if they were yet actively in operation against
the king's life. Dartmouth took the informer to Sir Leoline Jenkins,
Secretary of State, who had been extremely active in the proceedings
against the City. The story which Keeling laid before Sir Leoline was
to the following appalling purport:--That in the month of March last,
when the king and Duke of York were about to proceed to Newmarket, to
the races, Goodenough, the late Under Sheriff, one of Shaftesbury's
most busy men in the City, lamenting the slavery to which the City was
fast being reduced, asked him how many men he could engage to kill the
king and the duke too; that he had repeated the same question to him
whilst the king and the duke were there; and that he then consented to
join the plot, and to endeavour to procure accomplices. Accordingly,
he engaged Burton, a cheesemonger, Thompson, a carver, and Barber, an
instrument-maker of Wapping. They then met with one Rumbold, a maltster
at the "Mitre" Tavern, without Aldgate, where it was settled to go down
to a house that Rumbold had, called the Rye House, on the River Lea,
near Hoddesdon, in Hertfordshire, and there execute their design. This
house lay conveniently by the wayside, and a number of men concealed
under a fence could easily shoot down the king's postilion and horses,
and then kill him and the duke, and the four guards with them. If they
failed to stop the carriage, a man placed with a cart and horse in a
cross lane a few paces farther on was to run his horse and cart athwart
the road, and there stop it, till they had completed their design.
From this circumstance the plot obtained the name of the Rye House Plot.

At a subsequent meeting at the "Dolphin," behind the Exchange, there
was a disagreement as to the time when the king would return, and thus
they missed the opportunity, for Rumbold, who went down, said the king
and duke passed the place with only five Life-Guards. Various other
plans were then laid--one to cut off the king between Windsor and
Hampton Court.

Secretary Jenkins, after listening to this recital, told Keeling that
it would require another witness to establish a charge of treason
against the conspirators, and Keeling fetched his brother John, who
swore with him to these and many other particulars--namely, that
Goodenough had organised a plan for raising twenty districts in the
City, and that twenty thousand pounds were to be distributed amongst
the twenty managers of these districts; that the Duke of Monmouth was
to head the insurrection, a person called the colonel was to furnish
one thousand pounds, and different men in different parts of the
country were to raise their own neighbourhoods; that the murder was
now to come off at the next bull-feast in Red Lion Fields. Two days
afterwards they added that Goodenough had informed them that Lord
William Russell would enter heart and soul into the design of killing
the king and the Duke of York.

A proclamation was immediately issued for the arrest of Rumbold,
Colonel Rumsey, Walcot, Wade, Nelthorp, Thompson, Burton, and Hone; but
it was supposed that John Keeling, who had been reluctantly dragged
into the affair by Josiah, had given them warning, and they had all
got out of the way. Barber, the instrument-maker of Wapping, however,
was taken, and declared that he had never understood that the design
was against the king, but only against the duke. West soon surrendered
himself, and, in hope of pardon, gave most extensive evidence against
Ferguson and a dozen others; like Oates and Bedloe, continually
adding fresh facts and dragging in fresh people. He said Ferguson had
brought money to buy arms; that Wildman had been furnished with means
to buy arms; that Lord Howard of Escrick had gone deeply into it;
that Algernon Sidney and Wildman were in close correspondence with
the conspirators in Scotland; that at meetings held at the "Devil
Tavern," it was projected to shoot the king in a narrow street as he
was returning from the theatre; that they had hinted something of their
design to the Duke of Monmouth, but not the killing part of it, but
that he had sternly replied they must look on him as a son; and then
the relations of this wretched turncoat lawyer assumed all the wildness
of a Bluebeard story. Ferguson would hear of nothing but killing. The
new Lord Mayor, the new sheriffs Rich and North, were to be killed, and
their skins stuffed and hung up in Guildhall; the judges were to be
flayed, too, and their skins suspended in Westminster Hall and other
great traitors were to have their skins hung up in the Parliament House.

[Illustration: THE RYE HOUSE.]

Next, Rumsey turned informer, and, improving as he went on, he also
accused Lord William Russell, Mr. Trenchard, Roe, the Sword-Bearer of
Bristol, the Duke of Monmouth, Sir Thomas Armstrong, Lord Grey, and
Ferguson. He had, he said, met most of these persons at Shepherd's,
a wine-merchant, near Lombard Street, and nothing less was intended
by most of them than killing the king and his brother. Trenchard
had promised a thousand foot and three hundred horse in the West,
and Ferguson had engaged to raise twelve hundred Scots who had
fled to England after the battle of Bothwell Bridge. Shepherd, the
wine-merchant, was called, and said that Shaftesbury, before going
to Holland, the Duke of Monmouth, Lords William Russell and Grey,
Armstrong, Rumsey, and Ferguson had met at his house, and, he was
informed, had talked about securing his Majesty's Guards, and had
walked about the Court end of the town at night, and reported a very
remiss state of the Guards on duty. He added that as the design had not
obtained sufficient support, so far as he knew, it was laid aside.

On the 26th of June a proclamation was issued for the apprehension of
Monmouth, Grey, Russell, Armstrong, Walcot, and others. Monmouth, Grey,
Armstrong, and Ferguson escaped; Lord William Russell, Sidney, Essex,
Wildman, Howard of Escrick, Walcot, and others were taken, then or soon
after. Russell was the first secured. He was found quietly seated in
his library, and though the messengers had walked to and fro for some
time before his door, as if wishing him to get away, he took no steps
towards it, but as soon as the officer had shown his warrant, he went
with him as though he had been backed by a troop. When examined before
the Council, he is said, even by his own party, to have made but a
feeble defence. He admitted having been at Shepherd's, but only to buy
wines. He understood that some of those whom he had seen there were a
crowd of dangerous designers; he should not, therefore, mention them,
but only the Duke of Monmouth, against whom there could be no such
charge. He denied that he had heard there anything about a rising in
the West or in Scotland, but only that in the latter country there were
many people in distress, ministers and others, whom it would be a great
charity to relieve. He was committed to the Tower, and on entering it
he said he was sworn against, and they would have his life. His servant
replied that he hoped matters were not so bad as that, but he rejoined,
"Yes! the devil is loose!" He saw the course things were taking; the
spirit that was in the ascendant; he knew that he had entered into
revolutionary schemes sufficiently for his condemnation, and that the
Duke of York, who had an old hatred for him, would never let him escape.

Lord Howard was one of the last arrested. He went about after the
arrest of several of the others, declaring that there really was no
plot; that he knew of none; yet after that it is asserted, and strong
evidence adduced for it, that to save his own life he had made several
offers to the Court to betray his kinsman Russell. Four days before
Russell's trial, a serjeant-at-arms, attended by a troop of horse,
was sent to Howard's house at Knightsbridge, and after a long search
discovered him in his shirt in the chimney of his room. His conduct
when taken was most cowardly and despicable, and fully justified
the character that he had of being one of the most perfidious and
base of men. He wept, trembled, and entreated, and begging a private
interview with the king and duke, he betrayed his associates to save
himself. Russell had always had a horror and suspicion of him, but
he had managed to captivate Sidney by his vehement professions of
Republicanism, and by Sidney and Essex he had been induced to tolerate
the traitor. The Earl of Essex was taken at his house at Cassiobury,
and was escorted to town by a party of horse. He might have escaped
through the assistance of his friends, but he deemed that his flight
would tend to condemn his friend Russell, and he refused.

He was a man of a melancholy temperament, but he bore up bravely
till he was shut up in the Tower, in the same cell where his wife's
grandfather, the Earl of Northumberland, in the reign of Elizabeth,
had died by his own hands or those of an assassin, and from which
his father, the Lord Capel, had been led to execution under the
Commonwealth. He now became greatly depressed. The rest of the
prisoners--Sidney, Hampden, Armstrong, Baillie of Jerviswood, and
others, both Scottish and English--displayed the most firm bearing
before the Council, and refused to answer the questions put to
them. Sidney told the king and his ministers that if they wished to
incriminate him, it was not from himself that they would get their
information.

Lord William Russell was brought to trial on the 13th of July, at the
Old Bailey. He was charged with conspiring the death of the king, and
consulting to levy war upon him. Intense interest was attached to
this trial, in consequence of the high character of the prisoner, and
because it must decide how far the Whig leaders were concerned in the
designs of lower conspirators. He requested a delay till afternoon
or next morning, because material witnesses had not arrived, but the
Attorney-General, Sir Robert Sawyer, replied, "You would not have given
the king an hour's notice for saving his life; the trial must proceed."
He then requested the use of pen, ink, and paper, and for permission
to avail himself of the documents he had with him. These requests were
granted, and he then asked for some one to help him to take notes;
and the court replied that he might have the service of any of his
servants for that purpose. "My lord," said Russell, addressing Chief
Justice Pemberton, "my wife is here to do it." This observation, and
the lady herself then rising up to place herself at her husband's side
to perform this office, produced a lively sensation in the crowd of
spectators. The daughter of the excellent and popular Lord Southampton
thus devoting herself to assist her husband in his last extremity, was
an incident not likely to lose its effect on the mind of Englishmen,
and the image

"Of that sweet saint who sat by Russell's side"

has ever since formed a favourite theme for the painter and the poet.

The witnesses first produced against him were Rumsey and Shepherd.
Rumsey deposed that the prisoner had attended a meeting at Shepherd's
for concerting a plan to surprise the king's Guards at the Savoy and
the Mews, and Shepherd confirmed this evidence. Russell admitted the
being at Shepherd's, and meeting the persons alleged, but denied the
object stated so far as he himself was concerned, or so far as he had
heard or understood. The last and most infamous witness was Lord Howard
of Escrick, a man of ability and address, but a thorough profligate,
and generally despised, and by Russell himself long suspected. Yet even
he seemed to feel the infamy of his position, and to give his evidence
with shame. Whilst in the midst of it, the Court was electrified by the
news that the Earl of Essex had that moment committed suicide in his
cell. He had called for a razor, shut himself up in a closet, and cut
his throat so effectually that he had nearly severed his head from his
body. When the news, however, reached the court of the Old Bailey, the
sensation was intense. The witness himself was greatly agitated by it,
and Jeffreys, who was counsel for the Crown, seized upon it to damage
the cause of the prisoner at the bar. He argued that the very act
showed the conscious guilt of Essex, who had been constantly mixed up
in the proceedings of Russell.

Howard swore that he had heard from Monmouth, Walcot, and others, that
Russell had been deeply concerned with the conspirators, and especially
their head, Lord Shaftesbury. He alleged that Russell had taken part in
two discussions at Hampden's, where they had arranged the treasonable
correspondence with the Earl of Argyll and his adherents in Scotland;
and was aware of the agent, one Aaron Smith, being sent to Scotland
for the purpose of organising their co-operation. Being pressed to say
whether Lord William took an active part in these discussions, he did
not plainly assert that he did, as he said he was well known to be
cautious and reserved in his discourse, but that all was understood,
and he appeared to consent to everything. Russell admitted having been
at those meetings, but again denied any knowledge of any such designs,
and declared that Lord Howard's evidence was mere hearsay evidence,
and of no legal weight whatever; and that, moreover, Howard had
positively declared repeatedly that there was no plot, and had sworn to
his (Russell's) innocence. On this Howard was recalled, and explained
that it was before his arrest that he had ridiculed and denied the
plot--which, under the circumstances, was natural enough--and he had
sworn to Lord William's innocence only as far as regarded a design
of assassination of the king and duke, but not as regarded his
participation in the general plot. West and the serjeant-at-arms, who
had the Scottish prisoners in custody, were also called to prove the
reality of the plot, and of their looking chiefly to Lord William
Russell to head it.

On his part the prisoner contended that none of the witnesses were to
be relied on, because they were swearing against him in order to save
their own lives. He also argued that, according to the statute of 25
Edward III., the statute decided not the design to levy war, but the
overt act, to constitute treason. But the Attorney-General replied that
not only to levy war, but to conspire to levy war against the king, to
kill, depose, or constrain him, was treason by the statute. Before the
jury retired, Russell addressed them, saying, "Gentlemen, I am now in
your hands eternally; my honour, my life, and all; and I hope the heats
and animosities that are amongst you will not so bias you as to make
you in the least inclined to find an innocent man guilty. I call heaven
and earth to witness that I never had a design against the king's
life. I am in your hands, so God direct you." They returned a verdict
of guilty, and Treby, the Recorder of London, who had been an active
Exclusionist, pronounced the sentence of death. In spite of the efforts
of his relatives, the sentence was carried out on the 21st of July,
1683.

On the day of Lord William Russell's death, the University of Oxford
marked the epoch by one of those rampant assertions of Toryism which
have too often disgraced that seat of learning. It published a
"Judgment and Declaration," as passed in their Convocation, for the
honour of the holy and undivided Trinity, the preservation of Catholic
truth in the Church, and that the king's majesty might be secured
both from the attempts of open bloody enemies and the machinations of
treacherous heretics and schismatics. In this declaration they attacked
almost every principle of civil and religious liberty, which had been
promulgated and advocated in the works of Milton, Baxter, Bellarmin,
Owen, Knox, Buchanan, and others. They declared that the doctrines of
the civil authority being derived from the people; of there existing
any compact, tacit or expressed, between the prince and his subjects
from the obligation of which, should one party retreat, the other
becomes exempt; of the sovereign forfeiting his right to govern if he
violate the limitations established by the laws of God and man, were
all wicked, abominate, and devilish doctrines, deserving of everlasting
reprobation. And they called upon "All and singular the readers,
tutors, and catechists, diligently to instruct and ground their
scholars in that most necessary doctrine, which in a manner is the
badge and character of the Church of England, of submitting to every
ordinance of man for the Lord's sake, teaching that this submission and
obedience is to be clear, absolute, and without exception of any state
or order of men." This doctrine of slaves, which Oxford would have
fixed on the nation as the badge of Englishmen, they were in a very few
years, under James, taught the practical blessing of. They had, when
their turn came, quickly enough of it, flung the badge to the winds,
and made a present of their plate to the Dutch prince, who came to
drive their sovereign from the throne.

Before the trial of Algernon Sidney took place, Sir George Jeffreys
was made Lord Chief Justice in place of Sanders, who was incapacitated
by sickness. Before this alternately laughing and blackguarding demon
Algernon Sidney, the last of the republicans, was arraigned at the bar
of the King's Bench on the 7th of September, 1683. Rumsey, Keeling, and
West were brought against him, as against Russell, but the main witness
was the despicable Lord Howard, whom Evelyn truly calls, "That monster
of a man, Lord Howard of Escrick." On their evidence he was charged
with being a member of the Council of six, sworn to kill the king and
overturn his Government; with having attended at those meetings already
mentioned at Hampden's, Russell's, and Shepherd's; and with having
undertaken to send Aaron Smith to Scotland, to concert a simultaneous
insurrection, and to persuade the leading Scottish conspirators to come
to London, on pretence of proceeding to Carolina.

Sidney, after Howard had delivered his evidence, was asked if he had
any questions to put to the witness, but he replied with the utmost
scorn, that "he had no questions to ask such as him!" "Then," said the
Attorney-General, "silence--you know the rest of the proverb." The
difficulty remained to prove Sidney's treason, for there were no two
witnesses able or willing to attest an overt act. But if it depended
on the existence of fact, there was not one of the Council of six who
was not guilty of really conspiring to drive out the next successor
to the Crown. Neither Russell, nor Hampden, nor Sidney, though they
laboured in self-defence to prove the plot improbable, ever really
denied its existence. They knew that it did exist, and were too honest
to deny it, though they notoriously sought to evade the penalty of it,
by contending that nothing of the kind was or could be proved. But
what said Hampden himself after the Revolution, before a committee
of the House of Lords? Plainly, "that the coming into England of King
William was nothing else but the continuation of the Council of Six."
The conspiracy by that time was become in the eyes of the Government
no longer a crime, but a meritorious fact. The injustice thus done to
these patriots was not that they had not committed treason against the
existing Government, but that they were condemned on discreditable and
insufficient evidence. When men conspire to get rid of a tyrannous
government by force, they commit what is legally rendered treason, and
must take the consequence, if detected by the ruling powers. But that
circumstance does not render the attempt less meritorious, and if it
succeeds they have their reward. In this case the prisoners knew very
well that if their real doings could be proved against them, they must
fall by the resentment of those whom they sought to get rid of; but
they resisted, and justly, being condemned on the evidence of traitors
like Lord Howard, and even then by evidence less than the law required.

To make out the two necessary witnesses in this case, the
Attorney-General brought forward several persons to prove that the
Scottish agents of conspiracy for whom Sidney had sent had actually
arrived in London; but he relied much more on a manuscript pamphlet
which was found in Sidney's desk when he was arrested. This pamphlet
appeared to be an answer to Filmer's book, which argued that possession
was the only right to power. Three persons were called to swear that
it was in Sidney's handwriting; but the chief of these was the same
perfidious Shepherd, the wine-merchant, who had so scandalously
betrayed his party. He had seen Sidney sign several endorsements, and
believed this to be his writing. A second, who had seen him write
once, and a third, who had not seen him write at all, but had seen his
hand on some bills, thought it like his writing. This was by no means
conclusive, but that did not trouble the Court; it went on to read
passages in order to show the treasonableness of the manuscript, and
then it was adroitly handed to the prisoner on the plea of enabling
him to show any reasons for its being deemed harmless; but Sidney was
not caught by so palpable a trick. He put back the book as a thing
that no way concerned him. On this Jeffreys turned over the leaves,
and remarked, "I perceive you have arranged your matter under certain
heads; so, what heads will you have read?" Sidney replied that the man
who wrote it might speak to that; and asked with indignation whether
a paper found in his study against Nero and Caligula would prove that
he had conspired against Charles II.? What credit, he asked, was due to
such a man as Lord Howard, who had betrayed every one that had anything
to do with him, and had said that he could not get his pardon till the
drudgery of swearing was over? He contended that Howard was his debtor,
that he had a mortgage on his estate, and to get rid of repayment was
now seeking his life. He commented on the oldness of the work in the
manuscript, and asked the Attorney-General how many years the book of
Filmer's, which it replied to, had been written. Jeffreys told him
they had nothing to do with Filmer's book; the question was, would he
acknowledge the authorship of the pamphlet? Sidney replied, "No;" that
it was neither proved to be his, nor contained any treason if it had
been.

[Illustration: TRIAL OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL. (_See p._ 278.)

(_After the Picture by Sir George Hayter._)]

Jeffreys, after a parade of humanity, declaring that the king desired
not to take away any man's life which was not clearly forfeited to
the law, but had rather that many guilty men should escape than one
innocent man suffer, concluded, nevertheless, by telling the jury that
_scribere est agere_--that they had evidence enough before them, and
they, accordingly, brought in a verdict of guilty.

When the prisoner was brought up on the 26th of November to receive
sentence, he pleaded in arrest of judgment that he had had no trial,
that some of his jurors were not freeholders, and that his challenges
had not been complied with; yet he seems to have exercised that right
to a great extent, for the panel contains the names of eighty-nine
persons, of whom fifty-five were challenged, absent, or excused. As
jurymen, however, then were summoned, there might still be much truth
in his plea. He objected, too, that there was a material flaw in the
indictment, the words in the king's title--Defender of the Faith--being
left out. "But," exclaimed Jeffreys, "that you would deprive the king
of his life, that is in very full, I think." But this plea had a
certain effect, and a Mr. Bampfield, a barrister, contended that the
judgment should not be proceeded with whilst there was so material a
defect in the indictment. Sidney also insisted that there was no proof
of the manuscript being his, or of its being treason, and demanded that
the Duke of Monmouth should be summoned, as he could not be earlier
found, and now was at hand. But Jeffreys overruled all his pleadings,
and declared that there was nothing further to do than to pass
sentence. "I must appeal to God and the world that I am not heard,"
said Sidney. "Appeal to whom you will," retorted Jeffreys, brutally,
and with many terms of crimination and abuse, passed on him sentence
of death with all its butcheries. On the 7th of December he was led to
execution.

A very different man at this epoch obtained his pardon, and played
a very different part. The weak, impulsive, ambitious, and yet
vacillating Monmouth was by means of Halifax reconciled to his father.
Halifax, who was known as a minister by the name of the Trimmer, though
he had aided the Tories in gaining the ascendant, no sooner saw the
lengths at which they were driving, than he began to incline to the
other side. His tendency was always to trim the balance. When the Whigs
were in the ascendant he was a decided Tory; he did his best to throw
out the Exclusion Bill, and when it was thrown out he was one of the
first to advocate measures for preventing the mischiefs of a Popish
succession. His genius was not to stimulate some great principle,
and bear it on in triumph, but to keep the prevailing crisis from
running into extravagance. He was, like Danby, an enemy to the French
alliance; he loathed the doctrine of passive obedience; he was opposed
to long absence of Parliaments; he dared to intercede for Russell and
Sidney, when the Tory faction were demanding their blood; he saw the
undue influence that the Duke of York had acquired by the late triumph
over the Whigs, and he began to patronise Monmouth as a counterpoise;
he wrote some letters for Monmouth, professing great penitence, and
Monmouth copied and sent them, and the king at once relented. On the
25th of October Charles received him at the house of Major Long, in the
City; and though he assumed an air of displeasure, and upbraided him
with the heinous nature of his crimes, he added words which showed that
he meant to forgive. On the 4th of November there was another private
interview, and Halifax laboured hard to remove all difficulties. The
king offered him full forgiveness, but on condition that he submitted
himself entirely to his pleasure. On the 24th of November he threw
himself at the feet of the king and the Duke of York, and implored
their forgiveness, promising to be the first man, in case of the king's
death, to draw the sword for the maintenance of the duke's claims.
The duke had been prepared beforehand for this scene, and accorded
apparently his forgiveness. But Monmouth was then weak enough to be
induced to confirm the testimony of Lord Howard against his late
associates, and to reveal the particulars of their negotiations with
Argyll in Scotland. This he did under solemn assurances that all should
remain secret, and nothing should be done which should humiliate him.
Having done this, his outlawry was reversed, a full pardon formally
drawn, and a present of six thousand pounds was made him by the king to
start afresh with.

No sooner, however, was this done than he saw with consternation his
submission and confession published in the _Gazette_. He denied that
he had revealed anything to the king which confirmed the sentences
lately passed on Russell and Sidney. The king was enraged, and insisted
that he should in writing contradict these assertions. He was again
cowardly enough to comply, and immediately being assailed by the
reproaches of his late friends, and especially of Hampden, whose turn
was approaching, and who said that Monmouth had sealed his doom, he
hastened to Charles, and in great excitement and distress demanded back
his letter. Charles assured him that it should never be produced in
any court as evidence against the prisoners, and advised him to take
some time to reflect on the consequences to himself of the withdrawal.
But next morning, the 7th of December, renewing his entreaty for the
letter, it was returned him in exchange for a less decisive statement,
and Charles bade him never come into his presence again. He then
retired to his seat in the country, and once more offered to sign a
paper as strong as the last. Even Charles felt the infamy of this
proceeding, and refused the offer.

But still it was determined to make use of him, and he was subpœnaed
to give evidence on the approaching trial of Hampden. He pleaded
the promise that his confession should not be used against the
prisoners, but he was told that he had cancelled that obligation by
his subsequently withdrawing his letter. Seeing by this that he would
be dragged before a public court to play the disgraceful part of Lord
Howard, he suddenly disappeared from his house in Holborn, and escaped
to Holland, where he was well received by Prince William, who was now
the grand refuge of English and Scottish refugees of all parties and
politics. As Monmouth's escape deprived the court of his evidence, and
only one main witness, Lord Howard, could be obtained, the charge of
high treason was abandoned, and that of a misdemeanour was substituted.
Howard was the chief witness, and Hampden was found guilty and punished
by a fine of forty thousand pounds, and imprisoned till paid, besides
having to find two securities for his good behaviour during life. When
he complained of the severity of the sentence, which was equivalent to
imprisonment during the life of his father, he was reminded that his
crime really amounted to treason, and therefore was very mild.

On the return of the Duke of York to Scotland, the persecutions of the
defeated Covenanters had been renewed there with a fury and diabolical
ferocity which has scarcely a parallel in history. Wives were tortured
for refusing to betray their husbands, children because they would not
discover their parents. People were tortured and then hanged merely
because they would not say that the insurrection there was a rebellion,
or the killing of Archbishop Sharp was a murder. The fortress of the
Bass Rock, Dumbarton Castle, and other strongholds were crammed with
Covenanters and Cameronians. Witnesses, a thing unheard of before,
were now tortured. "This," says Sir John Lauder of Fountainhall,
"was agreeable to the Roman law, but not to ours; it was a barbarous
practice, but yet of late frequently used amongst us." He also informs
us that Generals Dalziel and Drummond had imported thumbscrews from
Russia, where they had seen them used, by which they crushed the thumbs
of prisoners to compel them to confess. All the laws of evidence
were thrown aside, and the accused were condemned on presumptive
evidence. On such testimony the property of numbers was forfeited, and
the notorious Graham of Claverhouse was enriched by the estate of a
suspected Covenanter.

By these torrents of blood, these diabolical engines of iron boots,
thumbscrews, and other tortures; by witnesses forced to implicate their
neighbours, and a herd of vile caitiffs brought forward to swear away
the lives and fortunes of every man who dared to entertain, though he
scarcely ventured to avow, a free opinion; by the Church preaching
passive obedience; by servile, bullying, and brutal judges; Charles had
now completely subdued the spirit of the nation, and had, through the
aid of French money, obtained that absolute power which his father in
vain fought for.

One of the first uses which he made of this beautiful tranquillity was
to destroy the ancient seminaries of freedom--the corporations of the
country. Writs of _quo warranto_ were issued, and the corporations,
like the nation at large, prostrate at the foot of the polluted
throne, were compelled by threats and promises to resign their ancient
privileges. "Neither," says Lingard, "had the boroughs much reason to
complain. By the renewal of their charters they lost no franchise
which it was reasonable they should retain; many acquired rights which
they did not previously possess; but individuals suffered, because the
exercise of authority was restricted to a smaller number of burgesses,
and these, according to custom, were in the first instance named by the
Crown."

[Illustration: THE BASS ROCK.]

There, indeed, lay the gist and mischief of the whole matter. Charles
cared little what other privileges they enjoyed so that he could
deprive them of their most important privilege--their independence,
and make them not only slavish institutions, but instruments for the
general enslavement of the country. "In the course of time," says the
same historian, "several boroughs, by the exercise of those exclusive
privileges, which had been conferred on them by ancient grants from
the Crown, had grown into nests or asylums of public malefactors, and
on that account were presented as nuisances by the grand juries of the
county assizes." This was a good reason why those "several boroughs"
should have been reformed; but none whatever why all boroughs should
be compelled to surrender their independence to a despotic monarch.
The great instrument in this sweeping usurpation was the Lord Chief
Justice Jeffreys, a man admirably calculated for the work by his
power of coaxing, jeering, browbeating, and terrifying the reluctant
corporations. Before he set out on his summer circuit this year,
Charles presented him with a ring from his own finger, as a mark of his
especial esteem, at the same time giving him a very necessary piece of
advice, Chief Justice as he was, to beware of drinking too much, as the
weather would be hot. The ring was called Jeffreys' bloodstone, being
presented to him just after the execution of Sir Thomas Armstrong.

Though blood had ceased to flow, persecution of the Whigs had not
ceased. Sir Samuel Barnardiston, the foreman of the grand jury which
had ignored the Bill against Lord Shaftesbury, was not forgotten. He
was tried for a libel, and fined ten thousand pounds, and ordered
to find security for his good behaviour during life. Williams, the
Speaker of the House of Commons, was prosecuted for merely having
discharged the duties of his office, in signing the votes; Braddon
and Speke were tried and punished severely for slandering the king
and duke by charging them with the murder of Essex. And James now
indulged his spleen against Titus Oates for his proceedings against
the Catholics, and his endeavour to exclude James from the succession.
The pretence seized upon was, that Oates and Dutton Colt had declared
that the Duke of York was a traitor, and that before he should come
to the succession, he should be banished or hanged, the hanging being
the fitter. Jeffreys, who tried them, had a particular pleasure in
sentencing Oates, who, in the days of his popularity, had hit the
rascally lawyer hard. In 1680 Jeffreys had fallen under the censure
of Parliament for interfering in its concerns, and they had not only
brought him to his knees at their bar, but had compelled him to resign
the recordership of London. On the trial of College, the "Protestant
joiner," Oates had appealed to Jeffreys, then Serjeant Jeffreys, to
confirm a part of his evidence. Jeffreys indignantly said he did not
intend becoming evidence for a man like him; whereupon Oates coolly
replied, "I don't desire Sir George Jeffreys to become an evidence
for me; I have had credit in Parliaments, and Sir George had disgrace
in one of them." Jeffreys was stunned by this repartee, and merely
replied, "Your servant, doctor; you are a witty man and a philosopher."
But now the tide had turned; Jeffreys had the witty man at his mercy,
and he fined him and Colt one hundred thousand pounds, or imprisonment
till paid, which meant so long as they lived.

Tardy justice was also done to the Catholic peers who were in the
Tower. Lord Stafford had fallen the victim of Protestant terrors
during the ascendency of the Whigs; Lord Petre died, worn out by his
confinement, but the Lords Powis, Arundel, and Bellasis, after lying in
durance vile for five years, were brought up by writ of Habeas corpus,
and were discharged on each entering into recognisances of ten thousand
pounds for himself, and five thousand pounds each for four sureties, to
appear at the bar of the House if called for. The judges, now that the
Duke of York, the Catholic prince, was in power, could admit that these
victims of a political faction "ought in justice and conscience to have
been admitted to bail long ago." Danby, too, was liberated on the same
terms, though he never could be forgiven by the king or duke for his
patronage of Oates, and his zeal in hunting out the plot.

The influence of James was every day more manifest. Charles restored
James to his former status by placing him at the head of the Admiralty;
and, to avoid subjecting him to the penalties of the Test Act, himself
signed all the papers which required the signature of the Lord High
Admiral. Seeing that this was received with perfect complacency, he
went a step farther, and, in defiance of the Test Act, introduced James
again into the Council. This, indeed, excited some murmurs, even the
Tories being scandalised at his thus coolly setting aside an Act of
Parliament.

No sooner was James reinstated in the Council, than he planned yet more
daring changes. Under the plea which he afterwards carried so far in
his own reign, of relieving the Dissenters, he sought to relieve the
Catholics from their penalties. What his regard was for the Dissenters
has been sufficiently shown by their cruel persecution in England, and
by his own especial oppression of the Covenanters in Scotland.

One morning, however, Jeffreys, who had lately been admitted to the
Council, appeared at the board with an immense bundle of papers and
parchments, and informed the king that they were the rolls of the names
of the recusants that he had collected during his late circuit. He
declared that the gaols were crammed with them, and that their case
deserved the serious attention of the king. Lord Keeper North, who saw
instantly the drift of the motion, and who had a profound jealousy of
Jeffreys, who, he knew, was anxiously looking for the Seals, asked
whether all the names in the list belonged to persons who were in
prison? Jeffreys replied no, for the prisons could not hold all the
persons convicted of recusancy. North then observed, that besides
Catholics there were vast numbers of Nonconformists and other persons
included in those lists, who were professed enemies of the king, and of
Church and State, and that it would be far easier and safer to grant
particular pardons to Catholics, than thus at once to set at liberty
all the elements of commotion in the kingdom. The blow was struck.
Strong as was the Government then, it dared not give a measure of
exemption exclusively to the Catholics. The scheme, it was obviously
seen, was transparent, and there was a significant silence. Neither
Halifax, nor Rochester, nor the more Protestant members having occasion
to open their mouths, the Council passed to other business.

But Halifax saw with alarm the advancing influence of the duke, and
trembled for his own hold of office, for the duke, he knew, hated
him mortally. He, therefore, as a certain resource against this
advancing power, advised Charles to call a Parliament, but that Charles
had resolved never to do. He still received a considerable sum from
Louis, though not so large in amount nor so regularly paid as when his
services were more needful; and to decrease his expenditure, he had,
during the last year, sent a squadron under Lord Dartmouth to destroy
the fortification of Tangier, which he had received as part of the
dowry of the queen. Had that Settlement been well managed, it would
have given England great advantages in the Mediterranean; but nothing
of that kind was well managed by this unpatriotic king. To spare the
expenditure necessary for its maintenance, he thus destroyed the
defences, and left the place to the Moors, to the great indignation of
Portugal, which thought rightly that, if he did not value it, he might
have restored it.

Defeated in that quarter, Halifax next endeavoured to stop the
advancement of Lord Rochester. This was Lawrence Hyde, the second son
of the late Lord Chancellor Clarendon, and the especial favourite of
the duke. He had (in 1682) not only been created Earl of Rochester,
but made First Commissioner of the Treasury. Halifax beheld in his
rise an ominous competitor, especially as the duke was the mainspring
of his prosperity. He therefore accused Rochester of negligence or
embezzlement in his office, and succeeded in removing him (1684) from
the Treasury board to the Presidency of the Council. This Halifax
called kicking a man upstairs. Nor did Rochester's promotion end here.
He was soon after appointed to the government of Ireland, the old and
veteran colleague of Rochester's father, and the staunch champion of
Charles in the days of his adversity, being removed to make way for
him. The great object, however, was not simply Rochester's promotion,
but the organisation of a powerful Catholic army in Ireland, for which
it was deemed Ormond was not active enough, this army having reference
to James's views on England, which afterwards proved his ruin.

By this appointment Rochester was removed from immediate rivalry with
Halifax; but sufficient elements of danger still surrounded that
minister. Halifax and his colleagues had succeeded in strengthening
the Protestant succession by the marriage of the second daughter of
the duke, Anne, to a Protestant prince; but even in this event the
influence of Louis had been active. Through the medium of Sunderland,
who continued in office, and maintained a close intimacy with the
French mistress, the Duchess of Portsmouth, Louis took care that,
though the nation would not tolerate any but a Protestant prince for
Anne's husband, it should be one of no great importance. George, Prince
of Hanover, afterwards George I., had been selected, and made a visit
to London, but returned without the princess. The fortune, it had been
suggested, was not enough for the penurious German; his father recalled
him to marry the Princess of Zell, a circumstance which Anne never
forgot or forgave. In the midst of the agitation of the Rye House Plot,
and but two days before the execution of Lord William Russell, another
wooer appeared in George, brother of the King of Denmark. This young
man also had the approbation of Louis, and the match took place a week
after his arrival.

Still Halifax felt a growing insecurity in the royal favour. The
whole influence of the Duke of York was exerted to ruin him, and he
therefore determined once more to attempt to re-establish Monmouth in
the king's favour. This popular but weak young man was living in great
honour at the Court of the Prince of Orange. Many remonstrances had
been made by the Duke of York to his daughter and son-in-law, against
their encouragement of a son who had taken so determined a part both
against his own father, the king, and himself, their father. But the
prince and princess were well aware of Charles's affection for his
undutiful son, and therefore did not fear seriously offending him.
Under the management of Halifax, Van Citters, the Dutch ambassador in
London, went over to the Hague on pretence of negotiating some measure
of importance between the two countries. The Prince of Orange affected
to comply with the wishes of Charles for the removal of Monmouth. But
this nobleman, instead of taking up his residence at Brussels, as was
given out, suddenly returned to London privately, had an interview with
his father, and as suddenly returned to the Hague, saying that in three
months he should be publicly admitted at Court, and the Duke of York
be banished afresh. Charles, meantime, had proposed to James to go and
hold a Parliament in Scotland, as if conferring a mark of particular
honour and confidence on him. But the private visit of Monmouth had not
escaped James, nor the correspondence of Halifax with him, and this
caused a fresh energy of opposition to that minister to be infused
into the duke's creatures at Court. Halifax had recommended a most
enlightened measure to the king as regarded the American colonies,
which, had it been adopted, might have prevented their loss at a later
period. He represented that the grant of local legislatures to them
would be the best means of developing their resources, and governing
them in peace; but on this admirable suggestion the duke's partisans
seized as something especially anti-monarchical and injurious to the
power of the king. The duke, the Duchess of Portsmouth, and the Earl of
Sunderland re-echoed these opinions, and drew from Charles a promise
that unless Halifax retired of himself, he should be dismissed on the
first plausible occasion. The influence of the French king was also at
work to effect the overthrow of Halifax. It was in vain that Louis had
endeavoured to buy him as he had done the king, the duke, and the other
ministers; and as he could not be bought, the only alternative was
to drive him from office. He was feebly supported by the Lord Keeper
North; he was actively and zealously undermined by his colleagues,
Sunderland and Godolphin; but still Charles hesitated. He enjoyed the
wit and brilliant conversation of Halifax; he knew well his ability,
and, still more, he was in a most indolent and undecided frame of
mind. Macaulay has well described him at this moment:--"The event
depended wholly on the will of Charles, and Charles could not come to
a decision. In his perplexity he promised everything to everybody.
He would stand by France, he would break with France; he would never
meet another Parliament; he would order writs for a Parliament without
delay. He assured the Duke of York that Halifax should be dismissed
from office, and Halifax that the duke should be sent to Scotland.
In public he affected implacable resentment against Monmouth, and in
private conveyed to Monmouth assurances of unalterable affection. How
long, if the king's life had been protracted, his hesitation would have
lasted, and what would have been his resolve, can only be conjectured."

But his time was come. It was not likely that a man who had led the
dissipated life that Charles had, would live to a very old age. He
was now in his fifty-fifth year, and the twenty-fifth of his reign,
that is, reckoning from the Restoration, and not from the death of
his father, as the Royalists, who would never admit that a king could
be unkinged, did. His health, or, more visibly, his spirits, had
lately much failed--no doubt the consequence of that giving way of
his debilitated system, which was soon to carry him off. His gaiety
had quite forsaken him; he was gloomy, depressed, finding no pleasure
in anything, and only at any degree of ease in sauntering away his
time amongst his women. It was thought that his conscience began to
trouble him for the profligacy of his life, and the blood that had been
shed under his rule; but Charles was not a man much troubled with a
conscience; he was sinking without being aware of it, and the heaviness
of death was lying on him. On Monday, the 2nd of February, 1685, he
rose at an early hour from a restless couch. Dr. King, a surgeon and
chemist, who had been employed by him in experiments, perceived that he
walked heavily, and with an unsteady gait. His face was ghastly, his
head drooping, and his hand retained on his stomach. When spoken to he
returned no answer, or a very incoherent one. King hastened out, and
informed the Earl of Peterborough that the king was in a strange state,
and did not speak one word of sense. They returned instantly to the
king's apartment, and had scarcely entered it when he fell on the floor
in an apoplectic fit. As no time was to be lost, Dr. King, on his own
responsibility, bled him. The blood flowed freely, and he recovered his
consciousness. When the physicians arrived they perfectly approved of
what Dr. King had done, and applied strong stimulants to various parts
of his body. The Council ordered one thousand pounds to be paid to Dr.
King for his prompt services, but the fee was never paid.

As soon as the king rallied a little, he asked for the queen, who
hastened to his bedside, and waited on him with the most zealous
affection, till the sight of his sufferings threw her into fits, and
the physicians ordered her to her own apartment. Towards evening
Charles had a relapse, but the next morning he rallied again, and was
so much better, that the physicians issued a bulletin, expressing hope
of his recovery; but the next day he changed again for the worse,
and on the fourth evening it was clear that his end was at hand. The
announcement of his dangerous condition spread consternation through
the City; the momentary news of his improvement was received with
unequivocal joy, the ringing of bells, and making of bonfires. When
the contrary intelligence of his imminent danger was made known,
crowds rushed to the churches to pray for his recovery; and it is said
the service was interrupted by the sobs and tears of the people. In
the royal chapel prayers every two hours were continued during his
remaining moments.

James was never a moment from the dying king's bedside. He was
afterwards accused of having poisoned him--a suspicion for which there
does not appear the slightest foundation; but, apart from natural
brotherly regard, James was on the watch to guard the chances of his
succession. Every precaution was taken to secure the tranquillity of
the City, and to insure an uninterrupted proclamation of his accession.
In the room, too, were as constantly a great number of noblemen and
bishops. There were the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of
London, Durham, and Ely, and Bath and Wells, besides twenty-five lords
and privy councillors. A bishop, with some of the nobles, took turns to
watch each night.

Early on the Thursday morning, Ken, of Bath and Wells, ventured to warn
the king of his danger, and Charles receiving the solemn intelligence
with an air of resignation, he proceeded to read the Office for the
Visitation of the Sick. He asked Charles if he repented of his sins,
and on replying that he did, Ken gave him absolution according to the
prescribed form of the Church of England, and then inquired whether
he should administer the Sacrament. To this there was no answer. Ken,
supposing that the king did not clearly comprehend the question,
repeated it more distinctly. Charles replied there was yet plenty of
time. The bread and wine, however, were brought, and placed on a table
near him; but though the question was again repeatedly asked by the
bishop, Charles only replied, "he would think of it."

The mystery was, however, solved by the French mistress, who, drawing
Barillon, the French ambassador into her boudoir, said, "Monsieur
l'Ambassadeur, I am going to tell you the greatest secret in the world,
and my head would be in danger if it were known here. The king, in the
bottom of his heart, is a Catholic, and nobody tells him the state he
is in, or speaks to him of God. I can no longer with propriety enter
into his chamber, where the queen is almost constantly with him; the
Duke of York thinks about his own affairs, and has no time to take the
care that he ought of the king's conscience. Go and tell him that I
have conjured you to warn him to do what he can to save the soul of the
king, his brother. He is master in the royal chamber, and can make any
one withdraw from it as he lists. Lose no time, for if you delay ever
so little, it may be too late."

When Barillon whispered this to James, he started as from a lethargy,
and said, "You are right, there is no time to lose. I will rather
hazard all than not do my duty." A priest was found in Huddleston, who
had been with the king in the battle of Worcester, and accompanied him
in his flight. He had become a Benedictine monk, and had been appointed
one of the chaplains of the queen.

The duke, stooping to the king's ear, had inquired in a whisper whether
he should bring him a Catholic priest, and Charles instantly replied,
"For God's sake, do!" The duke then requested, in the king's name, all
the company to retire into an adjoining room, except the Earl of Bath,
Lord of the Bedchamber, and Lord Feversham, Captain of the Guard, and
as soon as this was done, Huddleston, disguised in a wig and gown, was
introduced by the backstairs by Chiffinch, who for so many years had
been employed to introduce very different persons. Barillon says that
Huddleston was no great doctor, which is probably true enough, having
originally been a soldier, but he managed to administer the Sacrament
to the king, and also the extreme unction. Charles declared he pardoned
all his enemies, and prayed to be pardoned by God, and forgiven by all
whom he had injured.

This ceremony lasted three-quarters of an hour, and the excluded
attendants passed the time in much wonder and significant guesses. They
looked at one another in amazement, but spoke only with their eyes,
or in whispers. The Lords Bath and Feversham being both Protestants,
however, seemed to disarm the fears of the bishops. But when Huddleston
withdrew, the news was speedily spread. That night he was in much
pain; the queen sent to excuse her absence, and to beg that he would
pardon any offence that she might at any time have given him. "Alas!
poor woman!" he replied, "she beg my pardon! I beg hers with all my
heart; take back to her that answer." He then sent for his illegitimate
sons, except Monmouth, whom he never mentioned, and recommended them
to James, and, taking each by the hand, gave them his blessing. The
bishops, affected by this edifying sight, threw themselves on their
knees, and begged he would bless them too; whereupon he was raised up
and blessed them all. Having blessed the bishops, he next blessed the
ladies of his harem, and particularly recommended to his successor
the care of the Duchess of Portsmouth, who had been pretty active for
his exclusion, and also the Duchess of Cleveland, hoping, moreover,
that "poor Nelly"--Nell Gwynne--would not be left to starve. Three
hours afterwards this strange monarch breathed his last on the 6th of
February, 1685.

[Illustration: _By permission of the Corporation of Liverpool._

THE ANTE-CHAMBER OF WHITEHALL DURING THE LAST MOMENTS OF CHARLES II.,
1685.

FROM THE PICTURE BY E. M. WARD, R.A., IN THE WALKER ART GALLERY,
LIVERPOOL.]

[Illustration: GREAT SEAL OF JAMES II.]

CHAPTER X.

REIGN OF JAMES II.

James's Speech to the Council--Rochester supersedes Halifax--Other
Changes in the Ministry--James Collects the Customs without
Parliament--French Pension continued--Scottish Parliament--Oates
and Dangerfield--Meeting of Parliament--It grants Revenue for
Life--Monmouth and Argyll--Argyll's Expedition--His Capture and
Execution--Monmouth's Expedition--He enters Taunton--Failure of
his Hopes--Battle of Sedgemoor--Execution of Monmouth--Cruelties
of Kirke and Jeffreys--The Bloody Assize--The Case of Lady Alice
Lisle--Decline of James's Power--He Breaks the Test Act--Revocation
of the Edict of Nantes--Prorogation of Parliament--Acquittal
of Delamere--Alienation of the Church--Parties at Court--The
Dispensing Power Asserted--Livings granted to Catholics--Court of
High Commission Revived--Army on Hounslow Heath--Trial of "Julian"
Johnson--James's Lawlessness in Scotland and Ireland--Declaration
of Indulgence--The Party of the Prince of Orange and the Princess
Mary--Expulsion of the Fellows of Magdalen College--New Declaration
of Indulgence--Protest of the Seven Bishops--Birth of the Prince of
Wales--Trial and Acquittal of the Bishops--Invitation to William
of Orange--Folly of James--William's Preparations--Blindness of
James and Treachery of his Ministers--William's Declaration--James
convinced, makes Concessions--William lands at Torbay--His Advance
to Exeter--Churchill's Treason--Flight of the Princess Anne and her
Husband--James sends Commissioners to Treat with William--Flight
of James--Riots in London--Return of James--His Final Flight to
France--The Convention--The Succession Question--Declaration of
Rights--William and Mary joint Sovereigns.

To the reign of merry cruelty now succeeded the reign of gloomy,
ascetic, undisguised ferocity. Charles could laugh and sport with his
ladies, whilst his subjects were imprisoned and tortured. James, who
never laughed, pursued his cruel bent with a settled butcher-like mood,
and would have extirpated nations, were it in his power, to restore
Catholicism, and establish the political absolutism adored by the
Stuarts. Yet he began the reign of the Inquisition with the hypocrisy
of the Jesuit. When the breath had left the body of Charles, James
retired for a quarter of an hour to his chamber, and then met the
Privy Council with a speech which promised everything that he was most
resolved not to perform. He began by eulogising the deceased "as a good
and gracious king." If he really thought his late merry, debauched,
and despotic brother good and gracious, it was an evil omen for the
nation, whose ruler had such conceptions of what was good and gracious.
He then added, "I have been reported to be a man fond of arbitrary
power; but that is not the only falsehood which has been reported of
me; and I shall make it my endeavour to preserve this Government,
both in Church and State, as it is by law now established. I know the
principles of the Church of England are favourable to monarchy, and the
members of it have shown themselves good and loyal subjects; therefore
I shall take care to defend and support it. I know, too, that the laws
of England are sufficient to make the king as great a monarch as I can
wish; and as I shall never depart from the just rights and prerogatives
of the Crown, so I shall never invade any man's property. I have often
before ventured my life in defence of this nation, and shall go as far
as any man in preserving it in all its just rights and liberties."

The first thing which scandalised the people was the miserable economy
of the late king's funeral. It was said to be scarcely befitting a
private gentleman, and the Scottish Covenanters asserted that the dead
tyrant had been treated, as the Scriptures declared tyrants should be,
to the "burial of an ass." The first thing which James set about was
the rearrangement of the Cabinet. There was but one man in the Cabinet
of the late king who had his entire confidence--this was Rochester,
the second son of the late Lord Clarendon. To him he gave the office
of Lord High Treasurer, thus constituting him Prime Minister; to
Godolphin, who had held this office, he gave that of Chamberlain to the
Queen. Halifax was deprived of the Privy Seal, and was made President
of the Council, a post both less lucrative and less influential, a
circumstance which highly delighted Rochester, who now saw the wit who
said he had been kicked upstairs, served in precisely the same way.
Sunderland, the late Secretary of State, was suffered to retain his
office. He had intrigued and acted against James; both he and Godolphin
had supported the Exclusion Bill, but Sunderland now with his usual
supple artifice, represented that he could have no hope of the king's
favour but from the merit of his future services; and as he possessed
some dangerous secrets, he was permitted to keep his place. He did
not, however, content himself with this, but cherished the ambition
of superseding Rochester as Lord Treasurer, and therefore represented
himself to the Catholics as their staunch friend, whilst they knew that
Rochester was the champion of the Church of England. For the present,
nevertheless, from having been at high feud with both Rochester and
Clarendon, he cultivated a strong friendship with them to make his
position firm with the king. Halifax had opposed the Exclusion Bill,
but he had become too well known as a decided enemy of Popery and of
the French ascendency. James, therefore, tolerated him for the present,
and whilst he assured him that all the past was forgotten, except the
service he had rendered by his opposition to the Exclusion Bill, he
told Barillon, the French ambassador, that he knew him too well to
trust him, and only gave him the post of President of the Council to
show how little influence he had.

The Great Seal was retained also by Lord Guildford, who, though
he was by no means a friend of liberty, was too much a stickler
for the law to be a useful tool of arbitrary power. James secretly
hated him, and determined to associate a more unscrupulous man with
him in the functions of his office. This was his most obedient and
most unflinching creature, the Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys, of whose
unexampled villainies we shall soon hear too much. Guildford was by the
overbearing Jeffreys at once thrust back into the mere routine of a
judge in equity, and all his State functions and patronage were usurped
by this daring man. At the Council board Jeffreys treated him with the
most marked contempt, and even insult, and poor Guildford soon saw
all influence and profit of the Chancellorship, as well as the Chief
Justiceship, in the hands of Jeffreys, and himself reduced to a cipher.

But the most ungenerous proceeding was that of depriving the old and
faithful Lord Ormond of the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland. Ormond had not
only stood firmly by Charles I., but had suffered unrepiningly the evil
fortunes of Charles II. He had shared his exile, and had done all in
his power for his restoration. He had opposed all the endeavours by the
Popish Plot and the Exclusion Bill to get rid of James, and was highly
respected in his office in Ireland. He had lately lost his eldest
son, Lord Ossory, and, though aged, was still vigorous and zealous in
discharge of his duties. But he had the unpardonable faults of being
a firm Protestant and as firm an advocate for the constitutional
restrictions of the Crown. James recalled him from his Lord-Lieutenancy
on the plea that he was wanted at Court in his other office of Lord
Steward of the Household. But the ancient chief felt the ungrateful
act, and, at a farewell dinner at Dublin to the officers of the
garrison, in toasting the health of the king, he filled a cup of wine
to the brim, and, holding it aloft without spilling a drop, declared
that whatever the courtiers might say, neither hand, heart, nor reason
yet failed him--that he knew no approach of dotage.

Having made these changes in the ministry, James lost no time in
letting his subjects see that he meant to enjoy his religion without
the restraints to which he had been accustomed. He had been used to
attend Mass with the queen in her oratory, with the doors carefully
closed; but the second Sunday after his accession he ordered the chapel
doors to be thrown wide open, and went thither in procession. The Duke
of Somerset, who bore the sword of State, stopped at the threshold.
James bade him advance, saying, "Your father would have gone farther."
But Somerset replied, "Your Majesty's father would not have gone so
far." At the moment of the elevation of the Host, the courtiers were
thrown into a strange agitation. The Catholics fell on their knees,
and the Protestants hurried away. On Easter Sunday Mass was attended
with still greater ceremony. Somerset stopped at the door, according to
custom, but the Dukes of Norfolk, Northumberland, Grafton, Richmond,
and many other noblemen, accompanied the king as far as the gallery.
Godolphin and Sunderland also complied, but Rochester absolutely
refused to attend. Not satisfied with proclaiming his Catholicism,
James produced two papers, which he said he had found in the strong
box of the late king, wherein Charles was made to avow his persuasion
that there could be no true Church but the Roman, and that all who
dissented from that Church, whether communities or individuals, became
heretic. James declared the arguments to be perfectly unanswerable,
and challenged Sancroft, Archbishop of Canterbury, to attempt it. This
was not very consistent with his speech as regarded the Church of
England, and his next step was as great a violation of his assurance
that he would not invade any man's property. Funds for carrying on the
Government were necessary, and James declared that as the customs and
part of the excise had only been granted to Charles for his life, they
had now lapsed, and that it would produce great inconvenience to wait
for the meeting of Parliament for their re-enactment. Nothing prevented
him from calling Parliament at once, but James undoubtedly had a fancy
for trying his father's favourite measure of levying taxes without
Parliament. It was contended that as no law for customs or excise now
existed, all goods newly imported would come in duty free, and ruin the
merchants who had to sell goods which had paid the duty. North, Lord
Guildford, recommended that the duties should be levied as usual, but
the proceeds kept in the Exchequer till Parliament met and authorised
their appropriation; but Jeffreys was a councillor much more after the
king's heart. He recommended that an edict should at once be issued,
ordering the duties to be paid as usual to his Majesty, and this advice
was carried, every one being afraid of being declared disloyal, or a
trimmer, who voted against it. The proclamation was issued, but, to
render it more palatable, it announced that a Parliament would be very
soon called, and as many addresses as possible from public bodies,
sanctioning the measure, were procured. The barristers and students of
the Middle Temple, in their address, thanked the king for preserving
the customs, and both they and the two universities expressed the most
boundless obedience to the king's sovereign and unlimited power. But
the public at large looked on with silent foreboding. "The compliments
of these bodies," says Dalrymple, "only served to remind the nation
that the laws had been broken."

Before venturing to assemble Parliament James endeavoured to render
Louis of France acquiescent in this step. He knew from the history
of the late reign how averse Louis was from English Parliaments,
which were hostile to his designs against the Continental nations.
He therefore had a private interview with Barillon, in which he
apologised most humbly for the necessity of calling a Parliament. He
begged him to assure his master of his grateful attachment, and that
he was determined to do nothing without his consent. If the Parliament
attempted to meddle in any foreign affairs, he would send them about
their business. Again he begged him to explain this, and that he
desired to consult his brother of France in everything, but then he
must have money by some means. This hint of money was followed up
the next day by Rochester, and Barillon hastened to convey the royal
wishes. But Louis had lost no time in applying the effectual remedy
for a Parliament, the moment the assembling of one became menaced.
He sent over five hundred thousand crowns, which Barillon carried in
triumph to Whitehall, and James wept tears of joy and gratitude over
the accursed bribe. But he and his ministers soon hinted that the
money, though most acceptable, would not render him independent of
Parliament, and Barillon pressed his sovereign to send more with an
urgency which rather offended Louis, and rendered it possible that
the ambassador had a pretty good commission out of what he obtained.
James sent over to Versailles Captain Churchill, already become Lord
Churchill, and in time to become known to us and all the world as
the Duke of Marlborough. He was to express James's gratitude and his
assurances of keeping in view the interests of France, and so well
did the proceedings of Churchill in Paris and of Barillon in England,
prosper, that successive remittances, amounting to two millions of
livres, were sent over. But of this, except four hundred and seventy
thousand livres, the arrears of the late king's pension, and about
thirty thousand pounds for the corruption of the House of Commons,
Louis strictly forbade Barillon paying over more at present to James
without his orders. In fact, he was no more assured of the good faith
of James than he had been of that of Charles; and he had ample reason
for his distrust, for at the very same time James was negotiating a
fresh treaty with his son-in-law, the Prince of Orange.

It is impossible to comprehend the full turpitude of this conduct of
James without keeping steadily in view the aims of both James and
Louis. James's, like that of all the Stuarts, was simply to destroy
the British constitution and reign absolutely. To do this the money
of France was needed to render them independent of Parliaments, and a
prospect of French troops should the English at length rebel against
these attempts at their enslavement. The object of Louis was to keep
England from affording any aid to any power on the Continent, whilst he
was endeavouring to overrun it with his armies.

On the day of the coronation in England (April 23rd), St. George's
Day, the Parliament in Scotland met. James called on the Scots to set
a good example to the approaching Parliament of England in a liberal
provision for the Crown; and the Scottish Estates, as if complimented
by this appeal, not only responded to it by annexing the excise to
the Crown for ever, and offering him besides two hundred and sixty
thousand pounds a year for his own life, but declared their abhorrence
of "all principles derogatory to the king's sacred, supreme, sovereign,
and absolute power and authority." They did more, they passed an Act
making it death for any one to preach in a conventicle, whether under
a roof or in the open air. In England the elections were going on most
favourably, and therefore James seized on the opportunity, whilst all
appeared smiling and secure, to indulge his appetite for a little
vengeance.

On the 7th of May, Titus Oates, the enemy of James and of Popery, the
arch-instrument of the Whig agitators, was brought up to the bar of the
King's Bench, before the terrible Jeffreys. When he was now brought
up, the Court was crowded with people, a large proportion of them
being Catholics, glad to see the punishment of their ruthless enemy.
But if they expected to see him depressed or humbled, they were much
disappointed. He came up bold and impudent as ever. Jeffreys flung his
fiercest Billingsgate at him, but Oates returned him word for word
unabashed. On his last trial he had sworn he had attended a council of
Jesuits on the 24th of April, 1671, in London, but it was now proved
beyond doubt that on that very day Oates was at St. Omer. He had sworn
also to being present at the commission of treasonable acts by Ireland,
the Jesuit, in London, on the 8th and 12th of August, and on the 2nd of
September of the same year. It was now also clearly proved that Ireland
left London that year on the 2nd of August, and did not return till the
14th of September. Oates was convicted of perjury on both indictments,
and was sentenced to pay a thousand marks on each indictment; to be
stripped of his clerical habit; to be pilloried in Palace Yard, and led
round Westminster Hall, with an inscription over his head describing
his crime. He was again to be pilloried in front of the Royal Exchange,
and after that to be whipped from Aldgate to Newgate, and after two
days' interval whipped again from Newgate to Tyburn. If he survived
this, which was not expected, he was to be confined for life, but five
times every year he was to stand again in the pillory.

If the crimes of this wretch were monstrous, his punishment was
equally so. He had the assurance on his trial to call many persons
of distinction, including members of Parliament, to give evidence
in his favour, but he was answered only by bitter reproaches, for
having led them into the spilling of much innocent blood. The lash was
applied the first day so unmercifully, that though he endured it for
some time, it compelled him to utter the most horrible yells. Several
times he fainted, but the flagellations never stopped, and when the
flogging ceased, it was doubted whether he was alive. The most earnest
entreaties were made to the king and queen to have the second flogging
omitted, but they were both inexorable. Yet the guilty wretch survived
through all, though he was said to have received seventeen hundred
stripes the second day on his already lacerated body. So long as James
reigned, he was subjected to the pillory five times a year, but he
lived to be pardoned at the Revolution, and receive a pension of five
pounds a week in lieu of that granted him by Charles II. He died in
1705.

Dangerfield, who had not only succeeded in destroying so many innocent
victims, but had displayed villainy and ingratitude of the blackest
dye, was also convicted, and sentenced to pay five hundred pounds, and
to be pilloried twice and whipped twice over the same ground as Oates.
He was extremely insolent on his trial, but on hearing his sentence he
was struck with horror, flew into the wildest exclamations, declared
himself a dead man, and chose a text for his funeral sermon. Singularly
enough, his end was really at hand. On returning from his whipping
a gentleman named Robert Francis, of Gray's Inn, stepped up to the
coach and asked him how his back was. Dangerfield replied by a curse,
and Francis thrusting at him with his cane, wounded him in the eye;
the wound was declared to occasion his death, though the unmerciful
flogging was probably the real cause, and Francis was tried for the
murder, and hanged.

[Illustration: JAMES II.]

The meeting of Parliament on the 19th of May drew the public attention
from these barbarities. Every means had been exerted to influence the
elections. In the counties the reaction of Toryism, and the effects
of the Rye House Plot in defeating and intimidating the Whigs, gave
the Court every advantage. In the corporations the deprivation of
their ancient charters made them the slaves of Government. But even
with these advantages James was not satisfied. Wherever there appeared
likely to be any independent spirit shown, agents were sent down to
overawe the people, and to force a choice of the Government candidate.
On the 22nd of May James went to the House of Lords in great state
to open Parliament. He took his seat on the throne with the crown on
his head, and his queen, and Anne, his daughter, Princess of Denmark,
standing on the right hand of the throne. The Spanish and other
Catholic ambassadors were present, and heard the Pope, the Mass, the
worship of the Virgin Mary, and the saints all renounced, as the Lords
took their oaths. James then produced a written speech and read it. He
repeated in it what he had before declared to the Council, that he
would maintain the Constitution and the Church as by law established,
and added that, "Having given this assurance concerning their religion
and property, they might rely on his word." Although it had been the
custom to listen to the royal speech in respectful silence, at this
declaration the members of both Houses broke into loud acclamations. He
then informed them that he expected a revenue for life, such as they
had voted his late brother. Again the expression of accord was loud and
satisfactory, but what followed was not so palatable. "The inclination
men have for frequent Parliaments, some may think, would be the best
secured by feeding me from time to time by such proportions as they
shall think convenient, and this argument, it being the first time I
speak to you from the throne, I will answer once for all, that this
would be a very improper method to take with _me;_ and that the best
way to engage me to meet you often is always to use me well. I expect,
therefore, that you will comply with me in what I have desired, and
that you will do it speedily." This agreeable assurance he followed up
by announcing a rebellion to have broken out in Scotland under Argyll
and other refugees from Holland.

When the Commons returned to their own House, Lord Preston entered
into a high eulogium of the king, telling the House that his name
spread terror over all Europe, and that the reputation of England
was already beginning to rise under his rule; they had only to have
full confidence in him as a prince who had never broken his word, and
thus enable him to assert the dignity of England. The House went into
a Committee of Supply, and voted his Majesty the same revenue that
Charles had enjoyed, namely, one million two hundred thousand pounds
a year for life. But when several petitions against some of the late
elections were presented, a serious opposition asserted itself in a
most unexpected quarter. This was from Sir Edward Seymour, of Berry
Pomeroy Castle, the member for Exeter. Seymour was both a Tory and a
High Churchman, proud of his descent from the Lord Protector Seymour,
and who had great influence in the western counties. He was a man of
indifferent moral character, but able and accomplished, and a forcible
debater. He was now irritated by the Government proceedings in the
elections which had interfered with his interests, and made a fierce
attack on the Government pressure on the electors; denounced the
removal of the charters and the conduct of the returning officers;
declared that there was a design to repeal the Test and Habeas Corpus
Acts, and moved that no one whose right to sit was disputed should vote
till that right had been ascertained by a searching inquiry. There was
no seconder to the motion, and it fell to the ground; for the whole
House, including the Whigs, sat, as it were, thunderstruck. But the
effect was deep and lasting, and in time did not fail of its end.

For the present, however, things went smoothly enough. The king
informed the House--through Sir Dudley North, the brother of the Lord
Keeper Guildford, and the person who had been elected Sheriff of
London by the influence of Charles for his ready and ingenious modes
of serving the royal will--that his late brother had left considerable
debts, and that the naval and ordnance stores were getting low. The
House promptly agreed to lay on new taxes and North induced them to tax
sugar and tobacco, so that the king now had a revenue of one million
nine hundred thousand pounds from England, besides his pension from
France, and was strong in revenue.

The Lords were employed in doing an act of justice in calling before
them Lord Danby, and rescinding the impeachment still hanging over
his head, and also summoning to their bar Lords Powis, Arundel, and
Bellasis, the victims of the Popish plot, and fully discharging them
as well as the Earl of Tyrone. They also introduced a Bill reversing
the attainder of Lord Stafford, who had been executed for treason and
concern in the Popish plot, now admitting that he had been unjustly
sacrificed through the perjury of Oates. The Commons were proceeding
to the third reading of this Bill, when the rebellion of Monmouth
was announced, and the question remained unsettled till the trial of
Warren Hastings more than a century afterwards, when men of all parties
declared that Oates's Popish plot was a fiction, and the attainder of
Stafford was then formally reversed.

The political refugees who had fled to Holland and sought protection
from Prince William were numerous, and some of them of considerable
distinction. Monmouth and the Earl of Argyll were severally looked
up to as the heads of the English and Scottish exiles. The furious
persecution against the Covenanters in Scotland and the Whigs in
England had not only swelled these bands of refugees, but rendered
them at once ardent for revenge and restoration. Amongst them Ford;
Lord Grey of Wark; Ferguson, who had been conspicuous among the Whig
plotters; Wildman and Danvers, of the same party; Ayloffe and Wade,
Whig lawyers and plotters; Goodenough, formerly Sheriff of London, who
gave evidence against the Papists; Rumbold, the Rye House maltster,
and others, were incessantly endeavouring to excite Monmouth to avail
himself of his popularity, and the hatred of Popery which existed, to
rebel against his uncle and strike for the crown. Monmouth, however,
for some time betrayed no desire for so hazardous an undertaking.
On the death of Charles he had returned from the Hague, to avoid
giving cause of jealousy to James, and led the life of an English
gentleman at Brussels. William of Orange strongly advised him to take
a command in the war of Austria against the Turks, where he might
win honour and a rank worthy of his birth; but Monmouth would not
listen to it. He had left his wife, the great heiress of Buccleuch,
to whom he had been married almost as a boy from royal policy, and
had attached himself to Lady Henrietta Wentworth, Baroness Wentworth
of Nettlestede. The attachment, though illicit, appeared to be mutual
and ardent. Monmouth confessed that Lady Henrietta, who was beautiful,
amiable, and accomplished, had weaned him from a vicious life, and had
their connection been lawful, nothing could have been more fortunate
for Monmouth. In her society he seemed to have grown indifferent to
ambition and the life of courts. But he was beset by both Grey and
Ferguson, and, unfortunately for him, they won over Lady Wentworth to
their views. She encouraged Monmouth, and offered him her income and
her jewels to furnish him with immediate funds. With such an advocate,
Grey and Ferguson at length succeeded. Grey was a man of blemished
character. He had run off with his wife's sister, a daughter of the
Earl of Berkeley, and was a poor and desperate adventurer, notoriously
cowardly on the field of battle. Ferguson was a fiery demagogue and
zealot of insurrection. He had been a preacher and schoolmaster amongst
the Dissenters, then a clergyman of the Church, and finally had become
a most untiring intriguer, and was deep in the Rye House Plot. Under
all this fire of rebellion, however, there was more than a suspected
foul smoke of espionage. He was shrewdly believed, though not by his
dupes, to be in the pay of Government, and employed to betray its
enemies to ruin.

Monmouth having consented to take the lead in an invasion, though with
much reluctance and many misgivings, a communication was opened with
Argyll and the Scottish malcontents. We have seen that Argyll, after
his father had been inveigled from his mountains and beheaded, had
himself nearly suffered the same fate from James when in Scotland.
He had been imprisoned and condemned to death on the most arbitrary
grounds, and had only managed to escape in disguise. He had purchased
an estate at Leeuwarden, in Friesland, where the great Mac Cailean
More, as he was called by the Highlanders, lived in much seclusion.
He was now drawn from it once more to revisit his native country at
the head of an invading force. But the views of the refugees were so
different, and their means so small, that it was some time before
they could agree upon a common plan of action. It was at length
arranged that a descent should be made simultaneously on Scotland and
England--the Scottish expedition headed by Argyll, that on England by
Monmouth. But to maintain a correspondence and a sort of unison, two
Englishmen, Ayloffe and Rumbold the maltster, were to accompany the
Scots, and two Scotsmen, Fletcher of Saltoun and Ferguson, the English
force. Monmouth was sworn not to claim any rank or reward on the
success of the enterprise, except such as should be awarded him by a
free Parliament; and Argyll was compelled, although he had the nominal
command of the army, to submit to hold it only as one of a committee of
twelve, of whom Sir Patrick Hume of Polwarth was to be president.

In fact, Argyll at the outset displayed a fatal want of knowledge
of human nature or firmness of resolution, in consenting to accept
a command on so impossible a basis. To expect success as a military
leader when hampered with the conflicting opinions of a dozen men of
ultra views in religion and politics, and of domineering wills, was the
height of folly. Hume, who took the lead in the committee, was a man of
enormous conceit, a great talker, and a very dilatory actor. Next to
him was Sir John Cochrane, the second son of Lord Dundonald, who was
almost equally self-willed and jealous of the power of Argyll. With
their Republican notions, they endeavoured to impose such restrictions
on the power of the earl as were certain to insure the ruin of the
attempt, in which everything must depend on the independent action of a
single mind.

We have already noticed the character of Ferguson, one of the twain
selected to accompany Monmouth. Fletcher of Saltoun, the other, was
a far different man--a man of high talent, fine taste, and finished
education. At the head of a popular senate he would have shone as an
orator and statesman; but he had those qualities of lofty pride and
headstrong will which made him by no means a desirable officer in
an army of adventurers, although his military skill was undoubted.
What was worse, from the very first he foreboded no good result from
the expedition, and accompanied it only because he would not seem to
desert his more sanguine countrymen. When Wildman and Danvers sent from
London flaming accounts of the ripeness of England for revolt, and
said that just two hundred years before the Earl of Richmond landed in
England with a mere handful of men, and wrested the Crown from Richard,
Fletcher coolly replied that there was all the difference between the
fifteenth century and the seventeenth.

These men, Wildman and Danvers, represented the country as so prepared
to receive Monmouth, that he had only to show his standard for whole
counties to flock to it. They promised also six thousand pounds in
aid of the preparations. But the fact was that little or no money
came, and James and his ministers were duly informed of the measures
of the insurgents, and were at once using every means with the Dutch
Government to prevent the sailing of the armaments, and taking steps
for the defence of the Scottish and English coasts. We may first
follow the fortunes of Argyll and his associates, who sailed first.
He put out from the coast of Holland on the 2nd of May, and after a
prosperous voyage, sighted Kirkwall, in Orkney, on the 6th. There he
very unwisely anchored, and suffered two followers to go on shore to
collect intelligence. The object of his armament then became known, and
was sure to reach the English Government in a little time. The Bishop
of Orkney boldly ordered the two insurgents to be secured, and refused
to give them up. After three days lost in endeavouring to obtain their
release, they seized some gentlemen living on the coast, and offered
them in exchange. The bishop paid no regard to their proposal or their
menaces, and they were compelled to pursue their voyage.

The consequence of this ill-advised measure was that news of the
armament was sent to Edinburgh with all speed, and whilst the invading
force was beating round the northern capes and headlands, active
preparations were made for defence. The whole of the militia, amounting
to twenty thousand men, were called out; a third of these, accompanied
by three thousand regulars, were marched into the western counties.
At Dunstaffnage, Argyll sent his son Charles ashore to summon the
Campbells to arms, but he returned with the report that many of the
chiefs had fled or were in prison, and the rest afraid to move. At
Campbelltown, in Kintyre, Argyll published a proclamation, setting
forth that he came to suppress Popery, prelacy, and Erastianism, and
to take the crown from James, whom he accused of persecution of the
Covenanters, and the poisoning of his brother. He sent across the hills
the fiery cross to summon all true men to his standard, and appointed
Tarbert as the place of rendezvous. About eighteen hundred men mustered
at the call, but any advantage to be derived from this handful of men
was far more than counterbalanced by the pertinacious interference of
Cochrane and Hume. They insisted on arranging everything, even the
appointment of the officers over Argyll's own clan. They insisted also
that the attack should be directed against the Lowlands, though Argyll
wisely saw that they had no chance whatever in the open country with
their present force. He contended that having first cleared the Western
Highlands of the national soldiery, they should soon have five or six
thousand Highlanders at their command, and might then descend on the
Lowlands with effect. Rumbold advocated this prudential course, but all
reasoning was lost on Hume and Cochrane, who insolently accused Argyll
of wanting only to secure his own territories, and sailed away with
part of the troops to the Lowlands. They found the coast, however, well
guarded by the English ships, and escaped up the Clyde to Greenock.
There they again quarrelled between themselves, and finding the people
not at all disposed to join them, they returned to Argyll. But they
had learned no wisdom: the earl again proposed to endeavour to secure
Inverary--they as firmly opposed it. They, therefore, fixed on the
castle of Ealan Ghierig as their present headquarters, landed their
arms and stores, and made an officer named Elphinstone commander of
the fort. Argyll and Rumbold now drove back the troops of Athol, and
prepared to march on Inverary; but from this they were diverted by a
call from Hume and Cochrane at the ships, who were about to be attacked
by the English fleet. Argyll hastened to them, and proposed to give
fight to the English, but was again prevented by these infatuated men.
The earl, therefore, in utter despair, passed into Dumbartonshire,
and was the very next day followed by the news of the capture of all
his ships, and the flight of Elphinstone from Ealan Ghierig, without
striking a blow. As a last desperate attempt, Argyll proposed to
make a rush on Glasgow and secure a strong footing there; but the
very men who had so strongly urged the attempt on the Lowlands now
deserted him in numbers, and on the march nothing but disasters from
the insubordination of the little army ensued. They were attacked on
all sides by the militia, and when the earl and Ayloffe advised a bold
attack on the enemy, Hume and his partisans protested against it. The
end of all was that, becoming involved amongst morasses, the army was
seized with panic, and rapidly melted away. The wrong-headed Hume
escaped, and reached the Continent; Cochrane was taken, and soon after
Rumbold, Major Fullerton, and Argyll himself were seized.

[Illustration: THE LAST SLEEP OF ARGYLL. (_See p._ 297.)

(_From the Fresco by E. M. Ward, R.A., in the House of Commons._)]

The conduct of Argyll after his capture was distinguished by a calm
dignity which showed how superior he was to the factious, pugnacious
men who had baffled all his plans. With his arms pinioned behind him,
he was led bareheaded through the streets of Edinburgh, from Holyrood
to the castle. The Royalists thus revelled in revenging on the son the
act of his father thirty-five years before, when he caused Montrose to
be conducted over the very same ground. The headsman marched before him
with his axe, and on reaching his cell in the castle Argyll was put
into irons, and informed that his execution would quickly follow. This
was the 20th of June; his execution did not take place till the 30th.
During the ten days the orders of James were that he should be tried
all ways to compel him to confess the full particulars of the invasion,
its originators, supporters, and participators. It was understood that
James meant that his favourite application of the boots and thumbscrews
should be used, but this was not attempted. Argyll was menaced, but
his firm refusal to reveal anything that would incriminate others,
convinced his enemies that it was useless, and could only cover them
with odium. The last day of his life he lay down to rest, ere the hour
of his execution should arrive. During his sleep, a renegade Privy
Councillor insisted on entering his cell. The door was gently opened,
and there lay the great Argyll in heavy chains and sleeping the happy
sleep of infancy. The beholder turned and fled, sick at heart. His
former sentence of death was deemed sufficient to supersede any fresh
trial, and being brought out to the scaffold, and saying that he died
in peace with all men, one of the Episcopalian clergymen stepped to
the edge of the scaffold and exclaimed to the people, "My lord dies a
Protestant." "Yes," said the earl, also going forward, "a Protestant,
and cordial hater of Popery, prelacy, and all superstition." His head
was fixed on the top of the Tolbooth, where that of Montrose had
formerly stood.

On the 30th of May, nearly a month after the sailing of Argyll,
Monmouth left the Texel. His squadron consisted of a frigate of
thirty-two guns, called the _Helderenbergh_, and three small tenders,
a fourth tender having been refused by the Dutch. He was attended
by about eighty officers, and a hundred and fifty men of different
degrees, fugitives from England and Scotland. With such a force he
proposed to conquer the crown of England! All the fine promises of
money by Wildman and Danvers had ended in smoke, and he had only been
able, chiefly through the revenues of Lady Henrietta Wentworth, to
supply himself with arms and stores for a small body of cavalry and
infantry. The voyage was long and tedious, the weather was stormy,
and the Channel abounded with the royal cruisers. On the morning of
the 11th of June his little fleet appeared off the port of Lyme, in
Dorsetshire.

Monmouth was extremely popular with the people, and on discovering
that it was their favourite hero come to put down the Popish tyrant,
he was received with loud acclamations. "Monmouth and the Protestant
religion!" was the cry. There was a rush to enlist beneath his banners,
and within four-and-twenty hours he was at the head of fifteen hundred
men. Dare, one of the adventurers, had been put ashore as they came
along the coast to ride across the country and rouse the people of
Taunton, and he now came in at the head of about forty horsemen,
with the news that the people of Somersetshire were in favour of his
cause. But with this arrival came the tidings that the Dorsetshire
and Somersetshire folk were mustering at Bridport to attack them, and
Monmouth ordered Lord Grey, who was the commander of the cavalry,
to march there at once, and disperse them before they had collected
in strength. But here an incident occurred which showed the unruly
materials that he had to work with. Dare had mounted himself on a fine
horse in his expedition to Taunton, and Fletcher of Saltoun, who was
second in command of the cavalry under Grey, without asking leave
of Dare, as superior officer, and being himself badly mounted, took
possession of his horse. Dare refused to let him have it, they came to
high words, Dare shook his whip at Fletcher, and the proud Scot drew
his pistol and shot Dare dead on the spot. This summary proceeding,
which might have passed in the ruder country of Scotland, created a
violent outburst amongst the soldiers of Monmouth. They demanded of
the duke instant execution of the murderer, and it was only by getting
on board the _Helderenbergh_ that Fletcher escaped with his life. He
returned to Holland, and thus was lost to the expedition almost its
only man of any talent and experience.

The next morning Grey, accompanied by Wade, led forth his untrained
cavalry to attack the militia at Bridport. There was a smart brush
with the militia, in which Monmouth's raw soldiers fought bravely, and
would have driven the enemy from the place, but Grey, who was an arrant
coward in the field, turned his horse and fled, never drawing bit till
he reached Lyme. The men were indignant, and Monmouth was confounded
with this conduct of his chief officer; but nevertheless he had not
moral firmness to put some more trusty officer in his place. Four
days after his landing, the 15th of June, Monmouth marched forward to
Axminster, where he encountered Christopher Monk, Duke of Albemarle,
the son of the first General Monk, at the head of four thousand men
of the trained bands. Though daunted at first, Monmouth accepted the
situation, and disposed his men admirably for a fight. He drew up
the main body in battle array on advantageous ground, sent out his
skirmishers to the front, and, as a last precaution, lined the hedges
of a narrow lane, through which Albemarle must pass to come at him,
with musketeers. Monk, however, was too cautious to risk a pitched
battle on these terms--the more especially as his own forces were
untrustworthy. There appeared so much enthusiasm for Monmouth amongst
his troops that, fearing their desertion, he drew back. The result
was that the whole body was speedily thrown into disorder, that panic
seized them, and that they fled pell-mell towards Exeter, flinging away
their arms and uniforms to expedite their escape. Monmouth, however,
probably not aware of the extent of the rout, steadily pursued his
march to Chard, and thence to Taunton, where he arrived on the 18th
of June, just a week after his landing, and was received by the whole
place with the warmest demonstrations of joy.

All this seemed auspicious and encouraging, but it did not satisfy
Monmouth. He knew that, without the adhesion of the army and the
leading gentry, he should never make his way to the crown. Their
adhesion had been promised him, but where were they? Not a regiment had
given a sign of being ready to join him. Lords Macclesfield, Brandon,
Delamere, and other Whig noblemen--who, he had been assured, would
instantly fly to his standard--lay all still. Trenchard of Taunton, who
had promised to join him, unlike his townsmen, fled at his approach,
and made his way into Holland, to the Prince of Orange. Wildman, who
had promised such wonders of county support and of money, did not
appear. On the contrary, the nobility and gentry from all parts of the
country, with the clergy, were pouring in addresses of attachment and
support to James. Parliament, both Lords and Commons, displayed the
same spirit.

The common people might believe that the son of Lucy Walters was
legitimate, but the educated classes knew better, and that Monmouth
could never be king. Parliament, therefore, at once voted James four
hundred thousand pounds for present necessities, and laid new taxes
for five years on foreign silks, linen, and spirits. They ordered
Monmouth's declaration to be burnt by the hangman, and rapidly passed
against him a Bill of Attainder, setting a reward of five thousand
pounds on his head. They were ready to go farther, and the Commons
actually passed a Bill for the preservation of the king's person and
government, making it high treason to say that Monmouth was legitimate,
or to make any motion in Parliament to alter the succession. But James,
knowing the uselessness of any such Act, adjourned Parliament without
waiting for the Act passing the Lords, and dismissed the nobles and
gentry to defend his interests in their different localities. He took
care, however, to revive the censorship of the press, which had expired
in 1679.

When Monmouth, with consternation, noted these adverse circumstances,
Ferguson was ready with a reason. It was that Monmouth had committed
a capital error in not taking the title of king. The style and title
of king, he asserted, carried a wonderful weight with the English.
But of this right he had deprived himself by abjuring this title and
leaving it entirely to James. The majority would fight for the man
who was in possession of the royal name, but for whom were they to
fight who fought for Monmouth? Nobody could tell, and the result must
be discouragement. Grey seconded Ferguson: Wade and the Republicans
opposed the scheme. But probably Monmouth was only too willing to be
persuaded, and, accordingly, on the 20th of June, he was proclaimed in
the market-place of Taunton. As the names of both rivals were James,
and James II. would continue to mean James who now had that title,
Monmouth was styled King Monmouth. Immediately on taking this step,
Monmouth issued four proclamations. Following the example of James,
he set a price on the head of James, late Duke of York; declared the
Parliament sitting at Westminster an unlawful assembly, and ordered
it to disperse; forbade the people to pay taxes to the usurper; and
proclaimed Albemarle a traitor, unless he forthwith repaired to the
standard of King Monmouth, where he would be cordially received.

Almost every part of this proceeding was a gross political blunder.
By assuming the royal title he lost nearly everything, and gained
nothing. He offended the Republican party, and divided the allegiance
of his little army, some of the most energetic of whose officers, as
Wade and others, were of that political faith. He offended that great
Protestant party which was looking forward to the Protestant succession
of William of Orange and the Princess Mary, and in case of their want
of issue to the Princess Anne. He cut off all retreat to Holland in
case of failure, and all hope of mercy from James if he fell into his
hands. By pledging himself on landing not to aspire to the crown, and
thus immediately breaking his pledge, he inspired the thinking portion
of the people with deep distrust, as inducing the same disregard of
his word as had been so long conspicuous in the Stuarts. With all the
influential Protestants who might have joined him, so soon as events
gave hope of success, considering him the champion of a Protestant
succession, he had placed himself in a hopeless position, because that
succession could only come through a legitimate issue. By denouncing
the Parliament that body became his mortal foes. The only party from
which he could now expect any support was the people, and without
means, without leaders, without military training, the result could
only be failure, utter and fearful.

And despite the persuasions of Ferguson, the melancholy truth seemed
already to stare the unhappy Monmouth in the face. He received a secret
answer from Albemarle, addressed to James Scott, late Duke of Monmouth,
telling him that he knew who was his lawful king, and that he had
better have let rebellion alone. As he rode out of Taunton on the 22nd
of June towards Bridgewater, it was remarked that he looked gloomy and
dejected; the very people who crowded in the road to greet him with
huzzas, could not help remarking how different was the expression of
his countenance to what it had been in his gay procession there five
years before. The only man who seemed elated with anticipation of
triumph was Ferguson, and if, as is suspected to have been the case, he
were playing the traitor to the unfortunate Monmouth, he might now well
grow confident of his diabolical success.

[Illustration: THE CROSS, BRIDGEWATER, WHERE MONMOUTH WAS PROCLAIMED
KING.]

On reaching Bridgewater, where there existed a strong Whig body,
Monmouth was again well received. The mayor and aldermen in their robes
welcomed him, and preceded him in procession to the Cross, where they
proclaimed him king. He took up his abode in the castle, encamped his
army on the castle field, and crowds rushed to enlist in his service.
His army already amounted to six thousand men, and might soon have
been doubled or trebled; but his scanty supply of arms and equipments
was already exhausted. He had no money, and men without weapons were
useless. Numbers of them endeavoured to arm themselves, mob-fashion,
with scythes, pitchforks, and other implements of husbandry and of
mining.

Meanwhile, troops were drawing from all quarters, and preparing to
overwhelm the invaders. Lord Feversham and Churchill, afterwards
Marlborough, were ordered to march with strong bodies of troops to the
West. Churchill was already arrived, and Feversham rapidly approaching.
The militias of Sussex and Oxfordshire were drawing that way, followed
by bodies of volunteer gownsmen from Oxford. To prevent any of the Whig
party from affording Monmouth aid, they and the Nonconformists were
closely watched, and many seized and imprisoned.

From Bridgewater Monmouth advanced to Glastonbury, and thence to Wells
and Shepton Mallet. He appeared to have no precise object, but to seek
reinforcements; from Shepton Mallet he directed his march on Bristol,
which was only defended by the Duke of Beaufort and the muster of his
tenantry. Bristol, once gained, would give them a strong position,
and afford large supplies of money, stores, and arms. But Churchill
harassed his rear on the march, and to reach the Gloucestershire
side of the town, which was easiest of assault it was necessary to
march round by Keynsham Bridge, which was partly destroyed. Men were
despatched to repair it, and Monmouth following, on the 24th of June
was at Ponsford, within five miles of the city. On reaching Keynsham
Bridge, it was found to be repaired, but they were there encountered
by a body of Life Guards under Colonel Oglethorpe, and Bristol having
received reinforcements, the attack on it was abandoned. It was
then proposed to get across the Severn and march for Shropshire and
Cheshire, where he had been enthusiastically received in his progress;
but the plan was not deemed practicable, and he advanced to Bath, which
was too strongly garrisoned to make any impression upon. On the 26th
they halted at Philip's Norton.

Feversham was now at their heels, and attacked them, the charge being
led by the Duke of Grafton--the son of Charles and the Duchess of
Cleveland--who fought bravely, but was repulsed. Monmouth, however,
took advantage of the night to steal away to Frome, which was well
affected to his cause, but had been just visited and disarmed by the
Earl of Pembroke with the Wiltshire militia. The night march thither
had been through torrents of rain and muddy roads; Frome could afford
neither assistance nor protection; and, to add to his disappointment,
here news reached him of the total failure of Argyll's expedition into
Scotland, and that Feversham was now joined by his artillery and was in
pursuit of him. Under these disastrous circumstances, and not a man of
note, not a regiment of regulars or militia (as had been so liberally
promised him by Wildman and Danvers) having come over to him, Monmouth
bitterly cursed his folly in having listened to them, and resolved
to ride off with his chief adherents, and get back to the Continent
and his beloved Lady Wentworth. But from this ignominious idea he was
dissuaded by Lord Grey, and they retreated again towards Bridgewater,
where a report represented fresh assembling of armed peasantry. They
reached that town on the 2nd of July, and, whilst throwing up trenches
for defence, on the 5th Feversham arrived with about five thousand
men, and pitched his tents on Sedgemoor, about three miles from the
town. Feversham himself, with the cavalry at Weston Zoyland, and the
Earl of Pembroke with the Wiltshire militia, about fifteen hundred in
number, camped at the village of Middlezoy. Monmouth and his officers
ascended the tower of the church and beheld the disposition of the
enemy. Sedgemoor had formerly been a vast marsh, where Alfred, in his
time, had sought a retreat from the triumphant Danes, and it was now
intersected by several deep ditches, as most fen lands are, behind
which the royal army lay. Near Chedzoy were some regiments of infantry
which Monmouth had formerly commanded at Bothwell Bridge.

It was reported that the soldiers were left, by the reckless
incapacity of the general, to drink cider and preserve little watch;
and Monmouth, who saw that they lay in a very unconnected condition,
conceived that by a skilful night attack he could easily surprise
them. The gormandising incapacity of Louis Duras, now Lord Feversham,
a foreigner who had been advanced by Charles II., was notorious, and
the transcendent military talents of Churchill, who was in subordinate
command, were yet little known. Preparations were therefore instantly
made for the surprise. Scouts were sent out to reconnoitre the ground,
who reported that two deep ditches full of mud and water lay between
them and the hostile camp, which would have to be passed. At eleven
o'clock at night the troops, with "Soho" for their watchword, marched
out of Bridgewater in profound silence, taking a circuitous route,
which would make the march about six miles. It was a moonlight night,
but the moor lay enveloped in a thick fog, and about one in the
morning the troops of Monmouth approached the royal camp. Their guides
conducted the soldiers by a causeway over each of the two ditches, and
Monmouth drew up his men for the attack, but by accident a pistol went
off; the sentinels of the division of the army--the Foot Guards--which
lay in front of them, were alarmed, and, listening, became aware of the
trampling of the rebels as they were forming in rank. They fired their
carbines and flew to rouse the camp. There was an instant galloping
and running in all directions. Feversham and the chief officers were
aroused, and drums beat to arms, and the men ran to get into rank. No
time was to be lost, and Monmouth ordered Grey to dash forward with
the cavalry, but he was suddenly brought to a halt by a third dyke, of
which they had no information. The Foot Guards on the other side of the
dyke demanded who was there, and on the cry of "King Monmouth!" they
discharged a volley of musketry with such effect, that the untrained
horses of Grey's cavalry became at once unmanageable; the men, thrown
into confusion, were seized with panic and fled wherever they could
find a way or their horses chose to carry them. Grey, as usual, was
in the van of the fugitives. But, on the other hand, Monmouth came now
rushing forward with his infantry, and, in his turn, finding himself
stopped by the muddy dyke, he fired across it at the enemy, and a
fierce fight took place, which was maintained for three-quarters of an
hour. Nothing could be more brave and determined than Monmouth and his
peasant soldiers. But day was now breaking, the cavalry of Feversham,
and the infantry of Churchill, were bearing down on their flanks from
different quarters, and Monmouth, then seeing that his defeat was
inevitable, forgot the hero and rode off to save his life, leaving
his brave, misguided followers to their fate. If anything could have
added to the base ignominy of Monmouth's desertion of his adherents,
it was the undaunted courage which they showed even when abandoned.
They stood boldly to their charge; they cut down the horsemen with
their scythes, or knocked them from their saddles with the butt end
of their guns; they repulsed the vigorous attack of Oglethorpe, and
left Sarsfield for dead on the field. But, unfortunately, their powder
failed, and they cried out for fresh supplies in vain. The men with
the ammunition waggons had followed the flight of the cavalry, and
driven far away from the field. Still the brave peasantry and soldiers
fought desperately with their scythes and gunstocks, till the cannon
was brought to bear on them, and mowed them down in heaps. As they
began to give way the royal cavalry charged upon them from the flank,
the infantry poured across the ditch, the stout men, worthy of a better
fate and leader, were overwhelmed and broke, but not before a thousand
of them lay dead on the moor, or before they had killed or wounded more
than three hundred of the king's troops.

The unfortunate rebels were pursued with fury, and hunted through
the day out of the neighbouring villages, whither they had flown for
concealment. The road towards Bridgewater was crowded with flying
men and infuriated troopers following and cutting them down. Many of
those who rushed frantically into the streets of Bridgewater fell and
died there of their wounds, for the soldiers, who were treated by the
farmers to hogsheads of cider, were drunk with drinking, with blood
and fury. A vast number of prisoners were secured, for they were a
profitable article of merchandise in the Plantations; five hundred
were crowded into the single church of Weston Zoyland, and the battle
and pursuit being over, the conqueror commenced that exhibition of
vengeance which was always so dear to James. Gibbets were erected by
the wayside, leading from the battle-field to Bridgewater, and no less
than twenty of the prisoners were hanging on them. The peasantry were
compelled to bury the slain, and those most suspected of favouring the
rebels were set to quarter the victims who were to be suspended in
chains. Meanwhile Monmouth, Grey, and Buyse, the Brandenburger, were
flying for their lives. They took the north road, hoping to escape
into Wales. At Chedzoy Monmouth drew up a moment to hide his George
and procure a fresh horse. From the summit of a hill they turned and
saw the final defeat and slaughter of their deluded followers. They
pushed forward for the Mendip Hills, and then directed their course
towards the New Forest, hoping to obtain some vessel on that coast to
convey them to the Continent. On Cranborne Chase their horses were
completely exhausted; they therefore turned them loose, hid their
saddles and bridles, and proceeded on foot. But the news of the defeat
of the rebels had travelled as fast as they, and in the neighbourhood
of Ringwood and Poole parties of cavalry were out scouring the country,
in hopes of the reward of five thousand pounds for Monmouth. Lord
Lumley and Sir William Portman, the commanders, agreed to divide the
sum among their parties if successful, and early on the morning of the
7th, Grey and the guide were taken at the junction of the two cross
roads. This gave proof that the more important prize was not far off.
The officers enclosed a wide circle of land, within which they imagined
Monmouth and Buyse must yet be concealed; and at five the next morning
the Brandenburger was discovered. He confessed that he had parted
from Monmouth only four hours before, and the search was renewed with
redoubled eagerness. The place was a network of small enclosures,
partly cultivated and covered with growing crops of pease, beans, and
corn, partly overrun with fern and brambles. The crops and thickets
were trodden and beaten down systematically in the search, and at seven
o'clock Monmouth himself was discovered in a ditch covered with fern.

[Illustration: "AFTER SEDGEMOOR."

FROM THE PAINTING BY W. RAINEY, R.I.]

Monmouth, though mild and agreeable in his manners, had never displayed
any high moral qualities. Indeed, if we bear in mind the frivolous and
debauched character of the Court in which he had grown up, whether it
were the Court of the exile or of the restored king, it would have
been wonderful if he had. He was handsome, gay, good-natured, but
dissolute and unprincipled. He was ready to conspire against his
father or his uncle, to profess the utmost contrition when defeated,
and to forget it as soon as forgiven. He has been properly described
as the Absalom of modern times. If he merely deserted his miserable
followers on the battle-field, he now more meanly deserted his own
dignity. He continued, from the moment of his capture to that when he
ascended the scaffold, prostrating himself in the dust of abasement,
and begging for his life in the most unmanly terms. He wrote to James
instantly from Ringwood, so that his humble and agonised entreaties
for forgiveness would arrive with the news of his arrest. James
admitted the crawling supplicant to the desired interview, but it was
in the hope of the promised word of wondrous revelation, not with any
intention of pardoning him. He got him to sign a declaration that
his father had assured him that he was never married to his mother,
and then coolly told him that his crime was of too grave a dye to be
forgiven. The queen, who was the only person present besides James
and the two Secretaries of State, Sunderland and Middleton, is said
to have insulted him in a most merciless and unwomanly manner. When,
therefore, Monmouth saw that nothing but his death would satisfy the
king and queen, he appeared to resume his courage and fortitude, and
rising with an air of dignity, he was taken away. But his apparent
firmness lasted only till he was out of their presence. On his way to
the Tower he entreated Lord Dartmouth to intercede for him--"I know,
my lord," he said, "that you loved my father; for his sake, for God's
sake, endeavour to obtain mercy for me." But Dartmouth replied that
there could be no pardon for one who had assumed the royal title.
Grey displayed a much more manly behaviour. In the presence of the
king he admitted his guilt, but did not even ask forgiveness. As
Monmouth was under attainder, no trial was deemed necessary, and it
was determined that he should be executed on Wednesday morning, the
next day but one. On the fatal morning of the 15th he was visited by
Dr. Tenison, afterwards archbishop, who discoursed with him, but not
very profitably, on the errors of his ways. Before setting out for
the scaffold, his wife and children came to take leave of him. Lady
Monmouth was deeply moved; Monmouth himself spoke kindly to her, but
was cold and passionless. When the hour arrived, he went to execution
with the same courage that he had always gone into battle. He was no
more the cringing, weeping supplicant, but a man who had made up his
mind to die. A disgusting scene of butchery followed, owing to the
nervousness of the executioner. The populace were so enraged at the
man's clumsiness, that they would have torn him to pieces if they could
have got at him. Many rushed forward to dip their handkerchiefs in
Monmouth's blood, and the barbarous circumstances of his execution and
the unfeeling persecution of the prelates, did not a little to restore
his fame as a martyr to liberty and Protestantism.

Whilst these things were going on in London, the unfortunate people
in the West were suffering a dreadful penalty for their adherence to
Monmouth. Feversham was called to town, and covered with honours and
rewards, though it was notorious that he had done nothing towards
the victory. Buckingham even declared that he had won the battle of
Sedgemoor in bed. In his place was left one of the most ferocious and
unprincipled monsters that ever disgraced the name of soldier. This was
Colonel Kirke, who had been governor of Tangier until it was abandoned,
and now practised the cruelties that he had learned in his unrestrained
command there. In that Settlement, left to do his licentious will on
those in his power, he acquired a name for arbitrary, oppressive, and
dissolute conduct, which in ordinary times would have insured his
death. He now commanded the demoralised soldiers that he had brought
back with him, and who, whilst they were capable of every atrocity,
were called "Kirke's lambs," because, as a Christian regiment sent
against the heathen, they bore on their banner the desecrated sign of
the Lamb. His debauched myrmidons were let loose on the inhabitants
of Somersetshire, and such as they could not extort money from, they
accused on the evidence of the most abandoned miscreants, and hanged
and quartered, boiling the quarters in pitch, to make them longer
endure the weather on their gibbets. The most horrible traditions
still remain of Kirke and his lambs. He and his officers are said to
have caused the unhappy wretches brought in, who were not able to
pay a heavy ransom, to be hanged on the sign-post of the inn where
they messed, and to have caused the drums to beat as they were in the
agonies of death, saying they would give them music to their dancing.
To prolong their sufferings, Kirke would occasionally have them cut
down alive, and then hung up again; and such numbers were quartered,
that the miserable peasants compelled to do that revolting work, were
said to stand ankle deep in blood. All this was duly reported to the
king in London, who directed Lord Sunderland to assure Kirke that
"he was very well satisfied with his proceedings." It was asserted in
London that in the single week following the battle, Kirke butchered a
hundred of his victims, besides pocketing large sums for the ransom of
others, yet he declared that he had not gone to the lengths to which
he was ordered. On the 10th of August he was sent for to Court, to
state personally the condition of the West, James being apprehensive
that he had let the rich delinquents escape for money, and the system
of butchery was left to Colonel Trelawny, who continued it without
intermission, soldiers pillaging the wretched inhabitants, or dragging
them away to execution under the forms of martial law. But a still
more sweeping and systematic slaughter was speedily initiated under a
different class of exterminators--butchers in ermine.

[Illustration: MONMOUTH'S INTERVIEW WITH THE KING. (_See p._ 303.)]

Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys, the most diabolical judge that ever sat on
the bench--now rendered furious by nightly debauch and daily commission
of cruelties; in his revels hugging in mawkish and disgusting fondness
his brutal companions; in his discharge of his judicial duties passing
the most barbarous sentences in the most blackguard and vituperative
language; in whose blazing eye, distorted visage, and bellowing voice
raged the unmitigated fiend,--was sent forth by his delighted master
to consummate his vengeance on the unhappy people whom the soldiers
had left alive and cooped up in prison. He was already created Baron
of Wem, dubbed by the people Earl of Flint, and, the Lord Keeper just
now dying, he was promised the Great Seal if he shed blood enough to
satisfy his ruthless king. Four other judges were associated with him,
rather for form than for anything else, for Jeffreys was the hardened,
daring, and unscrupulous instrument on whom James confidently relied.

Jeffreys' Bloody Assize, as it was then and always has been termed,
both from its wholesale slaughter and from the troops which accompanied
him throughout the circuit--a name constantly used by the unfeeling
king himself--was opened at Winchester on the 27th of August, and
commenced with a case of hitherto unexampled ruthlessness. Mrs. Alice
Lisle--or, as she was generally called, Lady Alice, her husband,
one of the judges of Charles I., having been created a lord by
Cromwell--was now an infirm and aged woman, deaf and lethargic. Her
husband had been murdered, as we have related, by the Royalists, as
he was entering the church at Lausanne. Lady Alice was known far and
wide for her benevolence. Though her husband was on the other side, she
had always shown active kindness to the followers of the king during
the Civil War, and on this account, after her husband's death, his
estate had been granted to her. During the rebellion of Monmouth her
son had served in the king's army against the invader; yet this poor
old lady was now accused of having given a night's shelter to Hicks,
a Nonconformist minister, and Nelthorpe, a lawyer, outlawed for his
concern in the Rye House Plot. They were fugitives from Sedgemoor,
and the law of treason was that he who harbours a traitor is liable
to death, the punishment of a traitor. Mrs. Lisle had no counsel, and
pleaded that though she knew that Hicks was a Presbyterian minister,
she did not know that he and Nelthorpe were concerned in the rebellion,
and there was no direct proof of the fact.

Jeffreys terrified the witnesses, and then came the turn of the jury.
They retired to consult, but not coming to a speedy conclusion, for
they were afraid of the judge, and yet loth to condemn the prisoner,
Jeffreys sent them word that if they did not agree he would lock them
up all night. They then came into court and expressed their doubts of
Mrs. Lisle knowing that Hicks had been with Monmouth. Jeffreys told
them that their doubt was altogether groundless, and sent them back
to agree. Again they returned, unable to get rid of their doubt. Then
Jeffreys thundered against them in his fiercest style, and declared
that were he on the jury, he would have found her guilty had she been
his own mother. At length the jury gave way and brought in a verdict
of guilty. The next morning Jeffreys pronounced sentence upon her amid
a storm of vituperation against the Presbyterians, to whom he supposed
Mrs. Lisle belonged. He ordered her, according to the rigour of the old
law of treason, to be burned alive that very afternoon.

This monstrous sentence thoroughly roused the inhabitants of the
place; and the clergy of the cathedral, the staunchest supporters of
the king's beloved arbitrary power, remonstrated with Jeffreys in such
a manner, that he consented to a respite of five days, in order that
application might be made to the king. The clergy sent a deputation to
James, earnestly interceding for the life of the aged woman, on the
ground of her generous conduct on all occasions to the king's friends.
Ladies of high rank, amongst them the Ladies St. John and Abergavenny,
pleaded tenderly for her life. Feversham, moved by a bribe of a
thousand pounds, joined in the entreaty, but nothing could move that
obdurate heart, and all the favour that James would grant her was that
she should be beheaded instead of burnt. Her execution, accordingly,
took place at Winchester on the 2nd of September, and James II. won
the unenviable notoriety of being the only tyrant in England, however
implacable, who had ever dyed his hands in woman's blood for the
merciful deed of attempting to save the lives of the unfortunate. What
made this case worse was, that neither Hicks nor Nelthorpe had yet been
tried, so that the trial of Mrs. Lisle was altogether illegal, and the
forcing of the jury completed one of the most diabolical instances of
judicial murder on record.

From Winchester Jeffreys proceeded to Dorchester. He came surrounded
by still more troops, and, in fact, rather like a general to take
bloody vengeance, than as a judge to make a just example of the guilty,
mingled with mercy, on account of the ignorance of the offenders. The
ferocious tyrant was rendered more ferocious, from his temper being
exasperated by the agonies of the stone which his drunken habits had
inflicted on him. He had the court hung with scarlet, as if to announce
his sanguinary determination. When the clergyman who preached before
him recommended mercy in his sermon, he was seen to make a horrible
grimace, expressive of his savage disdain of such a sentiment. It was
whilst preparing to judge the three hundred prisoners collected there,
that he received the news of his elevation to the woolsack. He had
received orders from James to make effectual work with the rebels, and
he now adopted a mode of despatching the unhappy wretches in wholesale
style. As it would be a very tedious work to try all that number one by
one, he devised a more expeditious plan. He sent two officers to them
into the prison, offering them mercy or certain death. All who chose
to make confession of their guilt should be treated with clemency,
all who refused should be led to immediate execution. His clemency
amounted to a respite of a day or two--he hanged them all the same.
Writing to Sunderland, Jeffreys said on the 16th of September:--"This
day I began with the rebels, and have despatched ninety-eight." Of the
three hundred, two hundred and ninety-two received sentence of death.
Eighty only were hanged, the rest were, for the most part, sent to the
Plantations as slaves.

From Dorchester he went to Exeter, where two hundred and forty-three
prisoners awaited their doom. He proceeded in the same way, and
condemned the whole body in a batch, and as they saved him much
trouble, he did not hang so many of them. Taunton, the capital of
Somersetshire, the county where the rebellion was the strongest,
presented him with no fewer than a thousand prisoners. Here he
perfectly revelled in his bloody task. The work seemed to have the
effect of brandy or champagne upon him. He grew every day more
exuberant and riotous. He was in such a state of excitement from
morning to night, that many thought him drunk the whole time. He
laughed like a maniac, bellowed, scolded, cut his filthy jokes on
the astounded prisoners, and was more like an exulting demon than a
man. There were two hundred and thirty-three prisoners hanged, drawn,
and quartered in a few days. The whole number hanged in this bloody
campaign has been variously stated at from three to seven hundred.
Probably the medium is the most correct. But so many were hung in
chains, or their jointed quarters and limbs displayed on the highways,
village greens, and in the market-places, that the whole country
was infected with the intolerable stench. Some of their heads were
nailed on the porches of parish churches; the whole district was a
perfect Golgotha. It was in vain that the most distinguished people
endeavoured to check the infuriated judge's rage; he only turned his
evil diatribes on them, and gave them what he called "a lick with the
rough side of his tongue." Because Lord Stowell, a Royalist, complained
of the remorseless butchery of the poor people of his neighbourhood, he
gibbeted a corpse at his park gate.

The fate of the transported prisoners was worse than death itself. They
were eight hundred and forty in number, and were granted as favours
to the courtiers. Jeffreys estimated that they were, on an average,
worth from ten pounds to fifteen pounds apiece to the grantee. They
were not to be shipped to New England or New Jersey, because the
Puritan inhabitants might have a sympathy with them on account of their
religion, and mitigate the hardship of their lot. They were to go to
the West Indies, where they were to be slaves, and not acquire their
freedom for ten years. They were transported in small vessels with all
the horrors of the slave trade. They were crowded so that they had not
room for lying down all at once; were never allowed to go on deck;
and in darkness, starvation, and pestiferous stench, they died daily
in such quantities that the loss of one-fifth of them was calculated
on. The rest reached the Plantations, ghastly, emaciated, and all but
lifeless. Even the innocent school girls, many under ten years of age,
at Taunton, who had gone in procession to present a banner to Monmouth,
at the command of their mistress, were not excused. The queen, who had
never preferred a single prayer to her husband for mercy to the victims
of this unprecedented proscription, was eager to participate in the
profit, and had a hundred sentenced men awarded to her, the profit
on which was calculated at one thousand pounds. Her maids of honour
solicited a share of this blood-money, and had a fine of seven thousand
pounds on these poor girls assigned to them.

The only persons who escaped from this sea of blood were Grey, Sir
John Cochrane, who had been in Argyll's expedition, Storey, who had
been commissary to Monmouth's army, Wade, Goodenough, and Ferguson.
All these owed their escape to money or their secret services in
giving information against their old friends, except Ferguson, who by
some means escaped to the Continent. On the other hand, Bateman, the
surgeon who had bled Oates in Newgate after his scourging, and by his
attentions saved his life, was, for a mere duty of his profession,
arrested, tried, hanged, and quartered.

James now seemed at the summit of his ambition. He had established an
actual reign of terror. The dreadful massacre of the West struck dumb
the most courageous, and this gloomy tyrant gave full play to his love
of cruelty. The Nonconformists were everywhere beset by informers, who
imprisoned, robbed, and abused them at pleasure. They could only meet
for worship in the most obscure places and in the most secret manner.
Their houses were broken into and searched on pretence of discovering
conventicles. Their ministers were seized and thrust into prison.
Baxter was there; Howe was obliged to escape abroad. Never, even in
the time of Laud, had the oppression been so universal and crushing.
All spirit of resistance appeared to be quenched in terror. The close
of the year 1685 was long remembered as one of indescribable and
unexampled depression and speechless misery.

James, on the contrary, never was so triumphant. He believed that he
had now struck effectual terror into the country, and might rule at
will. He had increased the army, and openly declared the necessity of
increasing it further. He had in many instances dispensed with the
Test Act in giving many commissions in the army to Catholics, and he
resolved to abolish both that Act and the Habeas Corpus Act. His great
design was to restore the Roman religion to full liberty in England;
he believed that he was able now to accomplish that daring deed.
Parliament was to meet in the beginning of November, and he announced
to his Cabinet his intention to have the Test Act repealed by it,
or, if it refused, to dispense with it by his own authority. This
declaration produced the utmost consternation. Halifax, however, was
the only member who dared to warn him of the consequences, and avowed
that he would be compelled to oppose the measure. James endeavoured to
win him over to his views, but finding it vain, determined to dismiss
him from office. His more prudent Councillors cautioned him against
such an act on the eve of the meeting of Parliament, on the ground
that Halifax possessed great influence, and might head a dangerous
opposition. But James was the last man to see danger ahead, and Halifax
ceased to be President of the Council. The news was received with
astonishment in England, with exultation in Paris, and with discontent
at the Hague.

The dismissal of Halifax produced a great sensation out of doors. The
Opposition gathered new courage. Danby and his party showed themselves
early to coalesce with the adherents of Halifax. The whispered
assurance that Halifax was dismissed for refusing to betray the Test
and Habeas Corpus Acts created general alarm, and even the leading
officers of the army did not hesitate to express their disapprobation.
Just at this crisis, only a week before Parliament would assemble, came
the news of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes by Louis XIV. This
Edict had been issued under the ministry of Richelieu, and had closed
the long and bloody war between Catholic France and its Protestant
subjects. Under certain restrictions the Huguenots were tolerated,
and were contented. But Louis, urged by the Jesuits, had long been
infringing on the conditions of the treaty. He had dismissed all
Huguenots from his service, had forbade them to be admitted to the
profession of the law, and compelled Protestant children to be educated
by Catholics. Now at length he abolished the Edict altogether, by which
the Huguenots were once more at the mercy of dragoons and ruffian
informers and constables. Their ministers were banished, their children
torn from them, and sent to be educated in convents. The unhappy people
seeing nothing but destruction before them, fled out of the kingdom
on all sides. No less than fifty thousand families were said to have
quitted France, some of them of high rank and name, the bulk of them
weavers in silk and stuffs, hatters, and artificers of various kinds.
Many settled in London, where they introduced silk weaving, and where
their descendants yet remain, still bearing their French names, in
Bethnal Green and Spitalfields. Others carried their manufacturing
industry to Saxony, and others emigrated to the Cape as vine growers.
France, by this blind act of bigotry, lost a host of her best citizens,
and had her arts carried to her rivals.

This was a terrible blow to the scheme of James for restoring
Romanism to power in England. The people justly said, if a politic
monarch like Louis could not refrain at such a serious cost from
persecuting Protestants, what was England to expect should Romanism
gain the ascendency here, under a bigoted and narrow-minded king like
James? James himself saw the full extent of the, to him, inopportune
occurrence, and professed to join heartily in the universal outcry of
Europe, not excepting the very Pope himself, and Spain, the land of
Jesuits and inquisitions; for those parties who were suffering from
the aggressions of Louis found it, like James, convenient to make an
outcry. What more irritated James was an address which the French
clergy in a body had presented to Louis, applauding the deed and
declaring that the pious king of England was looking to Louis for his
aid in reducing his heretical subjects. This address was read with
astonishment and terror by the English people, and James hastened to
condemn the revocation of the Edict, and to promote and contribute to
the relief of the refugees who had sought shelter here. This affected
sympathy did not last long.

On the 9th of November James met his Parliament. He congratulated them
on the suppression of the rebellion in the West, but observed that it
had shown how little dependence could be placed on the militia. It
would be necessary to maintain a strong regular force, and that would,
of course, require proportionate funds. He had, he observed, admitted
some officers to commissions who had not taken the test, but they were
such as he could rely on, and he was resolved to continue them there.
On their return to their House the Lords tamely voted him an address
of thanks, but with the Commons a demur on this head arose, and a
delay of three days was voted before considering an address. This was
ominous, and during the interval the ambassadors of Austria and the
Pope advised James not to quarrel with the Parliament. Barillon, on the
contrary, urged him towards the fatality, for which he required little
stimulus. If he quarrelled with his Parliament, he must become Louis's
slave, and leave Austria, Spain, and Italy at his mercy. When the
Parliament resumed the question, the members, both Whigs and Tories,
who were alike opposed to James's projected aggressions, carefully
avoided any irritating topic except that of the army. They took no
notice of the atrocities committed in the west; they did not revert to
the illegal practices by which members in the interest of Government
had been returned, but they skilfully proposed improvements in the
militia, so as to supersede the necessity of a standing army. When the
vote for Supply was proposed, the House carried a motion for bringing
in a Bill for rendering the militia more effective, and on this motion
Seymour of Exeter, a Tory, as well as Sir William Temple, and Sir John
Maynard, who had taken a leading part in the Parliamentary struggle
against Charles I., and was now upwards of eighty years of age, took
part: several officers of the army, including Charles Fox, Paymaster
of the Forces, voted on the popular side of the question. Of course
they were dismissed. But the House now having broken the ice, voted an
address to the king on the subject of maintaining inviolate the Test
Act. When they went into Committee for the Supply, the king demanded
one million two hundred thousand pounds, the House proposed four
hundred thousand pounds. They were afterwards willing to advance the
sum to seven hundred thousand pounds, but the Ministers put the motion
for the original sum to the vote, and were defeated. The next day the
Commons went in procession to Whitehall, with their address regarding
the test. James received them sullenly, and told them that whatever
they pleased to do, he would abide by all his promises. This was saying
that he would violate the Test Act as he had done. On returning to
their House, John Coke of Derby said he hoped they were all Englishmen,
and were not to be frightened from their duty by a few high words. As
the House had been careful to avoid any expressions disrespectful to
the king, they resented this manly but incautious speech, and committed
Coke to the Tower. The Court took courage at this proceeding, but
though the Commons had not all at once recovered their independent
tone, the discontent was strongly fermenting, and though Seymour had
at first in vain called on them to examine the abuses of the franchise
during the last election, they now took up the question, and Sir John
Lowther of Cumberland, another Tory member, headed this movement. The
same spirit in the same day broke out in the Lords. Though they had
voted thanks for the address, Halifax now contended that that was
merely formal, and the Earl of Devonshire, William Cavendish, the bosom
friend of Lord William Russell, and Viscount Mordaunt, afterwards
the celebrated Earl of Peterborough, proposed to consider the king's
speech, and vehemently denounced a standing army. What was still more
significant was, that Compton, the Bishop of London, a Royalist, and
the son of a Royalist--that Earl of Northampton who had fought for
Charles I.,--and who had, moreover, been the educator of the two
princesses, not only spoke for himself, but for the whole bench and
Church, and declared that the constitution, civil and ecclesiastic,
was in danger. Here was a quick end of the doctrine of Non-resistance.
Jeffreys endeavoured to reply to these ominous harangues, but the
bully of the bench, where he had it all his own way, here cut a very
different figure. He was scarified in a style of refined sarcasm,
against which his coarse Billingsgate was worse than harmless; it
recoiled upon his own head, and this brutal monster, cowardly as he was
insolent, sank prostrate before the whole House, and even gave way to a
dastardly flood of tears of shame. James, astonished and enraged, but
not warned by this first breath of the rising tempest, the next morning
hurried to the House of Lords and prorogued Parliament till the 10th of
February; but it never met again, being repeatedly prorogued, till the
national spirit arose which drove him from the throne.

[Illustration: JUDGE JEFFREYS. (_After a Painting by Sir Godfrey
Kneller._)]

The prorogation of Parliament was followed by the trial of three Whig
leaders of eminence. These were Gerard, Lord Brandon, the eldest son
of the Earl of Macclesfield, Hampden, the grandson of the patriot, and
Henry Booth, Lord Delamere. Hampden and Gerard were accused afresh of
having been concerned in the Rye House Plot, Delamere of having been
in league with Monmouth. Grey, Earl of Stamford, had been on the eve
of being tried by the Peers on a similar charge of concern in the Rye
House Plot, but the prorogation defeated that, and he was soon after
liberated. These were the men against whom Grey had been induced to
give information, and who, with Wade and Goodenough, were witnesses.
Hampden and Gerard were tried at the Old Bailey and condemned. But
Grey had stipulated that their lives should be safe, and they were
redeemed by their relatives at a heavy price. Delamere, as a peer of
the realm, was tried by a High Court of Peers, and as he was accused of
having been engaged with Monmouth, his life was in danger. Jeffreys was
appointed Lord High Steward, and he selected thirty peers as triers,
all of whom in politics were opposed to Delamere, and half of them
ministers and members of the royal household. He did not stop there,
but as he had a personal spite against Delamere for having complained
of him to Parliament when Chief Justice of Chester, and called him a
"drunken jackpudding," he did his best personally to condemn him. But
in spite of the murderous bias with which the villainous judge had
contrived the prisoner's death, the Lords Triers unanimously acquitted
him. This was a fact that equally electrified James and the country.
Both saw that there was a spirit abroad that was no longer to be
trifled with. The people openly rejoiced; the infatuated tyrant raged,
but took no warning. The very Tories who had carried the Crown hitherto
through every attempt, the Established Church which had preached
Non-resistance, saw the gulf, to the edge of which their principles had
brought them. Their loyalty paused at the threshold of Romanism, and
the destruction of the safeguards of the liberty of the subject. The
deadly artifices which an abandoned judge and a lawless monarch had
employed against the life of Delamere, might soon be practised against
every one of them. The spell of despotism, therefore, was broken. The
spirit of an unconquerable suspicion had reached the very cabinet and
the household of the Romish king, and his power was at an end.

But the greater the danger the more recklessly the bigotry-blinded
monarch rushed upon it. His father had been bent on destroying the
Constitution, but stood firm to the Anglican Church; James was resolved
to root out both Church and Constitution together; but to his narrow
intellect it never occurred that if his father lost his head in
attempting half of this impossible enterprise, his danger was double
in aiming at the whole. At the very beginning of the year 1686 he took
a sudden stride in the direction of avowed Romanism, and during the
whole year he marched forward with an insane hardihood that struck the
boldest and most adventurous of his friends with consternation. The
fact as to whether Charles II. had died a Catholic or a Protestant was
still a matter of dispute. A few knew the truth, more surmised, but
the bulk of the people still believed him to have been a Protestant.
James determined to sweep away the remaining delusion. He therefore
brought forth the two papers from Charles's strong box, and challenged
the whole bench of bishops to refute them. He especially called on
Sancroft, the Archbishop of Canterbury, to do it; but as the Primate
from policy declined it, James took it for granted that they were
secretly admitted to be unanswerable. He therefore had them printed in
magnificent style, and appended to them his own signature, asserting
that they were his late brother's own composition, and left in his
own handwriting. He had this proof of Charles's Romanism distributed
liberally to his courtiers, to the prelates and dignitaries of the
Church, and amongst the people, even delivering them out of his coach
window to the crowds as he drove about. He thus at once made known that
his late brother had been secretly a Romanist, and that he was himself
an open and uncompromising one.

His next step was to throw all the power of the Government into
the hands of the most unscrupulous Catholics. His brother-in-law,
Rochester, the Lord Treasurer, was nominally his Prime Minister, but
Sunderland and a knot of Catholics were the really ruling junto.
Sunderland, one of the basest men that ever crawled in the dust of a
Court's corruption, was the head of this secret cabal. Sunderland, in
the last reign, had been a violent Exclusionist. He had intrigued with
the Duchess of Portsmouth, through her, if possible, to bring Charles
to consent to this measure; but so soon as James was on the throne, he
became his most servile tool, declaring that as he had nothing to hope
but from the king's clemency and his own efforts to make compensation
for the past, James could have no more efficient servant. James, who
was a mean soul himself, did not spurn this meanness, but made use of
it, and truly Sunderland earned his dirty bread. Avarice was his master
vice, and he would have sold two souls for money if he had them. He
retained the post of President of the Council, and held with it his
old one of Secretary of State; whilst observing the course which James
was taking, he did not despair to wrest from the staunch Protestant
Rochester his still more lucrative office of Lord Treasurer. He had not
the foresight to perceive that the project which James entertained to
restore Romanism must bring speedy destruction on them all. This sordid
minister was, at the same time, in the pay of Louis, at the rate of six
thousand pounds a year, to betray all his master's most secret counsels
to him.

With Sunderland were associated in the secret Romish junto--Sunderland
himself not being an avowed Catholic, but a private professor--some
of those Catholic lords who had been imprisoned on account of the
Popish plots--Arundel, Bellasis, and William Herbert, Earl of Powis. To
these were added Castlemaine, the man who for a title and revenue had
sold his wife to Charles II. He had been imprisoned, too, on account
of the Popish plot, and was ready to take vengeance by assisting to
destroy his Protestant enemies and their Church together. With him were
associated two of the most profligate and characterless men of that
profligate age--Jermyn, celebrated for his duels and his licentious
intrigues, and lately created by James Lord Dover, and a man familiarly
named Dick Talbot--whom James had also for these crimes, which were
merits in James's eyes, made Earl of Tyrconnel. These merits were, that
Talbot was ready for any service of unmanly villainy that his master
could desire. Like another prime favourite and associate of James,
Lord Chancellor Jeffreys, Tyrconnel was notorious for his drinking,
gambling, lying, swearing, bullying, and debauchery. He was equally
ready to lie away a woman's character or to assassinate a better man
than himself. In the last reign, when it was desired by the Court to
ruin the character of James's wife, Anne Hyde, that she might be got
rid of, he joined with Colonel Berkeley in the infamous assertion that
they had had the most familiar intrigues with her. When they did not
succeed with James, they as readily confessed that the whole was a lie.
A man with the least spark of honour in him would have remembered this
unpardonable villainy to his now deceased wife, and have banished the
wretch from Court. James promoted him, and made him one of his most
intimate companions. Tyrconnel offered to murder the Duke of Ormond,
and was rewarded for his readiness by being made commander of the
forces in Ireland; but his services were chiefly at present demanded at
Court.

[Illustration: FOURPENNY PIECE OF JAMES II.]

To this precious cabal was added Father Petre, the Jesuit Provincial,
brother of Lord Petre, and the organ of the Jesuits at Court. The Pope,
too, had his agents at Court, Adda, his nuncio, and a vicar-apostolic;
but these advocated cautious measures, for Innocent XI. had a difficult
card to play in the Popedom. Louis, the greatest of the Catholic kings,
was the most dangerous enemy of the temporal power of the Pope, as of
every other temporal power, and the Jesuits were all at variance with
him, because he leaned toward the Jansenist party, which at this time
was in the ascendency, through the triumphant attacks on the Jesuits by
Pascal in his "_Lettres Provinciales_." The Jesuits, on the contrary,
advocated all James's views. These generally subtle men seemed driven,
by their falling estimation all over Europe, to clutch at a hope of
power in England, and they had at all times been famed for their sly
policy of insinuation rather than for their caution and moderation when
successful. For their high-handed proceedings they had then, as they
have since, been driven again and again from almost every Christian
country. They did not display more than their ordinary foresight in the
affairs of James.

But we should not possess a complete view of the position and character
of James's Court if we did not take in a few other actors--the French
king's agents, and the king's mistresses. To Barillon, who had so long
been ambassador at the English Court, and the agent of Louis's bribes,
the French king had sent over Bonrepaux; and whilst Barillon attached
himself to Sunderland and the secret Catholic cabal, Bonrepaux devoted
his attentions to Rochester and his section of the ministry, so that
Louis learned the minutest movements and opinions of both parties.
These parties, in their turn, made use of the king's mistresses; for
James, although in disposition the very opposite of Charles, was,
with all his morose profession of zealous piety, just as loose in his
adulteries.

[Illustration: FIVE-GUINEA PIECE OF JAMES II.]

With the aid of the Council of his Catholic cabal, James now began
in earnest to put down Protestantism in this kingdom, and restore
Romanism. As there was no hope of money from Parliament, he made his
peace with the King of France, stooped his shoulder to the burden, and
became once more a servant unto tribute. He abandoned all the best
interests of England, apologised to Louis for having received the
Huguenots, and took measures to defeat the very subscription in their
favour which he had commenced and recommended. He arrested John Claude,
one of the refugees who had published an account of the persecutions of
the Huguenots by Louis, and caused his book to be publicly burnt. In
spite of this and his open discouragement, the subscription amounted
to forty thousand pounds, but he took good care that the unfortunate
Huguenots should never get the money, by ordering every one who applied
for it to first take the Sacrament according to the Anglican ritual,
which he knew differed so much from their own mode, as to form an
effectual bar, which it did. And this was the man who complained of the
Test Act as a violation of conscience. He had himself dispensed with
this Act in defiance of the law, but he now sought to obtain a sanction
from the judges for the breach of the Act. To Parliament he durst not
appeal; he therefore called on the twelve judges to declare that he
possessed this dispensing power as part of his prerogative. The judges
to a man refused; he dismissed them and appointed more pliant ones.
But the law officers of the Crown were equally stubborn. Sawyer, the
Attorney-General, told the king that he dared not do it, for it was not
to abolish a statute, but the whole statute law from the accession of
Elizabeth. Sawyer was too useful to be dismissed, but Heneage Finch,
the Solicitor-General, was turned out, and Powis, a barrister of no
mark, was put in his place. A case was immediately tried in the Court
of King's Bench, to obtain the judges' sanction. Sir Edward Hales
was formally prosecuted for holding a commission in the army, being
a Catholic; but the Lord Chief Justice, Sir Edward Herbert, took the
opinion of the new judges upon it, which was, that the king possessed
the power to dispense with the Act, and judgment was given accordingly.
No sooner was James in possession of this decision of the King's Bench,
than he appointed the four Catholic lords of his secret cabal members
of the Privy Council--namely, Arundel, Bellasis, Powis, and Dover.

Having perpetrated this daring act in the Council, James hastened to
exercise the same power in the Church. Encouraged by the known opinions
and intentions of the king, several clergymen who had outwardly
conformed to the Church of England and held livings, now threw off the
mask and proclaimed themselves of the Catholic Church, and applied
to James to authorise them still to hold their livings. These were
Obadiah Walker, Master of University College, Oxford; Boyce, Dean, and
Bernard, fellows of different colleges; and Edward Sclater, curate of
Putney and Esher. The king granted them dispensations to hold their
livings, despite their avowed conversion to the doctrines of another
Church, on the plea that he would not oppress their consciences. But
to support men in holding livings in a Church which they had abandoned
was so outrageous a violation of that Church's conscience, that it
was impossible long to be submitted to. James, in his very contracted
mind, imagined that, because the bishops and ministers had so zealously
advocated absolute submission to his will, they would practise it.
How little could he have read human nature. Of these sudden converts,
Sclater and Walker as suddenly reconverted themselves at the Revolution.

James having now his hand in, went on boldly. He had permitted
professed converts to Catholicism to retain their Protestant livings,
he next appointed a Catholic to a Church dignity. John Massey, a Fellow
of Merton, who had gone over to Rome, was, in violation of every
local and national statute, appointed Dean of Christ Church. Massey at
once erected an altar and celebrated Mass in the cathedral of Christ
Church, and James told the Pope's nuncio that this should soon be
the case in Cambridge. It remained now only to fill the sees of the
Church with Catholic bishops as they fell vacant; and to enable him
to do that, it was necessary, in the first place, to possess himself
of a power in the Church like that which he had assumed in the State.
He must have a tribunal before which he could summon any refractory
clergy, as he could now by his pliant judges control any appeal to the
bench. He therefore determined to revive the Court of High Commission,
that terrible engine of the Tudors and the Stuarts, which the Long
Parliament had put down. This court had power not only to cite any
clergyman before it who dared to preach or publish anything reflecting
on the views or measures of the king, but "to correct, amend, and alter
the statutes of the universities, churches, and schools," or where the
statutes were bad to make new ones, and the powers of the Commission
were declared to be effectual for these purposes, "notwithstanding any
law or statute to the contrary." In fact, all the powers of the High
Commission were revived, and the old device and motto were adopted on
the seal.

[Illustration: WINDSOR CASTLE, FROM THE BROCAS.]

This was a direct and daring declaration of war on the Church. The
Act of Supremacy was thus turned against it, and every clergyman,
professor, and schoolmaster, from the Primate to the simple curate and
tutor, was laid at the mercy of this insane tyrant. The alarm of the
whole Court and country when this outstanding fact was made known,
was indescribable. The staunchest courtiers trembled at the temerity
of the monarch: the French ministers and the Jesuits alone applauded.
The new and terrible power of the tribunal was quickly brought into
play. The Commission was made known about the middle of July, and seven
commissioners were named. At their head stood Jeffreys, who was now to
display his truculent spirit in the character of a Grand Inquisitor.
The six other commissioners were Archbishop Sancroft, Bishops Crewe of
Durham and Sprat of Rochester, Lords Rochester, Sunderland, and the
Chief Justice Herbert. Sancroft excused himself from acting on the
plea of ill-health, and James in anger immediately ordered him to be
omitted in the summons to the Privy Council, saying, if his health were
too bad to attend the Commission, it was equally so to attend the
Council, and Cartwright, Bishop of Chester, was put on the Commission
in his stead. These pliant Churchmen and courtiers were quickly shown
what work they had to do. Amongst the clergymen who had ventured to
preach against the Roman Church, and to reply to the attacks which the
Romish preachers were now emboldened to make on the Anglican Church,
beginning at Whitehall itself, Sharp, Dean of Norwich, and one of
the royal chaplains, had been honest enough to defend his own faith,
and expose the errors of Rome, in a sermon at his own Church of St.
Giles's-in-the-Fields. Compton, the Bishop of London, was immediately
called upon by Sunderland to suspend him. But Compton, though he had
lately fallen under the royal displeasure for opposing James's designs
in the House of Lords, and had been dismissed from the Privy Council,
and from his post of Dean of the Royal Chapel, replied that he could
not suspend Sharp without hearing him in his defence. Thereupon Compton
was at once summoned before the new Commissioners. He demurred,
declared the Court illegal, that he was a prelate, and amenable only
to his peers in the Church, or, as lord of Parliament, to his peers in
Parliament. Consenting, however, at length to appear, he was abruptly
asked by Jeffreys why he had not suspended Sharp. Compton demanded a
copy of the Commission, to see by what right they summoned him. This
roused the base blood of Jeffreys, who began to insult the prelate,
as he had done many a good man before, declaring that he would take
another course with him; but the rest of the Commissioners recalled the
brutal bully to a sense of the respect due to the bishop. After the
hearing of the case, Rochester, Herbert, and Sprat declared for his
acquittal; but James, enraged at his Treasurer, vowed if he did not
give his vote against Compton, he would dismiss him from his office.
The place-loving minister gave way. Compton was suspended from his
spiritual functions, but dared the Court to touch his revenues; and the
Chief Justice warned James that did he attempt to seize them, he would
be defeated at common law. For awhile, therefore, James was obliged to
restrain his proceedings till, as he resolved, he had put the laws more
completely under his feet.

But enough had already been done to produce a change such as never had
been seen in England since the days of Queen Mary. Encouraged by the
king's countenance and proceedings, the Catholics now openly set at
nought all the severe laws against them, their chapels, and priests.
Though it was still death by the law for any Romish clergyman to appear
in England, and all meetings of Catholics for worship were forbidden
under the severest penalties, the streets now swarmed with the clergy
in full canonicals, and Popish chapels were opened in every part of
the kingdom. The Protestant public gazed in astonishment at sights
which neither they nor their fathers had beheld in England. The frieze
cowls, and girdles of rope, crosses, and rosaries, passed before them
as apparitions of an almost fabulous time. James threw open the old
chapel at St. James's, where a throng of Benedictine monks located
themselves. He built for himself a public chapel at Whitehall, and
induced Sandford, an Englishman, but the envoy of the Prince Palatine,
to open a third in the City. A brotherhood of Franciscans established
themselves in Lincoln's Inn Fields; another of Carmelites appeared in
the City; a convent was founded in Clerkenwell, on the site of the
ancient cloister of St. John, and a Jesuit church and school were
opened in the Savoy, under a rector named Palmer.

The same ominous change appeared all over the country, especially in
those districts where Catholics were numerous. But neither in town
nor country were the common people disposed to see the whole empire
of Popery thus restored. They assembled and attacked the Catholics
going into their chapels, insulted them, knocked down their crosses
and images, and turned them into the streets. Hence riots ran high and
fiercely in London, Worcester, Coventry, and other places. The Lord
Mayor ordered the chapel of the Prince Palatine in Lime Street to be
closed, but he was severely threatened by the king and Jeffreys. The
mob then took the matter into their hands; they attacked the chapel at
high Mass, drove out the people and priests, and set the cross on the
parish pump. It was in vain that the train bands were ordered out to
quell the riot; they refused to fight for Popery.

But this spirit, which would have caused a wiser monarch to pause,
only incensed James, and he assembled an army of thirteen thousand
men on Hounslow Heath to overawe the City, and conveyed thither
twenty-six pieces of artillery, and ample supplies of ammunition from
the Tower. But it boded little prospect of support from his army that
the people of London immediately fraternised with it, and the camp
became the great holiday resort of all classes, resembling, in the
strange concourse of strange characters who appeared there, Schiller's
description of the camp of Wallenstein. James, however, was proud of
his army, and flattered himself that from his having formerly been a
general in the French service, he could command it to some purpose. But
there were as clever tacticians as himself at work. He allowed Mass
to be publicly celebrated in the tent of Lord Dumbarton, the second
in command, and this, with the known fact that many officers were
Catholics, and the sight of priests and friars strolling about amongst
the tents, roused the zeal of Protestant patriots. Foremost amongst
these was Dr. Samuel Johnson, who had been chaplain to Lord William
Russell, and was a man of liberal ideas of government, and a sturdy
champion of Protestantism. In the last reign he had written a severe
satire on James, under the title of "Julian the Apostate," in which he
drew a vigorous parallel between the Roman apostate and the English
one. Julian, according to him, an idolater even when he pretended not
to be, was a persecutor when he pretended freedom of conscience, and
robbed cities of their municipal charters, which were zealous for the
true faith. For this daring philippic he was prosecuted and imprisoned
in the King's Bench, but this did not prevent him from still making
war on the Popish prince. "Julian" Johnson, as he was called, had
found, while imprisoned in the King's Bench, congenial society in
the companionship of a fellow-prisoner, whose name was Hugh Speke.
This man, Speke, being of a gloomy, seditious temperament, furnished
"Julian" Johnson with money to print, and encouraged him by every kind
of argument in endeavouring to excite in the Hounslow camp an active
spirit of hostility to the Romish schemers. Thereupon Johnson wrote and
published a stirring address to the soldiers, which was distributed
in thousands amongst the army. There could be no mistake concerning
the style of this document, even if the writer and his friend had kept
their counsel, as they did not. The publication was speedily traced to
Johnson, who was thereupon brought up to the bar of the King's Bench,
and, after a long examination, condemned to stand three times in the
pillory, to be whipped from Newgate to Tyburn, and to pay a fine of
five hundred marks.

Johnson was one of those sturdy, uncompromising reformers--always
found, like the petrel, just before the occurrence of a storm--who
are regarded with almost more terror and aversion by men of more
moderate views or weaker nerves, than by the national offenders whom
they attack. When assured by the judge that he might be thankful to
the Attorney-General that he had not arraigned him of high treason, he
indignantly replied that he thanked him not; that he did not consider
himself favoured by being degraded and whipped like a hound, when
Popish writers disseminated with impunity what they pleased. This
was denied by the Attorney-General and the bench; but Johnson was
prepared for them, and pulling a whole mass of such publications from
his pocket, which were issued by permission of the royal censor, he
read their titles aloud, saying, "There, let Mr. Attorney-General now
show whether he will do his duty by them." To spare the priesthood
degradation in the person of Johnson, he was cited, at the command of
the High Commission, before Crewe and Sprat, the royal Commissioners,
accompanied by the Bishops of Rochester and Peterborough, to the
chapter-house of St. Paul's, and personally degraded from his order.
In having the Bible taken from him in the ceremony, Johnson shed some
tears, but said, "You cannot deprive me of its blessed promises." He
received two hundred and seventeen lashes in enforcing his punishment,
but bore it stoutly, and declared that he could have sung a psalm had
he not deemed that it might appear like bravado.

Though the clergy blamed Johnson, and stood aloof from him as a
firebrand, because he preached resistance to Popery, which they were
soon to do themselves, they were now loud in their pulpits in replying
to its attacks, and exposing its lying legends, and its mummery of
relics, its tricks of priestcraft, its denial of the Scriptures and
the Cup to the laity, the celibacy of the clergy, the abuse of the
confessional, and the idolatry of image worship, and prayers to saints.
Distinguished amongst these declaimers were Tillotson, Tenison,
Stillingfleet, Sherlock, Prideaux, Wake, Atterbury, and many lesser
lights in the pulpit. But this zeal was not confined to preachers,
for the printing presses of the Universities were kept constantly
going. The Catholics, under royal patronage, replied as actively, and
the war of pamphlets and pulpits foreshadowed a war of actual arms.
James, as blind to all signs of the times as his father had been,
went insanely on his way, now eagerly endeavouring to convert his
daughter Anne, and now as resolutely scheming to deprive his daughter
Mary of the succession. In Scotland and Ireland his crusade against
the constitution of the realm and the Protestant religion was equally
fierce and reckless.

To Scotland James sent down orders to the Government to dispense with
the test and admit Catholics to all offices, and nothing was to be
published without the Chancellor's licence, so that no reflections
might be made on the Catholic religion or the king's order. The Duke of
Queensberry--who was Lord Treasurer, and therefore regarded as Prime
Minister--though a Tory, declared that he would not undertake to do
anything against the Protestant religion, but there were not wanting
sycophants who were ready to attempt just what the king pleased, in the
hope of supplanting Queensberry. These were Lord Perth, the Chancellor,
and his brother Lord Melfort, Secretary of State. They went over to
Romanism as a means of preferment, and were imitated by the Earl of
Murray, a descendant of the Regent, and a member of the Privy Council.
Perth opened a Catholic chapel in his house, and soon received a cargo
of priests' dresses, images, crosses, and rosaries. The incensed
mob attacked the house during Mass, tore down the iron bars from
the windows, chased the worshippers from their shrine, and pelted
Lady Perth with mud. The soldiers were called out, and considerable
bloodshed followed. James, irritated instead of being warned, sent
down orders to punish the rioters severely, to screen the Catholics
from penalties, and to renew the persecution of the Covenanters with
all rigour. Alarmed at these insensate commands, three members of the
Privy Council--the Duke of Hamilton, Sir George Lockhart, and General
Drummond--hastened up to London to explain to James the impossibility
of enforcing them, but made no impression.

On the 29th of April the time arrived for the meeting of the Scottish
Parliament, when a letter from James was read calling on the Estates to
pass a Bill freeing the Catholics from all penalties; but so far from
the Parliament accepting such a proposition, the Lords of the Articles,
whose business it was to introduce the propositions for new measures,
and who had been chosen by James himself, declined to comply with the
proposal. In vain they were urged by Perth, Melfort, and Murray; they
remained refractory for three weeks, and then only dared to recommend
that the Catholics should be permitted to worship in their own houses.
But even this the Parliament would not consent to, and, after a week's
debate, threw out even this very much modified scheme. James, who had
during this discussion seen the intense anxiety in England to learn
the news of the progress of the debate, perpetrated one of the most
audacious acts of arbitrary power that modern times have witnessed.
He sent for the mail bags from the North regularly, and detained all
correspondence thence till the matter was ended. No single Scottish
letter was issued in London for a whole week.

When at last the news, in spite of him, burst forth amid loud
rejoicings, he was enraged, but, like his father, he declared that
he would do by his own royal authority what he wanted; that he had
been only foolish in asking for what the Act of Supremacy gave him in
Scotland as perfectly as in England. He therefore launched the bolts
of his vengeance at those who had disputed his will. Queensberry was
dismissed from all his offices, the Bishop of Dunkeld ejected from his
see, and crowds of Papists were appointed to the posts of those who
had refused to obey the royal mandate. Without the ceremony of an Act
of Parliament, James proceeded to usurp the rights of boroughs, and
to appoint provosts and town councillors at his will; he ordered the
judges to declare all the laws against Catholics void, and announced
his intention of fitting up a Roman Catholic chapel in Holyrood. These
measures struck a momentary terror and deep silence into the Scottish
people, but it was only the silence preceding the storm.

In Ireland James had a preponderating body of Catholics eager to
receive justice and the restoration of their estates at his hands.
But only a wise and cautious monarch could succeed in making decent
recompense to the native Irish for their many sufferings and
spoliations. Their lands, by the Act of Settlement, were for the most
part in the hands of a sturdy race of Englishmen, both Episcopalians
and Presbyterians, who had been placed there at successive periods,
and extensively by the Commonwealth. To announce that he would repeal
this Act, and reinvest the natives with their ancient demesnes, was at
once to rouse to arms a body of such pluck and nerve as the Celtic race
had no chance with, notwithstanding their numbers. At the news that
the Act was to be revoked, and the Church and Government of Ireland
to be put into the hands of Catholics, the timid English gentry fled,
the trade of the island received a paralysing blow, and the sturdy
Saxon population prepared not only to defend their possessions, but to
exterminate, if necessary, the aboriginal tribes.

Clarendon, the Lord-Lieutenant, the brother of Rochester, the Prime
Minister of England, in great alarm wrote to James, detailing the
immediate effects of this announcement; but James persisted in his
obstinate course. He declared that the Protestants were his enemies,
and that it was necessary to fortify himself with his friends; that
his father had lost his head by conceding--he should have said by
conceding too late,--and that he would concede nothing. He went on
putting Catholics into the Privy Council, into the corporations and
the army, dismissing Protestants to make room for them. He then sent
out Tyrconnel, as his unscrupulous instrument, to occupy the post
already his, of head of the army; he was at the same time furnished
with instructions to take virtually all the functions of government
into his hands, and reduce Clarendon to a cipher. Clarendon, like
all the Hydes, was meanly attached to office and its emoluments, or
he would at once have resigned rather than suffer the indignity of
beholding his office usurped by a bullying ruffian like Tyrconnel.
This desperate gambler, duellist, and debauchee, soon began to talk
of the Act of Settlement as a damned and villainous thing; set about
remodelling the army so as to exclude all Protestants, and replace them
by Catholics; officers and men of the Protestant faith were dismissed
by wholesale; he was in league with the priests to drill the entire
Papist population, so as to confer the whole power of the island on
them, and place every Protestant throat at their mercy. In a very few
weeks he had introduced two thousand Popish soldiers into the army,
and gave out that by Christmas the whole of the troops would be native
Catholic. In the Church and the State he pushed on rudely the same
measures, and with a violence of conduct and of language which appeared
more like drunken madness than anything else. Taking the cue from him,
and instructed by the priests, everybody treated Clarendon with marked
insult and contempt. Still clinging meanly to office, he appealed to
his brother in London to obtain for him more honourable treatment, but
was thunderstruck by the news that Rochester himself had been dismissed.

[Illustration: PARLIAMENT HALL, EDINBURGH.]

Rochester, the champion to whom the Protestants of the Anglican Church
looked up for aid, had, as miserably as his brother, disgraced himself
by suffering his honour to be compromised by the love of office and
income. He saw the career which James was running, and which no
remonstrance or popular menace could arrest, and instead of resigning
with dignity when his counsels became useless, he had even flattered
James with the hope of his conversion. But he did not deceive the
Jesuit Cabal which surrounded and governed James. They assured the
king that nothing would ever make Rochester a genuine supporter of
Catholic views, and the sooner he cut himself loose from the connection
the better. Accordingly, on the 19th of December, the king, with many
professions of regard, took from his brother-in-law Rochester the
Treasurer's staff, but softened his fall by granting him out of Lord
Grey's estate lands to the yearly value of seventeen hundred pounds,
and an annuity of four thousand pounds for his own life and that of
his son. He was spared also the mortification of seeing his rival
Sunderland invested with his office; the Treasurership was put in
commission; Lord Arundel received the Privy Seal, and Bellasis was
made First Lord of the Treasury, whilst Dover, a ruined gambler, and
Godolphin received places at the board.

The fall of Clarendon followed rapidly on that of Rochester. On the
8th of January, 1687, he received the order to resign his post to
Tyrconnel. Such was the panic at this news, that no less than fifteen
hundred families of gentlemen, merchants, and tradesmen, are said to
have fled from Dublin to England in a week, and a reign of terror
commenced all over Ireland. The known intentions of the king, and the
character of his Lord-Lieutenant, were the signals for proscription
to all Protestants, and they were turned out of the army, the offices
of State, from the bench, and the magistracy, with an indecency which
astonished the moderate Catholics themselves. Law and justice appeared
to be at an end. The worst passions of a population long loaded with
every species of injustice were let loose, and the once dominant race
now saw themselves the objects of unconcealed hatred and recrimination.
The wild population drove off their cattle, set fire to their houses,
and the newly-raised soldiery devoted themselves with the gusto of
vengeance to pillaging, murdering, and outraging the Protestant
settlers with a frightful exultation.

Such were the ominous circumstances under which the year 1687 opened.
By driving from him his relatives, the Hydes, James had severed the
last ties between him and Protestantism; had demolished the last
guarantees of Protestant security. The whole Protestant public, and
many of the more clear-sighted Catholics, looked forward with an awful
sense of impending mischief, and they were only too correct in their
apprehensions.

James was determined to push forward his schemes for the restoration of
Romanism in defiance of every long-cherished prejudice of the people,
and of every constitutional principle. Besides the conversions which
interest had made amongst the courtiers, there were a few other persons
of more or less distinction who for royal favour had apostatised,
but the number was most insignificant. The Earl of Peterborough,
and the Earl of Salisbury--the descendant of Cecil, Elizabeth's
minister,--had embraced Catholicism, and amongst literary men some
half dozen. There were Wycherley, the obscene dramatist, Haines, a low
comedian, and Tindal, who afterwards became a professed deist; but the
most remarkable and deplorable instance was that of the poet Dryden.
Dryden had sufficiently degraded his fine talents by plays and other
compositions which could not be read now without a blush; but his
compliance with the impure taste of the age had not enriched him. He
enjoyed a pension of one hundred pounds a year from Charles, but that
expired with Charles, and James, on renewing it, withdrew the usual
butt of sack which accompanied it. After that no further notice was
taken of the poet who had rendered such services to the royal cause,
and, pressed by his needs, Dryden declared himself a Papist, and was
speedily rewarded by royal notice and emolument. Henceforward his pen
was employed to defend the royal religion, and the most remarkable
result of his labours remains in his celebrated poem of "The Hind and
Panther."

Slight as were these triumphs over the steadfast minds of Englishmen,
James began now to be aware that he must win over bodies which he
really hated, and had hitherto persecuted with all his might, if he
meant to succeed. We have had occasion to relate the horrible cruelties
and sanguinary ferocity with which he had pursued the Covenanters in
Scotland and the Puritans in England, but he now deemed it necessary
to pretend himself their friend. The Church had so uniformly and
vehemently proclaimed the doctrine of Non-resistance, that he
imagined he was pretty sure of it; but in Scotland and England the
Nonconformists were a numerous and sturdy race, and danger from them
might be apprehended in case Romanism was too exclusively reinstated.
He therefore concluded to make his approaches to this object by
feigning a love of religious liberty. He commenced first in Scotland
by issuing a Declaration of Indulgence, on the 12th of February,
1687, but with an avowal of absolutism and a niggardly concession of
religious liberty, which were not likely to be very gratefully received
by the Scots. "We, by our sovereign authority, prerogative royal and
absolute power, do hereby give and grant our royal toleration. We allow
and tolerate the modern Presbyterians to meet in their private houses,
and to hear such ministers as have been or are willing to accept of our
indulgence; but they are not to build meeting-houses, but to exercise
in houses. We tolerate Quakers to meet in their form in any place or
places appointed for their worship; and we, by our sovereign authority,
suspend, stop, and disable all laws and Acts of Parliament made and
executed against any of our Roman Catholic subjects, so that they shall
be free to exercise their religion and to enjoy all; but they are to
exercise in houses or chapels; and we cass, disannul, and discharge all
oaths by which our subjects are disabled from holding offices."

Thus James had declared himself absolute, above all laws, and at
liberty to discharge any Act of Parliament. The same breath which gave
a decree of religious liberty, annihilated every other liberty, and
made the whole nation dependent on the will of one man. But whilst thus
sweeping away all the labours of all past Parliaments at his pleasure,
he with an inconsistency which betrayed a secret feeling that the power
of Parliament was not so easily set aside, even then contemplated
calling Parliament together if he could have but a prospect that it
would confirm what he had done in Scotland, and proposed immediately
to do in England. He therefore commenced a system of what has been
called "closetings." He sent for the Tory members of Parliament, who
were in town, one by one, and taking them into his closet at Whitehall,
tried by personal persuasions and by bribes--for though dreadfully
penurious, he now all at once became liberal of promises, and tolerably
liberal of money--and entreated the members to oblige him by voting for
the abolition of the laws against Catholics, which he told them had
been, in truth, directed against himself; and whilst he promised, he
threatened, too, in case his wishes were not complied with. Whilst he
made this experiment in town, the judges now on circuit were ordered to
send for the members in the country to the different county towns, and
use the same persuasions. The result was by no means satisfactory. If
there was one feeling stronger than another which had taken possession
of the public mind, it was, then and long after, that the Catholics
were not to be trusted with power, and that to grant them opportunity
would be to restore the horrors of Queen Mary's days. James himself
met with some signal rebuffs, and in every instance he dismissed the
refusers from any office that they held; amongst them Herbert, Master
of the Robes, and Rear-Admiral of England.

As no good was to be obtained from Parliament, he at once prorogued it
again till November, asserting that he would grant toleration on his
own authority; and on the 8th of April he issued his "Declaration of
Indulgence for England." This Declaration, though in not quite positive
and reiterated terms, set forth the same principle of absolutism, and
independence of Parliament. "We have thought fit, by virtue of our
royal prerogative, to issue forth this our declaration of indulgence,
making no doubt of the concurrence of our two Houses of Parliament
when we shall think it convenient for them to meet." He made no secret
in it of wishing to see Catholicism the religion of the land; but,
as the people did not seem willing to accept it, he had resolved to
give to all professions of religion the same freedom. He talked like
a philosopher about the virtues and justice of entire toleration,
and the impolicy as well as injustice of persecution--conveniently
ignoring that his practice, whenever he had had the power, had been in
direct opposition to these smooth maxims. He not only then proceeded
to abolish all the penal acts which had ever been passed, giving
free right of worship, public or private, to all denominations, but
denounced the utmost vengeance of the laws against any one who should
disturb any congregation or person in the exercise of their religion.

The substance of the Declaration was admirable; it was so because it
was the Christian truth; but the deed had two defects, and they were
fatal ones. It was granted at the expense of the whole Constitution;
and to admit that it was valid was to abandon Magna Charta and the
Petition of Right, and accept instead the arbitrary will of the
monarch. The second and equally fatal objection was that every one
knew, from James's practice, and his proved deceitfulness, and his
obstinate persistency, that the whole was but a snare to introduce
Romanism, and then tread down every other form of religion. James
boasted to the Pope's nuncio that the Declaration would be a great
blow, and that in a general liberty of conscience the Anglican Church
would go down, for persecution of the Dissenters would then be revenged
upon her, and, unsupported by the Crown, she would meet with deserved
contempt. And, had the toleration been legitimately obtained and
guaranteed, after the servile conduct of the Church at that time,
this might have been the case. The Dissenters had every reason to be
thankful for toleration. They had been trodden down by the Anglican
hierarchy; they had been dragged before the arbitrary High Commission,
and plundered and imprisoned at pleasure. The bishops had supported
every unrighteous act against them--the Conventicle Acts, the Test Act,
the Five-Mile Act, the Act of Uniformity; and now they could enjoy
their property, the peace of their firesides, their liberty, and their
worship in the open sight of God and man. These were great boons, and,
therefore, a great number of Nonconformists expressed their gratitude
for them. The Quakers in particular sent up a grateful address, which
was presented by Penn with an equally warm speech; but both they and
the other Dissenters restricted themselves to thanking James for the
ease they enjoyed, without going into the question of his right to
grant it. Some few individuals, in their enthusiasm, or worked upon by
the Court, went beyond this; but the general body of the Nonconformists
were on their guard, and some of the most eminent leaders refused even
to address the king in acknowledgment of the boon. Amongst these were
Baxter, who had been so ignominiously treated by Jeffreys; Howe, who
had had to flee abroad; and Bunyan, who had suffered twelve years'
imprisonment for his faith; they boldly reminded their followers of the
unconstitutional and, therefore, insecure basis on which the relief
rested; that a Protestant successor might come--even if before that
Popery, grown strong, had not crushed them--and again subject them to
the harsh dominance of the Anglican hierarchy.

No exertions were omitted to induce the Dissenters to send up
addresses; and they were actively canvassed by members of their
different bodies, as Carr, Alsop, Lobb, and Rosewell, the last of whom
was liberated from prison for the purpose. James took care to throw
all the blame of the past persecutions on the Church, which, he said,
had been at the bottom of all those councils. The Church, on the other
hand, deserted by the Crown, retorted the accusation, and attributed
every act of persecution to the Government, to which it professed
unwillingly to have submitted. Thus was seen the edifying sight of the
two arch-oppressors quarrelling, and in their bitter recriminations
letting out the confession that they both knew very well how base and
un-Christian their conduct had been.

But there was a third party to which all alike looked with anxiety in
this crisis, and this consisted of William of Orange and his wife. As
Protestants, and the probable successors of James, if they approved
of the Indulgence, they would greatly strengthen the king; if they
disapproved of it altogether, it would give a shock to the Protestant
interest in England. But William was too politic not to see all the
bearings of the question, and he and the princess jointly avowed their
entire approval of complete toleration of all phases of the Christian
religion, but their disapproval of the illegal means by which James
aimed to effect it, and of Catholics being admitted to place and power.
These were precisely the views of the great majority of Englishmen;
and accordingly James sank still deeper in public odium on this
publication, and William and Mary rose in popularity. They seized the
opportunity to organise a most powerful party in their favour, and
thus pave the way to an accession to the throne, which their sagacity
assured them would much sooner arrive than the natural demise of the
king. Mary has been censured for so readily uniting in a plan to drive
her father from the throne. So long as the policy of James promised
a continuance of his power, no steps were taken by Mary to supersede
him; so soon as it became evident that no earthly power, to say nothing
of justice or right, could keep him on the throne, it became a mere
act of prudence to take care that no alien interest usurped her own.
That Mary contemplated or committed any act of personal cruelty or
harshness towards her father beyond securing her succession against an
intruder, remains to be shown. Her husband, with all his virtues, was
not proof against allowing, if not perpetrating, questionable acts;
and he had been so jealous of his dignity and power, that for years
he brooded in gloomy discontent on the prospect of Mary's succession
to the crown of England without his having any claim to share it, not
even communicating his splenetic feeling to her. But this secret was
penetrated by Burnet, explained to Mary and, through her generosity,
at once the difficulty was dissipated by her engaging to admit him to
a full share of her hereditary authority. From that moment William
redoubled his zeal to secure the succession; but there is no question
that Mary exerted her filial regard to secure her father against any
personal injustice.

[Illustration: JOHN DRYDEN. (_After the Portrait by Sir Godfrey
Kneller._)]

William now despatched to England orders to his ambassador, Dykvelt,
to use his endeavours to knit up the different sections of the
discontented into one paramount interest in his favour. The scattered
elements of an overwhelming power lay around the throne, which James,
by his blind folly and tyranny, had made hostile to himself, and
prepared ready to the hand of a master to combine for his destruction.
Danby, who had fallen in the late reign for his opposition to the
French influence, and who had been the means of uniting Mary to
William, had regained extensive influence amongst both Tories and
Whigs, and was driven by James into determined opposition. Halifax,
who had been the chief champion of James's accession by opposing the
Exclusion Bill, and whose dangerous eloquence made him especially
formidable, had been dismissed and neglected by him. Finch, Earl of
Nottingham, a zealous Tory and Churchman, and one of the most powerful
orators of the House of Lords, he made his enemy by his dismissal
of his younger brother from the post of Solicitor-General for not
acquiescing in the king's dispensing powers, and by his attacks on the
Church and the Constitution. The Earl of Devonshire he had managed, by
imprisonment and a monstrous fine, equally to disgust; and the Earl
of Bedford he had completely alienated by the execution of his son,
Lord William Russell. Compton, the Bishop of London; Herbert, lately
Rear-Admiral of England; Clarendon, Rochester, Lumley, Shrewsbury,
had all, by a most insensate folly, been offended by dismission and
private injuries. There was not a man of any talent or influence whom
this fatuous tyrant had not driven from him in his obstinate resolve to
set Romanism and despotism along with him on the throne, except Lord
Churchill, upon whom he continued to heap favours, but who was too
worldly-wise not to see that his benefactor was running headlong to
ruin, and who was by no means the man to share ruin out of gratitude.
Dykvelt executed his mission so well, that in four months he returned
to the Hague with a packet of letters in his possession from all those
noblemen, bishops, and others, including Admiral Russell, the cousin
of the decapitated Lord William Russell, promising William their most
enthusiastic support. From the Princess Anne, who was bound up heart
and soul with Churchill and his clever wife--afterwards the celebrated
Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough--her sister Mary also received the most
cordial assurances that nothing should induce her to abandon her
religion, or her attachment to her sister's rights.

Dykvelt returned from England on the 9th of June; and, to continue
the effect produced in that country, on the 8th of August another
agent in the person of General Zulestein was despatched thither. His
ostensible mission was to offer an address of condolence on the death
of the queen's mother, the Duchess of Modena; but his real one was to
strengthen the connection with the malcontents, which he could the more
unsuspectedly do from his military character, and from his having taken
no particular part in diplomacy. Zulestein was completely successful;
but these proceedings could not entirely escape James or his envoy at
the Hague, the Catholic Marquis of Abbeville, who succeeded in getting
Burnet, the active adviser of William, removed from open intercourse
with the Court. But Burnet was still not far off, and through his chief
counsellors, Bentinck and Halweyn, William still consulted with him
on every step of the plans regarding England. James also sought to
reach William through Stewart, a Scottish lawyer, who had fled from
his persecutions of the Covenanters to the Hague, but who, on the
appearance of the Declaration of Indulgence, most suddenly went to the
king's side, in hopes of promotion. Stewart wrote a letter to Fagel,
the Grand Pensionary, who had great influence with William, which he
confessed was at the suggestion of the king, strongly urging him to
use his power with William to persuade him to support James's act; but
Fagel, with a dexterous policy, replied in another letter, stating that
the prince and princess were advocates for the most ample toleration,
but not for the abolition of the Test, or of any other Act having
the inviolability of the Anglican Church for its object. This was
calculated to satisfy the Catholics of every privilege which they could
reasonably expect from the laws and the public opinion of England,
whilst it fully assured the Church of its safety under William and Mary.

Every fresh movement thus contributed to strengthen the position of
William, and to show to James, had he had sufficient mind to comprehend
it, how completely his conduct had deprived him of the confidence of
his subjects. Even the Pope took no pains to conceal how suicidal he
deemed his policy. He would have sufficiently rejoiced in any rational
prospect of the return of England to the Church of Rome, but he was not
dull enough to imagine the sentiment of the king the sentiment of the
nation; on the contrary, he was persuaded that the rash cabals of the
Jesuits were inevitably hastening a crisis which must the more deeply
root the Anglican antipathy to Popery. James had despatched Castlemaine
as ambassador to Rome with a splendid retinue. It was not enough
that this open affront was done to his country by sending a Catholic
ambassador to the Pope, and in the person, too, of a man who had no
distinction except the disgraceful one of having purchased his title by
the prostitution of his wife; but Castlemaine was deputed to solicit a
dispensation from Innocent for Father Petre to receive the Episcopal
dignity, which was forbidden to a Jesuit. James contemplated nothing
less than making Petre Archbishop of York, which see he kept vacant
for the purpose; but the Pope was too much at enmity with the Jesuits,
as well as with James for his impolitic conduct, and his alliance with
the great French aggressor, to concede any such favour. Castlemaine,
who was living in pomp at Rome, threatened to take his departure if
this request was not granted, and Innocent only sarcastically replied
by bidding him start in the cool of the morning, and take care of his
health on the journey.

This discourtesy shown him by the head of that religion for which he
was putting everything to the hazard, had, however, only the effect of
further raising the pugnacity of James. He determined only the more to
honour and exalt Popery in England. The nuncio, Adda, had been made
Archbishop of Amasia--a mere title of honour, in consequence of James's
desire that he should be publicly acknowledged at his Court. Hitherto
both he and the Vicar-Apostolic, Leyburn, had been instructed by the
Papal Court to keep a careful incognito; but James would no longer
consent to this; and, accordingly, on the 1st of May, 1686, Adda had
been publicly consecrated at Whitehall, by the titular Archbishop of
Ireland, assisted by Leyburn, the Vicar-Apostolic. In the evening of
that day the nuncio was received into the royal circle, in the queen's
apartments; and James shocked and disgusted his courtiers by falling
on his knees before him and imploring his blessing. It was the first
time that an English Court had seen their monarch, for a very long
period, doing homage at the feet of a Papal nuncio, and the effect was
humiliating. On the 3rd of July the nuncio was favoured with a public
reception at Windsor. He went thither attended by a numerous procession
of the ministers and of officials of the Court, and was conveyed in
a royal coach, wearing a purple robe, and a brilliant cross upon his
breast. In his train were seen with surprise and contempt the equipages
of Crewe, Bishop of Durham, and Cartwright, Bishop of Chester. The Duke
of Somerset, as First Lord of the Bedchamber, was expected to introduce
him; but he declined, representing the penalties to which the act would
expose him. This refusal was the less expected, because he had not
objected to carry the sword of State before his Majesty when the king
had gone to the royal Papal chapel. James was indignant. "I thought,"
he said, "that I was doing you a great honour by appointing you to
escort the minister of the first of all crowned heads." Somerset, moved
to a firmness of demeanour and language unusual even in him, declared
that he dared not break the law. James replied, "I will make you fear
me as well as the law. Do you not know that I am above the law?" "Your
Majesty," replied Somerset, with commingled dignity and affected
humility, "may be above the law, but I am not; and I am only safe while
I obey the law." The king, not used to being thwarted, much less to
language of so plain a sort, turned from him in a rage, and the next
day issued a decree depriving him of his posts in the Household and of
his command in the Guards.

This most impolitic conduct James followed, on the 1st of February,
1687, by a still more absurd and ludicrous, but equally mischievous,
reception. It was that of Cocker, an English Benedictine monk, who,
being more deeply implicated in treason than his friends cared to
confess, had narrowly escaped with his life in the trials of the Popish
plot. This man the Elector of Cologne had appointed his Resident at the
English Court--probably at the suggestion of James, and in defiance of
public opinion; and James now insisted that he should receive a public
introduction to Court, in the habit of his order, and attended by six
other monks in a like costume. Thus James took a pleasure in violating
the laws and insulting public opinion at every turn, to show that he
was independent of both; and he now prepared to commence in earnest the
destruction of the Church.

Before advancing to this dangerous experiment, however, he deemed it
necessary to tighten the discipline of the army, which had shown no
little disgust at his proceedings.

Many of James's soldiers had deserted, and it was found that they
were under no oath or obligation which rendered such desertion liable
to serious punishment. But James determined to punish them, even
condignly, in order to strike a sufficient terror into the whole army.
He consulted the judges as to whether he did not possess this power;
they said that he did not. Instead of accepting this answer, James
dismissed Herbert, the Chief Justice of the King's Bench, Sir John
Holt, another judge of the same bench and Recorder of London, and put
in their places Sir Robert Wright, a creature of Jeffreys', a man
of ruined and base character, Richard Allibone, and Sir Bartholomew
Shower as Recorder. With these infamous instruments he went to work;
and, instead of trying the offenders by court-martial, he brought them
before these men in the King's Bench and in the Old Bailey, and hanged
them in sight of their regiments. By these outrages on every law and
principle of constitutional safety James thought he had terrified the
army into obedience; and he now attacked the very existence of the
Universities, in order to give the education of the country into the
hands of Popery.

James commenced his encroachments on the Universities by ordering one
Alban Francis, a Benedictine monk, to be admitted a Master of Arts of
Cambridge. That many persons not strictly admissible by the rules of
the University had received honorary degrees, including foreigners of
different forms of faith, and even a Turk, was indisputable; but the
object of these favours was so clear that no mischief could arise from
the practice. But now the Universities were but too well aware that
James aimed at a thorough usurpation of these schools by the Catholics
to lightly pass the matter by. The heads of colleges sent hastily to
Albemarle, their Chancellor, begging him to explain to the king that
the person named could not be admitted according to the statutes; at
the same time they conceded so far as to offer to admit Francis on his
taking the Oaths of Supremacy and Obedience.

He refused. James menaced the authorities, but in vain, and he
summoned them before the High Commission Court. John Pechell, the
Vice-Chancellor of the University, attended by eight fellows, including
the illustrious Isaac Newton--afterwards Sir Isaac--appeared, and were
received by Jeffreys with all his devilish bluster. Pechell was soon
terrified at this most brutal monster, whose employment alone would
have sufficiently stamped the character of James; and, when any of
the other fellows attempted to speak, Jeffreys roared out, "You are
not Vice-Chancellor; when you are, you may talk; till then, hold your
tongue." Finding, however, that, though he could embarrass, he could
not bend the Vice-Chancellor, Jeffreys, by order of James, declared
Pechell dismissed from the office of Vice-Chancellor, and all his
emoluments suspended. This was a gross violation of the rights of the
University, and Jeffreys added to the outrage a piece of his usually
blasphemous advice to the fellows--"Go your way and sin no more, lest a
worse thing befall you."

[Illustration: JAMES DOING HOMAGE TO THE PAPAL NUNCIO. (_See p._ 323.)]

The decease of the President of Magdalen College, Oxford, enabled James
to follow up his plans without loss of time. Magdalen was one of the
very richest of the English foundations, and consisted of a president,
forty fellows, and thirty scholars, called Demies. It was the law of
the foundation that the President could only be elected from those
who were or had been members of that college, or of New College. The
President died in March, 1687, and the 13th of April was fixed for
the election of the new one. A Dr. Smith, a learned Orientalist, and
an enthusiastically loyal man, applied for the royal consent, but was
informed that the king was determined to give it only to one of his
own religion; and, to the astonishment and disgust of the college,
one Anthony Farmer was named as the royal nominee. The choice seemed
made to insult the University in the highest degree possible, for
not only was Farmer a Popish convert, but a man of the most drunken,
debauched, and infamous character that could have been picked from the
vilest haunts of unnamable wickedness. The astounded fellows humbly but
earnestly remonstrated, but in vain. On the appointed day, despite the
king's positive injunctions, and the presence of his agent, the choice
fell on a distinguished and highly virtuous member of the college, John
Hough.

The irate king summoned the fellows before the beastly Jeffreys and
the High Commission, as he had summoned the heads of the University of
Cambridge. There Jeffreys exhibited his wonted display of insufferable
Billingsgate; and when Dr. Fairfax, one of the fellows, had the
boldness to call in question the legality of the High Commission, he
lost all patience. "Who is this man? What commission has he to be
impudent here? Seize him; put him into a dark room. What does he do
without a keeper? He is under my care as a lunatic. I wonder nobody has
applied to me for the custody of him." But, after all, the character of
Farmer was shown to be so vilely reprobate, that he was dropped, and
the college ordered to receive Dr. Parker, Bishop of Oxford.

Parker was not an openly acknowledged Papist, but was understood to be
really one; but he was neither a fellow of Magdalen nor of New College,
and the fellows were firm enough to stand by their own election of Dr.
Hough. James determined to go in person to Oxford and overawe these
obstinate men; and he was the more bent upon it, having in the meantime
suffered a similar defeat in endeavouring to force a Catholic into the
hospital connected with the Charterhouse School. The trustees refused,
and were called before Jeffreys. There he began browbeating the master,
Thomas Burnet, but was unexpectedly opposed by the venerable Duke of
Ormond. At this the bully swagger of this most hideous and contemptible
judge that ever sat on a bench at once gave way, for he had no real
courage. He stole from the court, and the scheme failed for the day.
But the High Commission having sentenced Hough to be deposed from the
presidentship of Magdalen, and Fairfax from his fellowship, again
met, and summoned the trustees of the Charterhouse. Here again they
were awed by a letter addressed to the king, signed by the trustees,
including the names of Ormond, Halifax, Danby, and Nottingham, the
chiefs of all the great parties who secured to James his crown, and
still by their forbearance kept it on his head, so that they were
compelled to pause before proceeding farther.

On the 16th of August James set out on a progress, with every display
of royal state which could impress on the minds of his subjects an
idea of his kingly position. He proceeded to Portsmouth, Southampton,
Bath; thence by Gloucester and Worcester to Ludlow, Shrewsbury, and
Chester; whence he again turned south, and reached Oxford on the 3rd
of September. Everywhere he had been attended by the High Sheriffs
of the counties with splendid retinues; and the clergy in the towns
had flocked around him in great numbers, though he continued on his
progress to neglect their preaching for Mass. If outward circumstances
could be relied on, it might have been supposed that the king had
never been more popular; and, with all the _prestige_ of this tour, he
summoned the refractory fellows of Magdalen before him, and rated them
soundly on their disobedience. They knelt and offered him a petition,
but he haughtily refused to look at it, bidding them go that instant
and elect the Bishop of Oxford, or expect his high displeasure. But the
fellows could not be thus brought to submission, and James quitted the
town in high dudgeon.

On the 20th of October James sent down a special commission, consisting
of Cartwright, Bishop of Chester, Wright, Chief Justice of the King's
Bench, and Jenner, a baron of the Exchequer, attended by three troops
of cavalry, with drawn swords, to Oxford, to expel Hough and instal
Parker. Parker was installed, but the fellows would not acknowledge
him. James, therefore, ejected them altogether. In a few weeks Parker
died, and then the king proceeded to put the whole college into the
hands of Papists, appointing Gifford, one of the four vicars-apostolic,
president; for now, in the regular progress of his system, James had
admitted four vicars-apostolic instead of one, which had been the case
before. It may be imagined what resentment this arbitrary proceeding
occasioned, not only in the Universities themselves, but amongst the
clergy in every quarter of the kingdom, who now saw that nothing would
deter the king from uprooting the deepest foundations of the Church.

Still more daring and atrocious schemes were agitated by James and
his Popish cabal. Soon after his accession it had been proposed
to set aside the claims of the Princess of Orange, and make Anne
heir-apparent, on condition that she embraced Popery. Anne refused.
It was then proposed to make over Ireland to Louis of France in case
Mary of Orange could not be prevented from succeeding to England; and
Louis expressed his assent to the proposal. Tyrconnel was to make
all necessary preparations for this traitorous transfer. But at this
moment a new light broke on James, which quashed these unnatural and
unnational projects: the queen was declared pregnant. The news of
this prospect was received by the public with equal incredulity and
suspicion. The queen had had several children, who had died in their
infancy; and there was nothing improbable in the expectation of another
child, although five years had elapsed since her last confinement. The
prospect of an heir, however, true or false, drove James on further and
more desperate projects. Should a son be born, and live, which none
of the queen's children had done hitherto, the Popish heir would be
exposed to the danger of a long minority. James might die before the
son had been firmly rooted in the Catholic faith, and the Protestant
bishops and nobles would surround him with Protestant instructors, and
most likely ruin all James's plans of perpetuating Popery. To obviate
this, he determined to have an Act of Parliament, settling the form of
the child's guardianship and education, and vesting all the necessary
powers in Catholic hands. Any prudent man would at least have waited
to see the birth and probable life of the child before rushing on so
desperate a scheme; for, to have an Act, he must call a Parliament;
and to call a Parliament in the present feeling of the nation was to
bring together one of the most determinedly Protestant assemblies of
men that had ever been seen. But James was of that mole-eyed, bigot
character which rushed headlong on the most perilous issues. He
determined to pack a Parliament by means which none but a madman would
have attempted. Whether from county or borough, he could expect nothing
but a most obstinate and universal demonstration in favour of the
Church and Constitution. His brother Charles, for his own purposes, had
deprived the towns of their charters, because they were Whig and often
Nonconformist, and had given them others, which put them into the hands
of the Tories and Churchmen, and these were the very men who now would
resist James's plans to the death. The country was equally Church and
Tory, but all this did not daunt James. He determined to remodel the
corporations, and to change every magistrate in the counties that was
not ready to carry out his views. He appointed a Board of Regulators at
Whitehall to examine into the state of the corporations and introduce
new rules and new men as they thought fit. These regulators were seven
in number, and all Catholics and Jesuits, except the king's incarnate
devil, Jeffreys. These men appointed deputations of chosen tools to
visit the different corporations, and report to them; and James issued
a proclamation announcing his intention to revise the commissions of
the peace, and of the lieutenancy of counties. In fact, James proceeded
like a man who was satisfied that he could do just as he pleased with
the Constitution of a country which, through all ages, had shown itself
more jealous of its Constitution than any other in the world.

He sent for the lords-lieutenants, and delivered to them a paper of
instructions, with which they were each to proceed to their several
counties. They were to summon all the magistrates, and tell them what
his Majesty expected from them on the ensuing election of Parliament,
and to send him up their individual answers, along with the list of
all the Catholic and Dissenting gentlemen who might take the place of
those who should dare to object to the king's plans on the bench or in
the militia. The proposal was so audacious, that the greater proportion
of the lords-lieutenants peremptorily refused to undertake any such
commission; these included the noblest names in the peerage, and they
were at once dismissed. The sweeping measure of turning out the Duke
of Somerset, the Viscounts Newport and Falconberg, the Earls of Derby,
Dorset, Shrewsbury, Oxford, Pembroke, Rutland, Bridgewater, Thanet,
Abingdon, Northampton, Scarsdale, Gainsborough, and many others, showed
how far James was gone in his madness. As the king could not get any
noblemen to take the places of the dismissed, he filled them up as he
could, and even made his butcher, Jeffreys, lord-lieutenant of two
counties. But all was in vain; he soon received answers from every
quarter that the whole nation, town and country, absolutely refused to
obey the king's injunctions. Even those who had gone most zealously
to work were obliged to return with most disconsolate reports, and
to assure the king that, if he turned out every magistrate and
militia officer, the next would still vote against Popery. Catholics
and Nonconformists, though glad of indulgence, would not consent to
attempt measures which could only end in defeat and confusion. The
Nonconformists would not move a finger to endanger Protestantism. It
was the same in the corporations. Some of these James could deprive
of their charters, for the new ones frequently contained a power of
revocation; but when he had done this he found himself no forwarder,
for the new ministers upon the points that he had at heart were as
sturdy as the old. Other towns from which he demanded the surrender of
their charters refused. Wherever James could eject the Church members
of corporations he did so, from London to the remotest borough, and put
in Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists. It was perfectly useless;
they were as Protestant as the Church. Even where he obtained a few
truckling officials, they found it impossible to make the people vote
as they wished; and in the counties the Catholic or Dissenting sheriffs
were equally indisposed to press the Government views, or unable to
obtain them if they did. He changed the borough magistrates in some
cases two or three times, but in vain. Some of the people in the towns
did not content themselves with mere passive resistance; they loudly
declared their indignation, and the tyrant marched soldiers in upon
them; but only to hear them exclaim that James was imitating his dear
brother of France, and dragonading the Protestants.

Whilst these things were going on all over the country, James was
putting on the same insane pressure in every public department
of Government. The heads of departments were called on to pledge
themselves to support the wishes of the king, and to demand from their
subordinates the same obedience. The refractory were dismissed, even
to the highest law officers of the Crown; and James demanded from the
judges a declaration that even the Petition of Right could not bar the
exercise of his prerogative; but the bench consulted in secret, and the
result was never known. He even contemplated granting no licences to
inns, beer-houses, or coffee-houses, without an engagement to support
the king, in spite of Church or magistrate; but another of his measures
now brought things to a crisis.

James determined to make his intentions known for fully restoring
Popery by a new Declaration of Indulgence, in which he reminded his
subjects of his determined character, and of the numbers of public
servants that he had already dismissed for opposing his will. This
Declaration he published on the 27th of April, 1688, and he ordered the
clergy to read it from all pulpits in London on the 20th and 27th of
May, and in the country on the 3rd and 10th of June. This was calling
on the bishops and clergy to practise their doctrine of Non-resistance
to some purpose; it was tantamount to demanding from them to co-operate
in the overthrow of their own Church. They were, as may be supposed,
in an awful dilemma; and now was the time for the Dissenters--whom
they had so sharply persecuted and so soundly lectured on the duty of
entire submission--to enjoy their embarrassment. But the Dissenters
were too generous, and had too much in common at stake. They met and
sent deputations to the clergy, and exhorted them to stand manfully for
their faith, declaring that they would stand firmly by them. A meeting
of the metropolitan clergy was called, at which were present Tillotson,
Sherlock, Stillingfleet--great names--and others high in the Church.
They determined not to read the Declaration on the 20th, and sent
round a copy of this resolution through the City, where eighty-five
incumbents immediately signed it.

The bishops meanwhile met at Lambeth, and discussed the same question.
Cartwright of Chester, one of the king's most servile tools, and a
member of the High Commission, took care to be there, to inform the
king of what passed; but during his stay nothing but a disposition to
compliance appeared to prevail, and he hurried away to Whitehall with
the news. No sooner, however, was he gone than letters were secretly
despatched, summoning the bishops of the province of Canterbury; and
another meeting took place on the 18th, or two days prior to the
Sunday fixed for the further reading of the Declaration. The bishops
concluded not to read it, and six of them waited on the king with the
written resolution. James was confounded, having assured himself that
they meant to comply. He used the most menacing language, and declared
that they had set up the standard of rebellion; and ordered them from
his presence to go at once and see that he was obeyed. To prevent the
publication of the resolution, he detained it; but that very evening it
was printed and hawked through the streets, where it was received with
acclamations by the people. Any but a mad bigot, seeing the feelings
of the public, would have instantly revoked the declaration; but James
was not that man. Sunday arrived, and out of all the hundred churches,
the Declaration was only read in four, and with the effect of instantly
clearing them, amid murmurs of indignation. Still it was not too late
to recall the Order in Council; and even James himself, with all his
folly and infatuation, was now staggered. It was strongly recommended
in the Council to abandon the Declaration; but James listened to his
evil genius, the brutal Jeffreys, and determined to bring the seven
signing bishops to trial before the Court of King's Bench, on a charge
of seditious libel. The fatal counsel was adopted, and they were
summoned to appear before the Privy Council on the 8th of June.

In the interval the bishops and clergy in all parts of England, with
few exceptions, showed the same resolute spirit. The Bishops of
Gloucester, Norwich, Salisbury, Winchester, Exeter, and London, signed
copies of the same petition. The Bishop of Carlisle regretted that, not
belonging to the province of Canterbury, he could not do the same. The
Bishop of Worcester refused to distribute the Declaration amongst his
clergy; and the same spirit showed itself amongst the parochial clergy,
who almost to a man refused to read it.

On the evening of the day appointed, the seven prelates--namely,
Sancroft, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Lloyd of St. Asaph, Ken of Bath
and Wells, Turner of Ely, Lake of Chichester, White of Peterborough,
and Trelawney of Bristol--attended the Privy Council. Jeffreys took up
the petition, and, showing it to Sancroft, asked him if that was not
the paper which he had written, and the six bishops present had signed.
Sancroft and his colleagues had been instructed by the ablest lawyers
in England as to the course they should pursue, and the dangers to be
avoided. The Primate, therefore, instead of acknowledging the paper,
turned to the king and said--"Sir, I am called hither as a criminal,
which I never was before; and, since I have that unhappiness, I trust
your Majesty will not be offended if I decline answering questions
which may tend to criminate me." "This is mere chicanery," said James.
"I hope you will not disown your own handwriting." Lloyd of St. Asaph
said that it was agreed by all divines that no man in their situation
was obliged to answer any such question; but, as James still pressed
for an answer, Sancroft observed that, though he were not bound to
accuse himself, yet, if the king commanded it, he would answer, taking
it for granted that his Majesty would not take advantage to bring
his admission there in evidence against him. James said he would not
command him; but Jeffreys told them to withdraw for awhile, and when
they were called back, James commanded the Primate, and he acknowledged
the writing. They were then again sent out, and, on coming back, were
told by Jeffreys that they would be proceeded against, not before the
High Commission, but, "with all fairness," before the King's Bench.

They were then called upon to enter into recognisances, but they
refused, on the plea that they were peers of Parliament, and that no
peer of Parliament could be required to enter into recognisances in
case of libel. This greatly disconcerted James, for it compelled him
to send them to prison, and he justly feared the effect of it on the
public. But there was no alternative; a warrant was signed for their
commitment to the Tower, and they were sent thither in a barge.

The scene which immediately took place showed that James had at length
a glimmering of the danger which he had raised. The whole river was
crowded with wherries full of people, who crowded round the bishops
to entreat their blessings, many rushing breast-high into the water
to come near enough. James, in terror, ordered the garrison and
guards of the Tower to be doubled; but the same spirit animated the
soldiers, who knelt at the approach of the prelates, and also solicited
their blessing. Presently the soldiers were found carousing to the
health of their prisoners; and when Sir Edward Hales, who had been
made Lieutenant of the Tower for his going over to Popery, desired
the officers to put a stop to it, they returned and told him that
it was impossible, for the soldiers would drink nobody's health but
the bishops'. Every day the gates of the Tower were besieged by the
equipages of the chief nobility. The very Nonconformists came in bodies
to condole with their old persecutors; and Tower Hill was one constant
throng of people manifesting their sympathy.

Two days only after the bishops were sent to the Tower--namely, the
10th of June--was announced what, under other circumstances, would
have been a most auspicious event for James--the birth of an heir.
But the nation was so full of suspicion, both of the monarch and the
Jesuits that he had around him, that it would not credit the news that
the healthy boy which was born was the actual child of James and his
queen. It was certainly of the highest moment that James should have
taken every precaution to have the birth verified beyond dispute; but
in this respect he had been as singularly maladroit as in all his
other affairs. As the Protestants were, of course, highly suspicious,
he should have had the usual number of Protestant witnesses ready.
But the queen, who sat playing cards at Whitehall till near midnight,
was suddenly taken ill a month before the calculated time, and there
was neither the Princess Anne present--she was away at Bath,--nor
the Archbishop of Canterbury, nor the Dutch ambassador--whom it was
so necessary to satisfy on behalf of the Prince and Princess of
Orange,--nor any of the Hyde family, not even the Earl of Clarendon,
the uncle of Mary and Anne. On the contrary, there were plenty of
Jesuits, and the renegades Dover, Peterborough, Murray, Sunderland--who
directly afterwards avowed himself a Catholic--Mulgrave, and others.
The consequence was that the whole people declared the child spurious;
that it had been introduced into the bed in a warming-pan; and when
the public announcement was made, and a day of solemn thanksgiving was
appointed, there was no rejoicing. Fireworks were let off by order
of Government; but the night was black and tempestuous, and flashes
of lurid lightning paled the artificial fires, and made the people
only the more firm in the belief that heaven testified against the
imposture. And yet there was no imposture. There were some Protestants
present--sufficient to prevent any collusion, and particularly Dr.
Chamberlain, the eminent accoucheur; but James, by his folly and
tyranny, had deprived himself of the public confidence, and fixed on
his innocent offspring a brand of disavowment, which clung to him and
his fortunes, and has only been removed by the cooler judgment of
recent times. William of Orange sent over Zulestein to congratulate
James on the birth of an heir; but that minister brought back the
account that not one person in ten believed the child to be the queen's.

[Illustration: THE SEVEN BISHOPS ENTERING THE TOWER. (_See p._ 328.)]

On Friday, the 15th of June, the first day of term, the bishops were
brought from the Tower to the King's Bench, and, pleading not guilty,
they were admitted to bail till the 29th of June. During this fortnight
the public excitement continued to augment, and from every quarter of
the kingdom--even from the Presbyterians of Scotland, who had shown
themselves such determined opponents of prelacy, and had been such
sufferers from it--came messages of sympathy and encouragement to
the bishops. On that day immense crowds assembled to receive their
blessings, and to utter others on their way to Westminster Hall; and
this homage was the warmer because the prelates had resisted the demand
of Sir Edward Hales, the Lieutenant of the Tower, for his fees, this
renegade having shown them little courtesy, and now plainly letting
them know that, if they came again into his hands, they should lie on
the bare stones.

Every means had been taken to pack a jury. Sir Samuel Astrey, the Clerk
of the Crown, had been summoned to the palace, and been instructed
by James and his great legal adviser, Jeffreys. The judges, too,
were of the most base and complying character. They were such as had
been raised from the very lowest ranks of the bar for their servile
fitness, and because the more eminent lawyers would not stoop to such
ignominy. They were Wright; Allibone, a Papist; Holloway and Powell;
the Attorney-General, Sir Thomas Powis, an inferior lawyer; the
Solicitor-General, Sir William Williams, a man of ability and vigour,
but rash, imperious, and unpopular. Ranged against these were the most
brilliant lawyers of the time--Sawyer and Finch, formerly Attorney-
and Solicitor-General; Pemberton, formerly Chief Justice; Maynard; Sir
George Treby, who had been Recorder of London, and others. Somers,
afterwards Lord Chancellor in William's reign, was the bishops' junior
counsel. The foreman of the jury was Sir Roger Langley. On the side of
the prosecution, the judges, and even the blustering Jeffreys, betrayed
a sense of terror.

The trial commenced at nine in the morning, and not till seven in the
evening did the jury retire to consider their verdict. The lawyers for
the prisoners raised great difficulties as to proving the handwriting
of the libel, and next in proving its being published in Westminster.
The Crown lawyers were obliged to bring into court Blathwayt, a clerk
of the Privy Council, for this object; and then the counsel for the
prisoners stopped him, and compelled him to state what had passed there
between the bishops and the king--much to the chagrin of the Government
party. Before the publication could be proved, even Sunderland was
obliged to be brought into court in a sedan. He was pale, trembled
violently from fright and shame of his late apostacy, and gave his
evidence with his eyes fixed on the ground. But even then, when the
judges came to consider the bishops' petition, they were divided in
opinion. Wright and Allibone declared it a libel, and contended for the
royal right of the dispensing power; but Holloway conceded that the
petition appeared to him perfectly allowable from subjects to their
sovereign; and Powell set himself right with the public and wrong with
the Court--a significant sign--by boldly declaring both the Dispensing
Power and the Declaration of Indulgence contrary to law.

With such sentiments developing themselves on the bench, there could
be little doubt what the verdict would be; yet the jury sat all night,
from seven o'clock till six the next morning, before they were fully
agreed, there being, however, only three dissentients at first. When
the court met at ten o'clock, the crowd, both within and without, was
crushing and immense; and when the foreman pronounced the words "Not
guilty," Halifax was the first to start up and wave his hat; and such
a shout was sent up as was heard as far as Temple Bar. The news flew
far and wide; the shouting and rejoicing broke out in every quarter of
the town. The whole population, nobility, clergy, people, all seemed
gone mad. There were more than sixty lords who had stood out the trial,
and now threw money amongst the throngs as they drove away. The people
formed a line down to the water's edge, and knelt as the bishops passed
through, asking their blessing. The Attorney-General, Williams, was
pursued in his coach with curses and groans; and Cartwright, the Bishop
of Chester, and James's tool of the High Commission, being descried,
was hooted at as "That wolf in sheep's clothing!" and, as he was a very
fat man, one cried, "Room for the man with the Pope in his belly!"

The whole town was in an intoxication of delight. Bonfires were lit,
guns fired, bells rung all night, and the Pope in effigy was burnt in
several places--one before the door of Whitehall itself; another was
kindled before the door of the Earl of Salisbury, who had lately gone
over to Popery; and his servants, in their ill-timed zeal, rushing out
to extinguish it, were attacked, and, firing on the people, killed
the parish beadle, who was come to attempt what they themselves were
attempting--to put out the fire. That morning James had gone to review
his troops on Hounslow Heath. He received the news of the acquittal
by a special messenger while in Lord Feversham's tent. He was greatly
enraged, and set out at once for London. Before, however, he was clear
of the camp the news had flown amongst the soldiers, and a tremendous
cheering startled him. "What noise is that?" demanded James. "Oh!"
said the general, "it is nothing but the soldiers shouting because the
bishops are acquitted." "And call you that nothing?" asked James; and
added angrily, "but so much the worse for them."

The very day which pronounced the acquittal of the bishops saw signed
and despatched an invitation from the leading Whigs to William
of Orange to come over and drive the tyrant from the throne. The
Whigs had long been contemplating and preparing for this end; they
now saw that the crisis was come. The brutal and besotted king had
effectually alienated all hearts from him. From him nothing but
destruction of every liberty and sentiment that Englishmen held dear
was to be expected; and in the heir which was now, as was generally
believed, foisted on the nation by the king and the Jesuits, there
was only the pledge of the reign of Popery and proscription, and of
the extermination of all those high hopes and privileges which were
entwined with Protestant freedom. The Whig leaders had sent repeatedly
to William to stimulate him to the enterprise; but, apart from his
habitual caution and the salutary fear that Monmouth's reception
had inspired, the Prince of Orange had many difficulties to contend
with from the peculiar constitution of the Dutch Republic, and the
peculiar views and interests of his allies. Though at the head of
the Dutch confederation, he had always experienced much opposition
from individual states and cities, especially Amsterdam, which his
great enemy, Louis of France, managed to influence. This invitation
called him to expel from his throne a Catholic king, and replace his
Government by a Protestant one, though the Pope and Spain, the most
Catholic of countries, were his close allies, and must not be offended.
He had, therefore, stipulated that he should receive such an invitation
under the hands and seals of the Whig leaders as should leave little
doubt of his reception, and that he should be regarded as the saviour
from an intolerable ruler, and not forced to attempt a conquest which
must in its very success bring ruin by wounding the national pride of
England.

He now received a paper, signed by the Earls of Shrewsbury, Devonshire,
and Danby, Lord Lumley, Bishop Compton, Edward Russell, the Admiral of
England, and Henry Sidney, the brother of the late Algernon Sidney,
and afterwards Earl of Romney. This paper, which had been furnished at
William's request, was but the result of negotiations between himself
and the Whig leaders for some time. He now called into council with the
English envoy his confidential friends, Bentinck and Dykvelt, and it
was resolved that the time for action was come, and that the invitation
should be accepted. In the meantime, whilst William began in earnest,
but as secretly as circumstances would allow, his preparations, James
at home did everything which a foolish and obstinate ruler could do to
complete the alienation of the affections of his subjects. He returned
from his camp to his capital only to find it in transports of delight
over his own defeat, and resounding with the explosions of guns and
crackers, with drinkings of the health of the bishops in the streets,
and with the effigy of the Pope blazing before his own gate. So far
from making him pause at the contemplation of the avowed and universal
spirit of his people, he was only the more exasperated, and continued
muttering, "So much the worse for them." He determined to take
summary vengeance on the clergy, on the lawyers who had opposed or
deserted him, on the army, and on the people. He at once promoted Mr.
Solicitor-General Williams, for his unscrupulous conduct on the trial
of the bishops, to a baronetcy, and would have placed so convenient
a man on the bench could he have spared him at the bar. He dismissed
Powell and Holloway; he determined to visit with his vengeance all the
clergy throughout the kingdom who had refused to read the Declaration;
and an order was issued to all the chancellors of the dioceses and the
archdeacons to make a return of them. No matter that they approached
ten thousand in number; if necessary, he would drive them all from
their benefices. The judges on the circuits were ordered to denounce
these refractory clergy, and to speak in the most derogatory terms
of the bishops. He broke up his camp, the soldiers of which had been
intended to overawe the capital, and stand by whilst he destroyed the
national Constitution and the national religion; but had now terrified
and disgusted him by drinking the healths of the liberated bishops.

But all his angry attempts only recoiled on himself, and showed more
clearly than ever that the reins of power were irrecoverably slipping
from his fingers. The spell of royalty--a people's respect--was utterly
broken. The chancellors and archdeacons paid no attention to the order
for reporting their independent brethren; the High Commission met,
and, so far from finding any returns, received a letter from one of
the most truckling of their own body, Sprat, Bishop of Rochester,
resigning his place in the High Commission. If such a man saw the
handwriting on the wall, the warning, they felt, must be imminent, and
they departed in confusion. The judges, on their part, found themselves
deserted on their circuits; nobody but the sheriff and his javelin
men came to meet them, and then went through their duties amid every
sign of indifference to their dignity. They were treated, not as the
high-minded judges of England, but as the base and venal tools of a
most lawless and mischievous monarch. The soldiers were as bold in
their separate quarters as they had been in camp. James thought he
could deal with them separately, and tried the experiment by ordering a
regiment of infantry, which had been raised in the Catholic district of
Staffordshire, to sign an engagement to support him in dispersing all
the rest, or to quit the army. Almost to a man they piled their arms,
and the confounded king was obliged to withdraw the order. But James
had a remedy even for the defection of the army. In Ireland the brutal
and debauched Tyrconnel had been busily engaged in drilling Irish
Celts, and preparing an army so strongly Catholic that he might by this
means carry out the royal design of repealing the Act of Settlement,
and driving the Protestant colonists from their lands. These troops
James sent for, regiment after regiment, and the people of England
saw, with equal indignation and alarm, that their liberties, their
religion, their laws, were to be trodden down, and the kingdom reduced
to a miserable abode of slaves by the wild tribes of the sister island,
vengeful with centuries of unrequited oppressions. This put the climax
to the national resentment, and still more pressing messages were sent
over to William to hasten his approach, and leaders of party in large
numbers contemplated a speedy transit to his standard. It was at this
juncture that the wild genius of Wharton gave vent to the pent-up
feelings of Protestant wrath, by the adaptation of the old Irish tune
of "Lillibullero" to English words.

William, meanwhile, was making strenuous preparations for his
enterprise. He formed a camp at Nimeguen, collecting troops and
artillery from the different fortresses. Twenty-four additional ships
of war were fitted out for service, and arms and accoutrements were
in busy preparation in every manufactory in Holland. He had saved up
unusual funds for him, and had money also pouring in from England and
from the refugee Huguenots, who hoped much from his enterprise in
favour of Protestantism. It was impossible that all this preparation
could escape the attention of other nations, and especially of
the quick-sighted Louis XIV. of France. But William had a ready
answer--that he wanted an extra squadron to go in pursuit of a number
of Algerine corsairs which had made their appearance off the Dutch
coasts. The military preparations were not so easily explained; but
though Louis was satisfied that they were intended against England,
James, blind to his danger, as strongly suspected that they were meant
to operate against France. The only enemies which William had to really
dread were Louis and the Council of Amsterdam, which Louis had so
long influenced to hostility to William, and without whose consent no
expedition could be permitted. But the ambition and the persecuting
bigotry of Louis removed this only difficulty out of William's way
in a manner which looked like the actual work of Providence. The two
points on which Amsterdam was pre-eminently sensitive were trade and
Protestantism. Louis contrived to incense them on both these heads.
His unrelenting persecution of the Huguenots, including also Dutch
Protestants who had settled in France, raised an intense feeling in
Amsterdam, stimulated by the outcries and representations of their
relatives there. To all appeals for tolerance and mercy Louis was
utterly deaf; and whilst this feeling was at its height, he imposed a
heavy duty on the importation of herrings from Holland into France.
Sixty thousand persons in Holland depended on this trade, and the
effect was, therefore, disastrous. In vain did the French envoy, Avaux,
represent these things; Louis continued haughty and inexorable.

[Illustration: VIEW IN THE HAGUE: THE HALL OF THE KNIGHTS IN THE
BINNENHOF.]

These circumstances, in which the pride and bigotry of Louis got the
better of his worldly policy, completed the triumph of William of
Orange. He seized on them to effect a removal of the long-continued
jealousies of the Council of Amsterdam against him. He entered into
negotiations with the leading members of the Council through his
trusty friends Bentinck and Dykvelt, and as they were in the worst of
humours with Louis, the old animosities against William were suffered
to sleep, and he obtained the sanction of the States-General to his
proposed expedition for the release of England from the French and
Catholic influences, and its reception into the confederation of
Protestant nations. Another circumstance just at this crisis occurred
to strengthen all these feelings in Holland and Germany, and to account
for any amount of troops collected at Nimeguen. The aggressions of
Louis had roused and combined all Europe against him. Powers both
Catholic and Protestant had felt themselves compelled to unite in order
to repress his attempts at universal dominion. The King of Spain, the
Emperor of Germany, the King of Sweden had entered into the League of
Augsburg to defend the empire; and to these were added various Italian
princes, with the Pope Innocent XI. himself at their head. Louis had
not hesitated to insult the Pope on various occasions, and now he
saw the pontiff in close coalition with heretic princes to repel his
schemes.

In May of this year died Ferdinand of Bavaria, the Elector of Cologne.
Besides Cologne, the elector possessed the bishoprics of Liége,
Münster, and Hildesheim. In 1672 Louis had endeavoured to secure a
successor to the Elector in the French interest. He therefore proposed
as his coadjutor the Cardinal Furstemberg, Bishop of Strasburg;
and he would have succeeded, but it was necessary, in order to his
choice, that Furstemberg should first resign his bishopric; to this
the Pope, in his hostility to Louis, would not consent; he refused
his dispensation. But now, the Elector having died, the contest was
renewed. Louis again proposed the cardinal; the allies of the League
of Augsburg nominated the Prince Clement of Bavaria, who was elected
and confirmed by the Pope, though a youth of only seventeen years of
age. The allies were equally successful in the bishoprics of Liége,
Münster, and Hildesheim; but the principal fortresses, Bonn, Neutz,
Kaiserswerth, and Rheinberg, were held by the troops of Furstemberg,
and therefore were at the service of France. Louis was, however,
exasperated at the partial defeat of his plans, and complained loudly
of the partiality of the Pope, and began to march troops to the support
of Furstemberg.

But whilst Louis was actually planning a sweeping descent on the German
Empire, in which William of Orange lay pre-eminently in his way, he
was at the same time in danger of a more momentous occurrence--that
of William leaving the way open by sailing for England. If William
should succeed in placing himself on the throne of England, he would
be able to raise a far more formidable opposition to his plans of
aggrandisement than he had ever yet done. Even with his small resources
he had proved a terrible enemy, and had arrayed all Europe against him;
what would he do if he could bring all the powers of England by land
and sea to co-operate with Holland, Spain, Austria, Sweden, and the
Netherlands? The stupidity of James and the offended pride of Louis
saved William in this dilemma, and led Louis to commit on this occasion
the cardinal blunder of his reign.

It was impossible that Louis could be ignorant of what William was
doing. The preparations of ships and troops were indications of a
contemplated attack somewhere. It might be directed to resist the
French on the side of Germany; but other facts equally noticeable
demonstrated that the object was England. Avaux, the French envoy at
the Hague, in the absence of Abbeville, who was on a visit to England,
noticed, in the months of April and May, a swift sailing boat, which
made rapid and frequent passages between England and Rotterdam; and he
noticed that, after every arrival from England, there were closetings
of William and the English Whig leaders at the Hague, especially
Russell. After the birth of the heir-apparent of England, William
despatched Zulestein to London with his professedly warm, though they
could not be very sincere, congratulations on the event; but soon
after, on the escape to the Hague of Rear-Admiral Herbert, who was
supposed to carry the invitation of the leading Whigs to William, the
prince omitted the child's name in the prayers for the royal family of
England, and openly expressed his doubts of his being the real child of
the queen.

These circumstances, the continued activity of the military
preparations, the constant sailings of this mysterious boat, and the
subsequent closetings, with the continual growth of the number of
distinguished English refugees at the Hague, satisfied the French
envoy that a descent on England was certain and nigh at hand. Avaux
not only warned Louis of the imminent danger, but he warned James by
every successive mail from the Hague, through Barillon. Louis took
the alarm. He despatched Bonrepaux to London to arouse James to a due
sense of his peril, and offered to join his fleet with an English one
to prevent the passage of the Dutch armament. He held a powerful body
of troops ready to march to the frontiers of Holland, and ordered Avaux
to announce to the States-General that his master was fully cognisant
of the warlike preparations of the Stadtholder; that he was quite
aware of their destination, and that, as the King of England was his
ally, he should consider the first act of hostility against James as a
declaration of war against himself. He at the same time declared the
Cardinal Furstemberg and the Chapter of Cologne under his protection.
Simultaneously the same message was delivered to the Spanish Governor
of Flanders, and Marshal d'Humières was despatched to take the command
of the French army in that quarter.

This plain declaration fell like a thunderbolt into the midst of the
States-General. There was the utmost evident confusion. A poor and
embarrassed excuse was made, and a courtier sent post haste to fetch
William from Minden, where he was in secret negotiation with the
Elector of Brandenburg. If James took the alarm, and Louis, as was his
intent, went heartily into the coalition to defeat the enterprise,
it must become a most hazardous undertaking, even if it were at all
feasible. But the folly of that most wrong-headed of the Stuarts again
saved the Prince of Orange, and removed the last difficulty out of the
way of his enterprise. James would not believe a word of the warning.
He would not believe that his own daughter would sanction an attempt
at his dethronement. He would not believe that William's armament had
any other object than the King of France himself. He highly resented
the declaration of Louis that there was an alliance between them, as
calculated to alarm his own subjects, especially his Protestant ones.
He received Bonrepaux with cold hauteur in return for his offers of
assistance; and Van Citters, the Dutch ambassador, with proportionate
cordiality, who hastened on the part of the States to assure him that
the French communications were sheer inventions. He gave orders that
all the foreign ministers should be informed that there was no such
league between France and England as Louis had pretended for his own
purposes.

In fact, James was living all this time in the midst of a set of
traitors, who, even to his most confidential minister, Sunderland, had
secretly gone over to William, and were putting him in possession of
every daily thought, word, and intention of their master. Besides the
seven that had signed, and of whom Admiral Russell was already with
William, the Earl of Shrewsbury had fled to him, having mortgaged his
estates and taken forty thousand pounds with him, and offered it to
the prince. The two sons of the Marquis of Winchester, Lord Wiltshire,
and a younger brother; Halifax's son, Lord Eland; Danby's son, Lord
Dumblaine; Lord Lorne, the son of the unfortunate Earl of Argyll;
Lord Mordaunt, Gerard, Earl of Macclesfield, and Admiral Herbert
were already with him. Herbert had been appointed Admiral to the
Dutch fleet, with a pension of six thousand pounds a year. Wildman,
Carstairs, Ferguson, Hume, who had escaped from the Argyll and Monmouth
expeditions, went there; and, whilst the sons of Halifax and Danby
were with William, they themselves, though remaining in England with
Devonshire, Lumley, and others, were sworn to rise in his favour the
moment he landed. But the worst of the unsuspected traitors at his
own Court were the Lords Churchill and Sunderland. James had made
Churchill almost everything that he was; on Sunderland he had heaped
benefits without stint or measure. He had scraped money together
by all possible means; and James did not merely connive at it, he
favoured it. This meanest of creeping things was in the pay of France
to the amount of six thousand pounds per annum; he had a pension from
Ireland of five thousand pounds more; as President of the Council he
occupied the post of Prime Minister, and derived immense emoluments
from fines, forfeitures, pardons, and the like. Rather than lose his
place, he had openly professed Catholicism; but scarcely had he thus
sold his soul for his beloved pelf and power, when he saw as plainly
as any one else that the ground was sliding from under the feet of his
foolish master, and was overwhelmed with consternation. He hastened
again to sell himself to William, on condition that his honours and
property should be secure; and thus had James his very Prime Minister,
his most confidential and trusted servant, at every turn drawing out
all his plans and thoughts, and sending them to his intended invader.
Sunderland's wife was the mistress of Sidney, who was at the Hague;
and, through her, this most contemptible of men sent constantly his
traitorous communications to her paramour, and so to William.

With such snakes in the grass about him, James was completely blinded
to his danger. Churchill and Sunderland persuaded him that there was
no danger from Holland, and inflamed his resentment at what they
called the presumption of Louis. They were completely successful; and
Sunderland, after the establishment of William in England, made a
boast of this detestable conduct. Louis was so much disgusted by the
haughty rejection of his warning, that he himself committed a gross
political error. Instead of preventing the descent on England, and the
aggrandisement of his great opponent William--by far the most important
measure for him--by directly attacking the frontiers of Holland, and
keeping William engaged, in his vexation he abandoned the besotted
James, and made an attack on the German Empire. Dividing his army, one
portion of it, under the Marquis of Boufflers, seized Worms, Mainz,
and Treves; a second, under Humières, made itself master of Bonn; and
a third, under the Duke of Duras and Marshal Vauban, took Philippsburg
by storm. The greater part of the Rhine was at once in Louis's hands,
and great was the triumph in Paris. But not the less was the exultation
of William of Orange; for now, the French army removed, and the mind of
Louis incensed against James, the way was wide open for him to England.

No time was now lost in preparing to depart. A Memorial, professing to
be addressed by the Protestants of England to the States, but supposed
to have been drawn up by Burnet, was published, accompanied by two
declarations in the name of William to the people of England and
Scotland. These latter were the work of the Grand Pensionary Fagel,
but condensed and adapted more to the English taste by Burnet. In the
Memorial the people of England were made to complain of the wholesale
violation of the Constitution and the liberties of his subjects by
James, and of the attempt to fix a false and Popish heir on the nation.
They called on William to come over and vindicate the rights of his
wife, and at the same time to rescue the country of her birth and her
rightful claims from Popery and arbitrary power.

The Declaration to England and Scotland in reply was drawn with
consummate art. William admitted that he had seen with deep concern
the fundamental and continual violations of the laws of the kingdom.
The contempt of Acts of Parliament; the expulsion of just judges from
the bench to make room for the servile instruments of oppression; the
introduction of prohibited persons into both the State and Church, to
the jeopardy of freedom and true religion; the arbitrary treatment
of persons of dignity by the illegal High Commission Court; the
forcible introduction of Papists into the colleges; the removal of
lords-lieutenants, and the destruction of corporations which stood
firmly for the rights and religion of the nation; the attempt to impose
a spurious and Popish issue on the throne, and the equally atrocious
attempt to tread down English liberties by an army of Irish Papists:
for these reasons William declared himself ready to comply with the
prayers of the English people, and to come over with a sufficient force
for his own protection, but with no intention or desire of conquest,
but simply to restore freedom by an independent Parliament, to inquire
into the circumstances attending the birth of the pretended prince, and
to leave everything else to the decision of Parliament and the nation.
He declared that he should endeavour to re-establish the Church of
England and the Church of Scotland, and at the same time to protect the
just rights of other professors of religion willing to live as good
subjects in obedience to the laws.

When copies of these papers were sent to James by his ambassador,
Abbeville, from the Hague, the delusion of the affrighted monarch was
suddenly and rudely dissipated. He gazed on the ominous documents--in
which his subjects invited a foreign prince to take possession of his
throne, and that prince, his son-in-law, accepted the proposal--with
a face from which the colour fled, and with a violently trembling
frame. Fear at once did that which no reason, no accumulation of the
most visible signs of his vanishing popularity could ever effect. He at
once hastened to make every concession. He summoned his Council, and
forwarded a despatch to the Hague, declaring that he regarded the siege
of Philippsburg by Louis as a breach of the Treaty of Nimeguen, and
that he was ready to take the field against him in conjunction with the
forces of Spain and Holland. Before an answer could be received, James
hurried forward the work of retractation. When he looked around him
there was not a power or party that he had not alienated--the Cavaliers
and Tories who fought for his father, and supported his brother through
a thousand arbitrary measures; the Church, the Dissenters, the army,
the navy, the bench, the bar, the whole people, held in constant terror
of being made the abject victims of Popish domination, he had, in his
insane rage for his religion, offended, injured, and alarmed beyond
measure. He now sought to win back the able Halifax; he issued a
proclamation, protesting that he would protect the Church, and maintain
the Act of Uniformity; that Catholics should no longer be admitted
to Parliament or the Council. He sent for the bishops, and asked for
their earnest advice in the restoration of public affairs. He ordered
the restoration of the deposed magistrates and lords-lieutenants;
he reinstated Compton, Bishop of London; he gave back the charter
to the City, and, a few days after, the charters of the provincial
corporations; he immediately abolished the Court of High Commission;
and finally replaced Dr. Hough and the ejected fellows of Magdalen
College in full possession of their house and privileges.

These sweeping concessions showed plainly that the tyrant knew very
well how odious his encroachments had been, and that nothing but
fear could force their abandonment from his ungenerous soul. They
had, therefore, the less effect. There was public rejoicing, indeed,
but it was for the victory over the mean despot, not for gratitude
for concessions which it was felt would be resumed the moment danger
should pass; and this feeling was deepened by an accident. The Bishop
of Winchester was sent down to Oxford to formally reinstate the
principal and fellows of Magdalen, but was as suddenly recalled; and
this event, coupled with a rumour that the Dutch fleet had put to
sea, but was dispersed by a storm and put back, made the people more
firmly conclude that no faith could be reposed in the words of James.
The bishop, it was contended, had been temporarily recalled on urgent
affairs; but the effect remained the same. Still, the City of London
celebrated the recovery of its charter with much rejoicing, and sent
a deputation to express their gratitude to the king. The Dukes of
Somerset, Ormond, and Newcastle, the Marquis of Winchester, the Earls
of Derby, Nottingham, and Danby, and the Bishop of London, declared
their fidelity, and the prelates issued a form of prayer for the safety
and prosperity of the royal family.

[Illustration: WILLIAM OF ORANGE EMBARKING TO JOIN THE "BRILL." (_See
p._ 338.)]

Whilst James was exerting himself to conciliate his subjects, he was
equally industrious in putting the kingdom into a posture of defence.
He made Lord Dartmouth Commander of the Fleet, which consisted of
thirty-seven men-of-war, and seven fire-ships--a naval force inferior
to that of the prince, and, still worse, weak in the principles of
loyalty, though Dartmouth himself might be relied on. His army,
including about six thousand Irish and Scots, amounted to forty
thousand men--more than enough to repel the force of the invaders, had
the hearts of the men been in the cause.

William was compelled to delay his embarkation for more than a week by
tempestuous weather. His fleet, under the command of Herbert, which
was lying off Scheveningen, on the 28th of September, was compelled
to seek shelter in Helvoetsluys. The wind raged furiously till the
15th of October, and public prayers were offered in the churches for
more favourable weather. All attempts to invade England had, since
William of Normandy's enterprise, been notoriously defeated by storms;
and the people became so superstitious on this head that it was found
necessary, under severe penalties, to forbid foreboding language.
On the 16th, the wind abating, William took a solemn leave of the
States-General. He thanked them for their long and devoted support of
him in his endeavours for the independence of Europe, and committed
his wife to their protection whilst he was absent for the same great
object, and the security of the Protestant religion. He declared that
if he died it would be as their servant; if he lived, it would be as
their friend. The Pensionary Fagel, now old and failing, replied with
great emotion; and, amid the tears of most present, William stood like
a stoic, without any visible agitation. The deputies of the principal
towns accompanied him to the water side, and that evening he went on
board his frigate the _Brill_. The next day a public fast was held in
the Hague, with sermons and prayers for the success of the expedition,
and Mary continued to retain her place in the church in public during
the long service from half-past ten in the morning till half-past seven
in the afternoon.

On the afternoon of the 19th the fleet sailed from Helvoetsluys, the
men-of-war, in three divisions, forming a long line out at sea, and the
transports driving before the breeze nearer land. The day was fine, the
wind steady from the south-west; and as the eventful squadron passed
the sandy downs of Scheveningen, the inhabitants of the Hague crowded
them in thousands, and raised acclamations of anticipated success. But
the scene rapidly changed. By ten o'clock at night a furious tempest
was again raging, which dispersed the fleet, sank one ship, damaged
many others, compelled them to throw overboard great quantities of
stores, and destroyed a thousand horses through their being closed down
under hatches. The fleet managed to regain Helvoetsluys, which William
himself reached on the 21st. He refused to go on shore, but sent to the
States for fresh supplies, and busied himself in pushing on his repairs.

The news of this disaster reached England with many aggravations, so
that it was imagined that the expedition would be given up for that
season; and James declared with much satisfaction that it was what he
expected, the Host having been exposed for several days. He seized,
however, the time afforded by this delay to assemble an extraordinary
body, the members of the Privy Council, the peers who were in or near
London, the judges, the law officers of the Crown, the Lord Mayor and
aldermen, the queen-dowager, and two-and-twenty women--some ladies
about the queen, some menials. The Princess Anne was summoned, but
excused herself on account of indisposition. "I have called you
together," said James, "upon a very extraordinary occasion; but
extraordinary diseases must have extraordinary remedies. The malicious
endeavours of my enemies have so poisoned the minds of many of my
subjects, that, by the reports I have from all hands, I have reason
to believe that many do think this son which God has pleased to bless
me with be none of mine, but a supposititious child." The witnesses
were all examined on oath except the queen-dowager, and presented such
a mass of evidence as was undoubtedly complete, and it was enrolled
in chancery and published. But such was the intense prejudice of the
age that it failed to convince the public at large. As Anne was not
present, the Council waited on her with a copy of the evidence, on
which she observed, "My lords, this was not necessary; the king's word
is more to me than all these depositions." Yet her uncle, Clarendon,
assures us that she never mentioned the child but with ridicule, and
only once was heard to call it the Prince of Wales, and that was when
she thought it was dying. Anne, in fact, was devoted to the cause
of the Prince of Orange; and Barillon says that she avoided every
opportunity of convincing herself of what she did not wish to believe.

This singular deed of verification of the child's identity was the
last act of the ministry of Sunderland. His treason had not escaped
observation. A letter of his wife's had been intercepted and shown to
him by the king, in which she was found in close correspondence with
Sidney. He strictly denied all knowledge of it, and did not hesitate to
advert to his wife's _liaison_ with Sidney as sufficiently exculpatory
of himself. For a time he lulled James's suspicions, but they again
revived; and, on the very evening of this extraordinary council, James
sent Middleton and demanded the Seals. To the last Sunderland acted
the part of injured innocence; but was not long in getting away to
the Hague, not, however, in time to join William before his second
embarkation. His office of Secretary to the Southern Department was
given to Middleton, and of Secretary to the Northern Department to
Lord Preston, both Protestants. Petre was dismissed from the Council,
but retained his post as Clerk of the Closet at Whitehall. But all
this did not alter the tone of public feeling. The very day before the
assembling of the extraordinary council, the London mob demolished a
new Catholic chapel; and on the 14th of October, the king's birthday,
there had been no sign of rejoicing, not even the firing of the Tower
guns; but the people reminded one another that it was the anniversary
of the landing of William the Conqueror. Their thoughts were running on
the landing of another William.

On the 1st of November the Prince of Orange again set sail, and this
time with a favourable though strong gale from the east. Besides
the English noblemen and gentlemen whom we have mentioned, including
also Fletcher of Saltoun, William had with him Marshal Schomberg, an
able and experienced general, who was appointed second in command;
Bentinck, Overkirk, and Counts Solmes and Sturm. Herbert was the chief
admiral, much to the chagrin of the Dutch admirals, but very wisely
so determined by William, who well knew the hereditary jealousy of
the Dutch fleet, and the remembered boast and besom of Van Tromp
in England. He resolved that, if they came to conflict with Lord
Dartmouth, it should be English commander against English, or his cause
might receive great prejudice. For twelve hours William drove before
the breeze towards the coasts of Yorkshire, as if intending to land
there; then, suddenly tacking, he stood down the Channel before the
gale. Dartmouth attempted to issue from the mouth of the Thames to
intercept him, but the violent wind which favoured William perfectly
disabled him. His vessels as they came out to sea were driven back
with much damage, compelled to strike yards and top-masts, and to lie
abreast the Longsand; whilst William, leading the way in the _Brill_,
sailed rapidly past with his whole fleet and a crowd of other vessels
that had gathered in his rear, to the amount of nearly seven hundred.
It was twenty-four hours before Dartmouth could give chase, and on the
5th of November William reached Torbay, his real destination.

William took up his quarters in a cottage whilst his troops were
landing, and from its thatched roof waved the flag of Holland, bearing
the significant motto, "I will maintain the Protestant Religion and
the Liberties of England." Burnet was one of the first to congratulate
William on his landing on English soil; and, at the recommendation
of Carstares, the first thing on the complete disembarkation was
to collect the troops, and return public thanks to Heaven for the
successful passage of the armament. The next day William marched in
the direction of Exeter; but the rains continued, and the roads were
foul, so that he made little progress. It was not till the 9th that
he appeared before the city. The people received him with enthusiasm,
but the magistracy shrank back in terror, and Bishop Lamplough and
the dean had fled to warn the king of the invasion. The city was in
utter confusion, and at first shut its gates; but as quickly agreed
to open them, and William was accommodated in the vacated deanery.
But the people of the West had suffered too much from the support
of Monmouth not to have learnt caution. A service was ordered in the
cathedral to return thanks for the safe arrival of the prince; but
the canons absented themselves, and only some of the prebendaries and
choristers attended, and, as soon as Burnet began to read the prince's
declaration, these hurried out as fast as they could. On Sunday, which
was the 11th, Burnet was the only clergyman that could be got to preach
before the prince, and the Dissenters refused the fanatic Ferguson
admittance to their chapel. This extraordinary person, however, who
appears to have been one-third enthusiast and two-thirds knave, called
for a hammer, and exclaiming, "I will take the kingdom of heaven by
storm!" broke open the door, marched to the pulpit with his drawn sword
in his hand, and delivered one of those wild and ill-judged philippics
against the king which did so much mischief in the attempt of Monmouth.

Altogether, so far the cause of William appeared as little promising
as that of Monmouth had done. Notwithstanding the many earnest
entreaties from men of high rank and of various classes--nobles,
bishops, officers of the army and navy,--a week had elapsed, and no
single person of influence had joined him. The people only, as in
Monmouth's case, had crowded about him with shouts of welcome. William
was extremely disappointed and chagrined; he declared that he was
deluded and betrayed, and he vowed that he would re-embark, and leave
those who had called for him to work out their own deliverance, or
receive their due punishment. But on Monday, the 12th, his spirits
were a little cheered by a gentleman of Crediton, named Burrington,
attended by a few followers, joining his standard. This was immediately
followed, however, by the news that Lord Lovelace, with about seventy
of his tenants and neighbours, had been intercepted by the militia at
Cirencester, taken prisoners, and sent to Gloucester Castle. The slow
movement of the disaffected appears to have originated in William's
not having landed in Yorkshire, as was expected, but in the west,
where he was not expected. In the North Lords Delamere and Brandon in
Cheshire, Danby and Lumley in Yorkshire, Devonshire and Chesterfield in
Derbyshire, in Lancashire the Earl of Manchester, in Nottinghamshire
and Lincolnshire Rutland and Stamford, and others were all waiting to
receive him. The very army which had been encamped on Hounslow Heath
was the seat of a secret conspiracy of officers, with Churchill himself
at their head, who kept up constant communication with the club at the
"Rose" tavern in Covent Garden, of which Lord Colchester was president.
But all this concert was paralysed for a time by William's appearance
in so distant a quarter.

But the elements of revolt, which had suffered a momentary shock,
now began to move visibly. The very day that Lord Lovelace was
captured, Lord Colchester marched into Exeter, attended by about
seventy horse, and accompanied by the hero of "Lillibullero," Thomas
Wharton. They were quickly followed by Russell, the son of the Duke of
Bedford, one of the earliest promoters of the revolution, and still
more significantly by the Earl of Abingdon, a staunch Tory, who had
supported James till he saw that nothing but the reign of Popery would
satisfy him. A still more striking defection from the king immediately
followed. Lord Cornbury, the eldest son of the Earl of Clarendon,
pretended to have received orders to march with three regiments of
cavalry stationed at Salisbury Moor, to the enemy in the west. He was a
young man entirely under the influence of Lord Churchill, having been
brought up in the household of his cousin, the Princess Anne, where
Churchill and his wife directed everything; and there can be no doubt
that this movement was the work of Churchill. As the cavalry proceeded
from place to place by a circuitous route to Axminster, the officers
became suspicious, and demanded to see the orders. Cornbury replied
that his orders were to beat up the quarters of the army in the night
near Honiton. The loyal officers, who had received hints that all was
not right, demanded to see the written orders; but Cornbury, who had
none to produce, stole away in the dark with a few followers who were
in the secret, and got to the Dutch camp. His regiment, and that of
the Duke of Berwick, James's own (natural) son, with the exception of
about thirty troops, returned to Salisbury; but the third regiment,
the Duke of St. Albans', followed the colonel, Langton, to Honiton,
where General Talmash received them; and most of the officers and a
hundred and fifty privates declared for the prince, the rest being made
prisoners, but soon afterwards discharged.

The news of this defection of one so near to the king's family
created the greatest consternation in the palace. In his terror James
summoned a military council. He was anxious to receive the assurances
of fidelity from his other officers--as if any assurances, under the
circumstances, anything but leading them against the enemy, could test
the loyalty of these men. He told them that he wished to be satisfied
that there were no more Cornburys amongst them; and that if any had
scruples about fighting for him, he was ready to receive back their
commissions. Of course they protested the most ardent devotion to his
cause, though there was not a man of them that was not already pledged
to desert him. Churchill, recently made a lieutenant-general, and the
Duke of Grafton, the king's nephew, were especially fervid in their
expressions of loyalty; so, too, were Trelawney, smarting secretly over
the persecution of his brother, the Bishop of Bristol, and the savage
Kirke, who, when James had importuned him to turn Papist, had replied
that he "was sorry, but he had already engaged to the Grand Turk that
if he changed his religion he would become a Mussulman." Reassured
by these hollow professions, James gave orders for joining the camp
at Salisbury; but the next morning, before he could set out, he was
waited on by a numerous deputation of lords spiritual and temporal,
with Sancroft at their head, praying that a free Parliament might be
immediately called, and communication opened with the Prince of Orange.

James received the deputation ungraciously. In all his hurried
concessions he had still shown his stubborn spirit by refusing to
give up the Dispensing power; and now, though he declared that what
they asked he passionately desired, he added that he could not call a
Parliament till the Prince of Orange quitted the kingdom. "How," he
asked, "can you have a free Parliament whilst a foreign prince, at the
head of a foreign force, has the power to return a hundred members?" He
then fell foul of the bishops, reminding them that the other day they
refused to avow under their hands their disapproval of the invasion,
on the plea that their vocation was not in politics; and yet here
they were at the very head of a political movement. He charged them
with fomenting the rebellion, and retired, declaring to his courtiers
that he would not concede an atom. He then appointed a council of
five lords--of whom two were Papists, and the third Jeffreys--to keep
order during his absence, sent off the Prince of Wales to Portsmouth
to the care of the Duke of Berwick, the commander, and set out for
Salisbury. He reached his camp on the 19th of November, and ordered a
review the next day at Warminster, of Kirke's division. Churchill and
Kirke were particularly anxious that he should proceed to this review,
and Kirke and Trelawney hastened on to their forces, on pretence of
making the necessary preparations. On the other hand, Count de Roye as
earnestly dissuaded James from going to Warminster. He told him that
the enemy's advanced foot was at Wincanton, and that the position at
Warminster, or even that where they were at Salisbury, was untenable.
James, however, was resolved to go; but the next morning, the 20th,
he was prevented by a violent bleeding at the nose, which continued
unchecked for three days.

[Illustration: WILLIAM OF ORANGE ENTERING EXETER. (_See p._ 339.)]

Scarcely had this impediment occurred when news came that the king's
forces had been attacked at Wincanton, and worsted by some of the
division of General Mackay. James was now assured that, had he gone to
Warminster, he would have been seized by traitors near his person, and
carried off to the enemy's quarters. He was advised to arrest Churchill
and Grafton; but, with his usual imprudence, he refused, and summoned
them along with the other officers to a military council, to decide
whether they should advance or retreat. Feversham, Roye, and Dumbarton
argued for a retreat; Churchill persisted in his recommendation of an
advance to the post at Warminster. The council lasted till midnight,
when Churchill and Grafton, seeing that their advice was not followed,
felt the time was come to throw off the mask, and therefore rode
directly away to the prince's lines. The next morning the discovery
of this desertion filled the camp with consternation, and this was
at its height when it was known that Churchill's brother, a colonel,
Trelawney, Barclay, and about twenty privates had ridden after the
fugitives. It was said that Kirke was gone too, but it was not the
fact; and he was now arrested for having disobeyed orders sent to him
from Salisbury; but he professed such indignation at the desertion of
Churchill and the others, that the shallow-minded king set him again at
liberty. The deserters were received by William with a most gracious
welcome, though Schomberg remarked of Churchill that he was the first
lieutenant-general that he had ever heard of running away from his
colours.

In James's camp all was confusion, suspicion, and dismay. There was
not a man who was sure of his fellow, and the retreat which commenced
more resembled a flight. Numbers who would have fought had they been
led at once to battle, now lost heart, and stole away on all sides. The
news that found its way every hour into the demoralised camp was enough
to ruin any army. From every quarter came tidings of insurrection.
The Earl of Bath, the Governor of Plymouth, had surrendered the place
solemnly to William; Sir Edward Seymour, Sir William Portman, Sir
Francis Warre--men of immense influence in Devon, Somerset, and
Dorset--were already with William at Exeter; a paper had been drawn
up and signed by the leading persons there to stand by the prince,
and, whether he succeeded or whether he fell, never to cease till they
had obtained all the objects in his declaration; Delamere had risen
in Chester, and had reached Manchester on his way south; Danby had
surprised the garrison at York; the town had warmly welcomed him, and a
great number of peers, baronets, and gentlemen were in arms with him.
Devonshire had called together the authorities and people of Derby, and
published his reason for appearing in arms, calling on them to assist
all true men in obtaining a settlement of the public rights in a free
Parliament. At Nottingham he was met by the Earls of Rutland, Stamford,
Manchester, Chesterfield, and the Lords Cholmondeley and Grey de Ruthyn.

These were tidings of a reaction as determined as James's headstrong
career had been; but the worst had not yet overtaken him. On the
evening of November 24th he had retreated towards London as far as
Andover. Prince George of Denmark, the husband of the Princess Anne,
and the Duke of Ormond, supped with him. Prince George was a remarkably
stupid personage, whose constant reply to any news was, "Est-il
possible?" When the intelligence of one desertion after another came he
had exclaimed, "Est-il possible?" But the moment supper was over and
the king gone to bed, Prince George and Ormond rode off to the enemy
too. When James the next morning was informed of this mortifying news,
he coolly replied, "What! Is 'Est-il possible' gone too? Were he not my
son-in-law, a single trooper would have been a greater loss." With the
prince and Ormond had also fled Lord Drumlanrig, the eldest son of the
Duke of Queensberry, Mr. Boyle, Sir George Hewit, and other persons of
distinction. The blow was severe; and though James at the first moment,
being stunned, as it were, seemed to bear it with indifference, he
pursued his way to London in a state of intense exasperation. There the
first news that met him was the flight of his own daughter Anne. Anne
was bound up, soul and body, with the Churchills, and it had no doubt
been for some time settled amongst them that they should all get away
to the prince her brother-in-law.

It was towards evening of the same day that Anne fled that James
arrived at Whitehall, agitated by the awful desertions of his highest
officers and his nearest relatives. This announcement put the climax
to his torture. He exclaimed, "God help me! My very children have
forsaken me." Severe as the punishment of his desperate treason against
his people deserved to be, this certainly was a cruel fate. For some
days a lady near his person records that she thought she saw in him
occasional aberrations of intellect. That night he sat late in council,
and it was urged on him to call together such peers and prelates as
were in London to consult on the necessary steps in this crisis. The
next day came together nearly fifty peers and bishops, and James asked
their advice as to calling a Parliament. On this head there appeared
no difference of opinion; but Halifax, Nottingham, and others, urged
with equal earnestness that all Catholics should be dismissed from
office, and a general amnesty published for all in arms against him.
James assented to the calling a Parliament, but his eyes were still
not opened to the folly of his past conduct, and he would give no
assurance of dismissing the Papists, and broke out into vehement
language at the proposal to pardon his enemies. "My lords," he said,
"you are wonderfully anxious for the safety of my enemies, but none
of you troubles himself about my safety." And he vowed that he would
yet take vengeance on those who had deserted him, and, above all, on
Churchill. Clarendon, who was on the eve of running off to William,
took the opportunity to utter the bitter feelings which his dismissal
from the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland to make way for Tyrconnel had no
doubt long left in his mind. He upbraided James with his dogged and
incurable Popery, with sacrificing everybody and everything for it;
declaring that, even at that moment, James was raising a regiment from
which Protestants were rigorously excluded. He taunted him with running
away from the enemy, and asked him who was likely to fight for him when
he himself was the first to flee.

After this severe treatment by his closest connections, James
appeared to comply with the advice of the lords. He sent for Halifax,
Nottingham, and Godolphin, and informed them that he had appointed
them Commissioners to treat with William. He dismissed Sir Edward
Hales from the Tower, and placed Bevil Skelton, a Protestant, there.
But the nature or the intention of this most obtuse of bigots was by
no means changed; he was internally as determined as ever to reverse
every concession on the first possible occasion. Barillon tells us that
he assured him that all this was a mere feint; that he only sent the
Commissioners to William in order to gain time for sending his wife and
child into France; that as to calling a Parliament, that would only
be to put himself into their power, and compel him to submit to their
conditions; that he had no faith in his troops, except the Irish; none
of the rest would fight for him; and, therefore, as soon as the queen
and young prince were safe, he should get away to Ireland, Scotland,
or France, and await the turn of events. Such was the utterly hopeless
character of the Stuart race!

To clear the way for the escape of the royal infant, Lord Dover was
put in command at Portsmouth, and James sent orders to Lord Dartmouth
to see that the child was safely conveyed to the French coast. In
anticipation of the accomplishment of this object, he made every
preparation for his own flight. He sent to Jeffreys to bring the Great
Seal, and take up his quarters with it in the palace, lest by any
means it should fall into the hands of the invader, and thus give an
air of authority to his proceedings. But his escape was delayed by
unpleasant news from Lord Dartmouth. The announcement of the calling
of a Parliament, and of attempted agreement with the Prince of Orange,
had spread exultation through the navy, and the officers had despatched
an address of fervent thanks to James, when the arrival of the infant
prince awoke a general suspicion that all was still hollow, and that
James meant nothing but escape. The officers were in great agitation,
and plainly pointed out to Dartmouth his heavy responsibility if he
allowed the prince to quit the kingdom. Dartmouth, therefore, wrote
James, declaring that he would risk his life for the support of the
Crown, but that he dared not undertake to facilitate the escape of the
Prince of Wales. This was confounding news, and James took instant
measures for the return of his son to London, and for his escape by
another means to France.

Meanwhile William was gradually advancing towards the capital, and, on
the 6th of December, the king's Commissioners met him at Hungerford,
where they found the Earls of Clarendon and Oxford already swelling
the Court of the invader. They were received with much respect, and
submitted their master's proposal that all matters in dispute should be
referred to the Parliament for which the writs were ordered, and that,
in the meantime, the Dutch army should not advance nearer than forty
miles from London. The Whigs in William's Court were decidedly averse
from reconciliation with James, whose implacable nature they knew; but
William insisted on acceding to the terms, on condition that the royal
forces should remove the same distance from the capital, and that the
Tower of London and Tilbury Fort should be put into the keeping of
the City authorities. If it were necessary for the king and prince to
proceed to Westminster during the negotiations, they should go attended
only by a small guard. Nothing could be fairer; but William knew well
the character of his father-in-law, and felt assured that he would
by some means shuffle out of the agreement, and throw the odium of
failure on himself; and he was not deceived. Never had James so fair an
opportunity of recovering his position and securing his throne, under
constitutional restraints, for his life; but he was totally incapable
of such wisdom and honesty.

On the very day that the royal Commissioners reached William's camp,
James received the Prince of Wales back from Portsmouth, and prepared
to send him off to France by another route. On the night of the 10th of
December he sent the queen across the Thames in darkness and tempest,
disguised as an Italian lady, and attended by two Italian women, one of
whom was the child's nurse, and the other carried the boy in her arms.
They were guarded by two French refugees of distinction--Antonine,
Count of Lauzun, and his friend Saint Victor. They arrived safely at
Gravesend, where a yacht awaited them, on board of which were Lord and
Lady Powis. Saint Victor returned to inform James that they had got
clear off, and in a few hours they were safely in Calais.

Scarcely did Saint Victor bring the cheering news of the auspicious
sailing of the yacht, when the Commissioners arrived with the
conditions that had been agreed on by William. Here was the guarantee
for a speedy adjustment of all his difficulties; but the false and
distorted-minded James only saw in the circumstance a wretched means
of further deceit and contempt of his people and of all honourable
negotiation. He pretended to be highly satisfied, summoned for the
morrow a meeting of all the peers in town, and of the Lord Mayor
and aldermen, and directed that they should deliberate freely and
decide firmly for the good of the country. This done, he retired to
rest, ordered Jeffreys to be with him early in the morning, said to
Lord Mulgrave, as he bade him good night, that the news from William
was most satisfactory, and, before morning, had secretly decamped,
leaving his kingdom to take care of itself rather than condescend to a
pacification with his son-in-law and his subjects, which should compel
him to rule as a constitutional king.

But James was not satisfied with this contemptible conduct; he indulged
himself before going with creating all the confusion that he could.
Had the writs, which were preparing, been left for issue on the 15th
of January, 1689, a new Parliament would be in existence, ready to
settle the necessary measures for future Government; he therefore
collected the writs and threw them into the fire with his own hands,
and annulled a number which were already gone out, by an instrument for
the purpose. He also left a letter for Lord Feversham, announcing his
departure from the kingdom, and desiring him no longer to expose the
lives of himself and his soldiers "by resistance to a foreign army and
a poisoned nation;" then, taking the Great Seal in his hand, he bade
the Earl of Northumberland, who was the Lord of the Bedchamber on duty,
and lay on a pallet bed in the king's room, not to unlock the door
till the usual hour in the morning, and then, disguised as a country
gentleman, disappeared down the back stairs. He was waited for by Sir
Edward Hales, whom he afterwards created Earl of Tenterden, and they
proceeded in a hackney-coach to Millbank, where they crossed the river
in a boat to Vauxhall. When in mid-stream, he flung the Great Seal into
the water, trusting that it would never be seen any more; but it was
afterwards dragged up by a fishing-net. James, attended by Hales and
Sheldon, one of the royal equerries, drove at a rapid pace for Elmley
Ferry, near the Isle of Sheppey, having relays of horse ready engaged.
They reached that place at ten in the morning, and got on board the
Custom House hoy which was waiting for them, and dropped down the river.

[Illustration: JAMES HEARING OF THE LANDING OF WILLIAM OF ORANGE.
(_After the Painting by E. M. Ward, R.A._)]

In the morning, when the Duke of Northumberland opened the king's
chamber door, and it was discovered that James had fled, the
consternation in the palace may be imagined. The courtiers and the
numbers of persons who were waiting to fulfil their morning duties,
and the lords who had been summoned to council, spread the exciting
tidings, and the capital became a scene of the wildest and most
alarming confusion. Feversham obeyed the orders of the king left in
his letter, without pausing to ask any advice, or to calculate what
might be the consequences. These were as serious as might have been
expected. There was no Government, no constituted authority to appeal
to. Lord Rochester had continued loyal to the last; but the base
desertion of James and the imminent danger at once decided him. He
bade the Duke of Northumberland muster the Guards, and declare for
William. The officers of the other regiments in London followed the
advice, and endeavoured to keep together their men, declaring for the
Prince of Orange. The lords who had been summoned to Council hastened
into the City to concert measures with the Lord Mayor and aldermen for
the public safety. A meeting was hastily called in Guildhall, where
the peers, twenty-five in number, and five bishops, with Sancroft and
the new Archbishop of York at their head, formed themselves into a
provisional council to exercise the functions of Government till the
Prince of Orange should arrive, for whom they sent a pressing message,
praying him to hasten and unite with them for the preservation of
the Constitution and the security of the Church. The two Secretaries
of State were sent for, but Preston alone came; Middleton denied the
authority of the self-created Council. The Lieutenant of the Tower,
Bevil Skelton, was ordered to give up the keys to Lord Lucas, and an
order was sent to Lord Dartmouth, desiring him to dismiss all Popish
officers from the fleet, and attempt nothing against the Dutch fleet.
But no measures could prevent the outbreak of the mob in London. The
feeling against the Catholics displayed itself on all sides. Under
pretence of searching for Papists, the hordes of blackguards from
every low purlieu of London swarmed forth and broke into houses, and
plundered them at their pleasure. The vile Jeffreys was with difficulty
saved from the fury of the mob.

James, his heartless master, was also seized. The Custom House hoy in
which he embarked was found wanting in ballast, and the captain was
obliged to run her ashore near Sheerness. About eleven at night on the
12th of December, before the hoy could be floated again by the tide,
she was boarded by a number of fishermen who were on the look-out for
fugitives, and the appearance of the king immediately attracted their
notice. "That is Father Petre," cried one fellow; "I know him by his
hatchet face." James was immediately seized and searched; but, though
he had his coronation ring in his pocket, besides other jewels, they
missed them, and did not recognise him. They carried him ashore at
Feversham, where, at the inn, amid the insults of this rabble, he
declared himself their king. The Earl of Winchelsea, hearing of the
king's detention, hastened to his assistance, had him removed to the
house of the Mayor, and sent word of his capture to London.

When the countryman who carried the messages from Lord Winchelsea
arrived at Whitehall, the news of the king's detention occasioned the
greatest embarrassment. The lords had sent for William, and hoped
that they were well rid of the foolish king. Nothing could have been
easier than their course if James had got over to the Continent.
The throne would be declared vacant, and the Prince and Princess of
Orange invited to occupy it, on giving the necessary guarantees for
the maintenance of the Constitution. But now the whole question was
involved in difficulties. If James persisted in his right to the
throne, in what capacity was William to be received? Could any safe
measures be arranged with a man like James? Was he to be deposed,
and his son-in-law and daughter forcibly placed on his throne? The
dilemma was equally embarrassing to the lords and prelates, and to
the prince himself. When the messenger was introduced, and delivered
a letter from James, but without any address, Halifax moved that they
should instantly adjourn, and thus leave the letter unnoticed. Halifax
was deeply incensed at the trick which James had played off upon him
in sending him to negotiate with William merely that he might get
away, and was now resolved to adhere to the prince; but Lord Mulgrave
prevailed on the lords to retain their seats, and obtained from them
an order that Lord Feversham should take two hundred Life Guards, and
protect the king from insult. Feversham demanded the precise powers of
his order, and was told that he must defend the king from insult, but
by no means impede the freest exercise of his personal freedom. This
meant that they would be glad if he facilitated his escape. Halifax
immediately left London, and joined the Prince of Orange, who was now
at Henley-on-Thames. Sancroft and the clergy, as soon as they were
aware that the king had not left the country, retired from any further
participation in the Council. William and his adherents were extremely
chagrined at this untoward turn of affairs. When the messenger arrived
at Henley he was referred to Burnet, who said, "Why did you not let the
king go?"

But when Feversham arrived at the town whose name he bore, the king
was no longer disposed to escape. His friends who had gathered about
him, Middleton and Lord Winchelsea especially, had endeavoured to show
him that his strength lay in remaining. Had he vacated the throne by
quitting the kingdom, it had been lost for ever; but now he was king,
and might challenge his right; and the prince could not dispossess
him without incurring the character of a usurper, and throwing a
heavy odium of unnatural severity on himself and his wife. James had
sufficient mind left to perceive the strength thus pointed out to him.
He resolved to return to his capital, and from Rochester despatched
Feversham with a letter to William, whom he found advanced to Windsor,
proposing a conference in London, where St. James's should be prepared
for the prince. By this time William and his Council had determined on
the plan to be pursued in the great difficulty. He had calculated on
James's being gone, and had issued orders to the king's army and to the
lords at Whitehall in the style of a sovereign. His leading adherents
had settled amongst themselves the different offices that they were to
occupy as the reward of their adhesion. It was resolved, therefore,
if possible, to frighten James into a second flight. No sooner had
Feversham delivered his despatch than he was arrested, and thrown into
the Round Tower on the charge of having disbanded the army without
proper orders, to the danger of the capital, and of having entered the
prince's camp without a passport. Zulestein was despatched to inform
James that William declined the proposed conference, and recommended
him to remain at Rochester.

James, however, was now bent on returning to London. He had not waited
for the prince's answer, but on Sunday, the 16th of December, he
entered his capital in a sort of triumphal procession. He was preceded
by a number of gentlemen, bareheaded. Immense crowds assembled as if
to welcome him back again. They cheered him as he rode along. The
bells were rung, and bonfires were lit in the streets. Elated by these
signs, as he imagined them, of returning popularity, he no sooner
reached Whitehall than he called around him the Jesuits who had hidden
themselves, stationed Irish soldiers as guards around his palace, had
grace said at his table by a Jesuit priest, and expressed his high
indignation at the lords and prelates who had presumed to usurp his
functions in his absence--who had, in fact, saved the capital from
destruction when he had abandoned it. His folly, however, received an
abrupt check. Zulestein was announced, and delivered the stern message
of William. James was confounded, but again repeated his invitation
for his nephew to come to town, that they might settle all differences
in a personal conference. Zulestein coldly assured him that William
would not enter London whilst it contained troops not under his orders.
"Then," said James, "let him bring his own guards, and I will dismiss
mine, for I am as well without any as such that I dare not trust."
Zulestein, however, retired without further discussion, and the moment
he was gone, James was informed of the arrest of Feversham.

Alarmed at these proofs of the stern spirit of William, James sent in
haste to Stamps and Lewis, the leading members of the City Council--the
Lord Mayor had never recovered his terror of Jeffreys' presence,--to
offer to place himself under their protection till all necessary
guarantees for the public liberties had been given and accepted. But
the Common Council had not had time to forget his seizure of their
charter, and they prudently declined to enter into an engagement which,
they said, they might not be able to fulfil. Whilst James was thus
learning that though the City acclamations might be proofs of regret
for his misfortunes, they were by no means proofs of a desire for his
continuing to reign, William, on the same day, the 17th, bade all
his leading adherents hold a solemn council, to consider what steps
should be taken in this crisis. It was understood that he would never
consent to enter London whilst James was there, and it was resolved
that he should be removed to Ham House, near Richmond, which the
brutal Lauderdale had built out of the bribes of Louis XIV. and the
money wrung from the ravaged people of Scotland. Halifax, Shrewsbury,
and Delamere were despatched to James with this intimation, though
Clarendon had done all in his power to have James seized and confined
in some foreign fortress till Tyrconnel surrendered Ireland to the
prince's party.

Simultaneously with the three lords, William ordered his forces to
advance towards London. In the evening of the 17th James heard that the
Dutch soldiers had occupied Chelsea and Kennington. By ten o'clock at
night Solmes, at the head of three battalions of infantry, was already
making across St. James's Park, and sent word that his orders were to
occupy Whitehall, and he advised the Earl of Craven, who commanded
the Coldstream Guards, to retire. Craven--though now in his eightieth
year, was still possessed of the courage and chivalry which he had
displayed in the wars of Germany, and which had won him the heart of
Elizabeth of Bohemia, who was said to be married to him--declared
that, so long as he retained life, no foreign prince should make a
King of England a prisoner in his own palace. James, however, ordered
him to retire. The Coldstream Guards withdrew, and the Dutch guards
surrounded the palace. James, as if there were no danger to his person,
went composedly to bed, but only to be roused out of his first sleep
to receive the deputation from the prince. On reading the letter
proposing his removal to Ham, which Halifax informed him must be done
before ten o'clock in the morning, James seems to have taken a final
resolve to get away. He protested against going to Ham, as a low, damp
place in winter, but offered to retire to Rochester. This was a pretty
clear indication of his intention to flee--the very object desired. A
messenger was despatched in all speed to the prince, who returned with
his full approbation before daybreak.

The morning of the 18th was miserably wet and stormy, but a barge
was brought to Whitehall Stairs, and the wretched monarch went on
board, attended by the Lords Arran, Dumbarton, Dundee, Lichfield,
and Aylesbury. The spectators could not behold this melancholy
abdication--for such it was--of the last potentate of a most unwise
line, who had lost a great empire by his incurable infatuation,
without tears. Even Shrewsbury and Delamere showed much emotion,
and endeavoured to soothe the fallen king; but Halifax, incurably
wounded in his diplomatic pride by the hollow mission to the prince
at Hungerford, stood coldly apart. Boats containing a hundred Dutch
soldiers surrounded his barge as it dropped down the river. James
landed and slept at Gravesend, and then proceeded to Rochester, where
he remained four days.

Though his advisers entreated him not to fly, James had now sunk the
last manly feeling of a monarch who would dare much and sacrifice more
to retain a noble empire for his family. A dastardly fear that if he
remained he would be put to death like his father took possession
of him. He made a last offer to the bishops, through the Bishop of
Winchester, as he had done to the City of London, to put himself into
their hands for safety, but they also declined the responsibility, and
he then gave all over as lost. On the evening of the 22nd of December
he sat down before supper, and wrote a declaration of his motives for
quitting the kingdom. About midnight he stole quietly away with the
Duke of Berwick, his natural son, and, after much difficulty, through
storm and darkness, reached a fishing smack hired for the purpose,
which, on Christmas Day, landed him at Ambleteuse, on the coast of
France. Thence he hastened to the castle of St. Germains, which Louis
had appointed for his residence, and where, on the 28th, he found his
wife and child awaiting him. Louis also was there to receive him, had
settled on him a revenue of forty-five thousand pounds sterling yearly,
besides giving him ten thousand pounds for immediate wants. The conduct
of Louis was truly princely, not only in thus conferring on the fallen
monarch a noble and delightful residence, with an ample income, but in
making it felt by his courtiers and all France, that he expected the
exiled family to be treated with the respect due to the sovereigns of
England.

The flight of James had removed the great difficulty of William--that
of having recourse to some measure of harshness towards him, as
imprisonment, or forcible deposition and banishment, which would have
greatly lowered his popularity. The adherents of James felt all this,
and were confounded at the advantage which the impolitic monarch had
given to his enemies. The joy of William's partisans was great and
unconcealed. In France the success of William was beheld with intense
mortification, for it was the death-blow to the ascendency of Louis
in Europe, which had been the great object of all his wars, and the
expensive policy of his whole life. In Holland the elevation of their
Stadtholder to the head of the English realm was beheld as the greatest
triumph of their nation; and Dykvelt and Nicholas Witsen were deputed
to wait on him in London and congratulate him on his brilliant success.
But, notwithstanding all these favourable circumstances, there were
many knotty questions to be settled before William could be recognised
as sovereign. The country was divided into various parties, one of
which, including the Tories and the Church, contended that no power
or law could affect the divine right of kings; and that although a
king by his infamy, imbecility, or open violation of the laws might be
restrained from exercising the regal functions personally, those rights
remained untouched, and must be invested for the time in a regent
chosen by the united Parliament of the nation. Others contended that
James's unconstitutional conduct and subsequent flight amounted to an
abdication, and that the royal rights had passed on to the next heir;
and the only question was, which was the true heir--the daughter of
James, the wife of William, or the child called the Prince of Wales?
The more determined Whigs contended that the arbitrary conduct of the
House of Stuart, and especially of James, who attempted to destroy both
the Constitution and the Church, had abrogated the original compact
between prince and people, and returned the right of electing a new
monarch into the hands of the people; and the only question was, who
should that choice be? There were not wanting some who advised William
boldly to assume the crown by right of conquest; but he was much too
wise to adopt this counsel, having already pledged himself to the
contrary in his Declaration, and also knowing how repugnant such an
assumption would be to the proud spirit of the nation.

To settle these points he called together, on the 23rd of December,
the peers, all the members of any Parliament summoned in the reign
of Charles II. who happened to be in town, and the Lord Mayor and
aldermen, with fifty other citizens of London, at St. James's,
to advise him as to the best mode of fulfilling the terms of his
Declaration. The two Houses, thus singularly constituted, proceeded to
deliberate on the great question in their own separate apartments. The
Lords chose Halifax as their Speaker; the Commons, Henry Powle. The
Lords came to the conclusion that a Convention was the only authority
which could determine the necessary measures; that in the absence
of Charles II. a Convention had called him back to the throne, and
therefore a Convention in the absence of James might exercise the same
legitimate function. When the Lords presented an address to this effect
on the 25th, William received it, but said it would be necessary to
receive the conclusion of the Commons before any act could take place.
On the 27th the Commons came to the same decision, and William was
requested to exercise the powers of the executive till the Convention
should assemble.

In issuing orders for the election of the members of the Convention,
William displayed a most politic attention to the spirit of the
Constitution. He gave direction that no compulsion or acts of undue
persuasion should be exercised for the return of candidates; no
soldiers should be allowed to be present in the boroughs where the
elections were proceeding; for, unlike James, William knew that he had
the sense of the majority of the people with him. The same measure was
adopted with regard to Scotland. There, no sooner had William arrived
in England, than the people rose against James's Popish ministers,
who were glad to flee or conceal themselves. Perth, the miserable
renegade and tyrant, endeavoured to escape by sea; he was overtaken,
brought ignominiously back, and flung into the prison of Kirkcaldy. The
Papists were everywhere disarmed, the Popish chapels were attacked
and ransacked. Holyrood House, which swarmed with Jesuits, and with
their printing presses, was not exempt from this summary visitation;
and bonfires were made of all sorts of Popish paraphernalia--crosses,
books, images, and pictures. William now called together such Scottish
noblemen and gentlemen as were in London, who adopted a resolution
requesting him to call a Convention of the Estates of Scotland, to meet
on the 14th of March, and in the meantime to take on himself the same
executive authority as in England. William was, therefore, the elected
ruler of the whole kingdom for the time. This power he proceeded to
exercise with a prudence and wisdom which were in striking contrast to
the antagonism of James. All parties and religions were protected as
subjects; Feversham was released, and the administration of justice
proceeded with a sense of firmness and personal security which gave
general confidence.

On the 22nd of January, 1689, the Convention met. The Lords again chose
Halifax as Speaker, the Commons, Powle. The Catholic lords had not
been summoned, and were not there. In the Lords, Bishop Sherlock and
a small knot of Tories were for recalling James, and attempting the
impossible thing of binding him to the Constitution; another party, of
which Sancroft was known to be the head, though he had not the courage
to go there and advocate it, were for a regency; whilst Danby contended
for proclaiming the Princess Mary in her own right; and the Whigs were
for nominating William as an elective prince. In the Commons, similar
parties appeared; but the great majority were for declaring the throne
vacant, and, on the 28th, they passed a resolution to that effect, and
the next day another, that no Popish king could possess the throne.
These carried up to the Lords were, after a debate of two days, also
adopted, but only by small majorities.

James now sent a letter to each House, declaring that he had not
abdicated, but had been compelled to withdraw by necessity; and he
offered to return and redress every grievance. Both Houses refused
to receive the letters; but in both the question as to who should be
the successor to the throne was violently debated. Lord Lovelace and
William Killigrew presented a petition to the Commons, demanding that
the crown should be given to the Prince and Princess of Orange jointly.
A member asked if the petition were signed, and Lovelace replied "No,"
but added that he would soon procure signatures enough. In fact,
there were noisy crowds about the House; and Lovelace was suspected of
having brought the mob from the City to intimidate the opponents. His
proceedings were strongly protested against, and William himself sent
for him and expressed his disapprobation of bringing any such influence
to force the deliberations of the Convention. The Earl of Devonshire
then gathered a meeting of the advocates of the prince and princess
at his house, where the question was discussed, and where Halifax
concluded for William and Danby for Mary. To obtain, if possible, some
idea of the leaning of William, who had preserved the most profound
silence during the debates, Danby put the question to a friend and
countryman of William's present what was the real wish of William.
He replied that it was not for him to say, but that, if he must give
an opinion, he did not believe that the prince would consent to be
gentleman-usher to his wife. This opened the eyes of Danby, who said,
"Then you all know enough, and I far too much." In fact, blind must all
have been who had studied the character of William not to have seen
from the first that he came there to be king, and that on equal terms
at least with his wife. The man who had for years brooded in jealous
secrecy over the idea that his wife would one day be raised over his
own head by her claim on the British crown, was not likely to accept
less than an equal throne with her.

Whilst this question was still agitating both Houses, Mary herself
settled it by a letter to Danby, in which she thanked him for his zeal
in her behalf; she declared that she was the wife of William, and had
long resolved, if the throne fell to her, to surrender her power, by
consent of Parliament, into his hands. This was decisive, and the
enemies of William had only the hope left that the Princess Anne might
protest against William, and insist on the precedence of her rights and
those of her issue. But Anne had long been perfectly accordant with
William and Mary, and declared herself entirely willing that William
should hold the throne for his life.

Mary and Anne having spoken out, William now sent for Halifax, Danby,
Shrewsbury, and the other leaders, and told them that, having come
for the good of the nation, he had thought it right to leave the
nation to settle its election of a ruler, and that he had still no
desire to interfere, except to clear their way so far as he himself
was concerned. He wished therefore to say that, if they decided to
appoint a regent, he declined to be that man. On the other hand, if
they preferred placing the princess, his wife, on the throne, he had
nothing to object; but if they offered to give him during his life the
nominal title of king, he could not accept it; that no man respected or
esteemed the princess more than he did, but that he could never consent
to be tied to the apronstrings of any woman, even the very highest and
best of her sex; that if they chose to offer him the crown for life,
he would freely accept it; if not, he would return cheerfully to his
own country, having done that which he had promised. He added that
he thought, in any case, the rights of Anne and her issue should be
carefully protected.

This left no doubt as to what must be the result. A second conference
was held on the 5th of February between the two Houses, where the
contest was again renewed as to whether the throne was actually vacant,
and they parted without coming to any agreement; but the Lords, on
returning to their own House, yielded, and sent down to the Commons
the new oaths, and the resolution that the prince and princess should
be declared king and queen. The Commons, who had already come to
this conclusion, would not, however, formally pass it till they had
taken measures for securing the rights of the subject before finally
conferring the crown. They therefore drew up what was called the
"Declaration of Rights," by which, while calling William and Mary to
the throne, they enumerated the constitutional principles on which
the crown should be held. This Declaration was passed on the 12th of
February, and about a year afterwards was formally enacted, under the
title of the "Bill of Rights," which contains the great charter of the
liberties of the English people.

The Declaration stated that, whereas the late king, James II., had
assumed and exercised a power of dispensing with and suspending laws
without consent of Parliament, and had committed and prosecuted
certain prelates because they had refused to concur in such arbitrary
powers; had erected an illegal tribunal to oppress the Church and the
subject; had levied taxes, and maintained a standing army in time of
peace without consent of Parliament; had quartered soldiers contrary
to law; had armed and employed Papists contrary to law; had violated
the freedom of election, and prosecuted persons in the King's Bench
for causes only cognisable by Parliament; and whereas, besides these,
the personal acts of the late king, partial and corrupt juries had
been returned, excessive fines had been imposed, illegal and cruel
punishments inflicted, the estates of persons granted away before
forfeiture or judgment; all these practices being utterly contrary to
the known laws, statutes, and freedom of the realm:

And whereas the said king, having abdicated the throne, and the Prince
of Orange, who under God had delivered the realm from this tyranny, had
invited the estates of the realm to meet and secure the religion and
freedom of the kingdom; therefore, the Lords spiritual and temporal,
and the Commons in Parliament assembled, did, for the vindication
and assertion of their ancient rights, declare--That to suspend the
execution of the laws, or to dispense with the execution of laws by
regal authority without consent of Parliament, that to erect boards of
commissioners, and levy money without Parliament, to keep a standing
army in time of peace without the will of Parliament, are all contrary
to law; that the election of members of Parliament ought to be free,
speech in Parliament free, and to be impeached nowhere else; no
excessive bail, or excessive fines, nor cruel or unjust punishments can
be awarded; that jurors ought to be duly impanelled, and, in trials for
high treason, be freeholders; that grants and promises of fines before
conviction are illegal and void; and that, for redress of grievances
and the amendment of laws, Parliaments ought to be frequently held. All
these things are claimed by the Declaration as the undoubted rights and
inheritance of Englishmen; and, believing that William and Mary, Prince
and Princess of Orange, will preserve from violation all these rights
and all other their rights, they resolve and declare them to be King
and Queen of England, France, and Ireland for their joint and separate
lives, the full exercise of the administration being in the prince;
and, in default of heirs of the Princess Mary, the succession to fall
to the Princess Anne of Denmark; and, in the default of such issue to
the Princess Anne of Denmark, to the posterity of William. On the same
12th of February on which this most important document was passed, the
Princess Mary landed at Greenwich.

The next morning, Wednesday, the 13th of February, 1689, the two Houses
waited on William and Mary, who received them in the Banqueting room
at Whitehall. The prince and princess entered, and stood under the
canopy of State side by side. Halifax was speaker on the occasion. He
requested their Highnesses to hear a resolution of both Houses, which
the Clerk of the House of Lords then read. It was the Declaration of
Rights. Halifax then, in the name of all the Estates of the realm,
requested them to accept the crown. William, for himself and his wife,
accepted the offer, declaring it the more welcome that it was given in
proof of the confidence of the whole nation. He then added for himself,
"And as I had no other intention in coming hither than to preserve
your religion, laws, and liberties, so you may be sure that I shall
endeavour to support them, and be willing to concur in anything that
shall be for the good of the kingdom, and to do all that is in my power
to advance the welfare and the glory of the nation."

This declaration was no sooner brought to an end than it was received
with shouts of satisfaction by the whole assembly, and, being heard by
the crowds without, was re-echoed by one universal "Hurrah!" The Lords
and Commons, as in courtesy bound, then retired; and, at the great
gate of the palace, the heralds and pursuivants, clad in their quaint
tabards, proclaimed William and Mary King and Queen of England, at the
same time praying for them, according to custom, "a long and happy
reign." The dense mass of people, filling the whole street to Charing
Cross, answered with a stunning shout; and thus, in three months and
eight days from the landing of William at Torbay, the Great Revolution
of 1688 was completed.

CHAPTER XI.

PROGRESS OF THE NATION FROM THE CIVIL WAR TO THE GREAT REVOLUTION.

Religion: Nonconformist Sects--Imprisonment of Bunyan--Fox
and the Society of Friends--The Punishment of James
Naylor--Expulsion of Roger Williams--Other Religious
Sects--Literature: Milton--His Works--Cowley--Butler--Dryden--Minor
Poets--Dramatists of the Restoration--Prose Writers: Milton and
Dryden--Hobbes--Clarendon--Baxter--Bunyan--Walton--Evelyn and
Pepys--Founding of the Royal Society--Physical Science--Discoveries
of Napier, Newton, and Flamsteed--Mathematicians and
Chemists--Harvey and Worcester--Painting, Sculpture, and
Engraving--Coinage--Music--Furniture--Costume--Manners and
Customs--State of London--Sports and Amusements--Country
Life--Travelling--The Clergy--Yeomen--Village Sports--Growth
of the Revenue and Commerce--Growing prosperity of the North
of England--The Navigation Act--Norwich and Bristol--Postal
Arrangements--Advantages Derived from the Industries of the
Foreign Refugees--The East India Company--Condition of the People:
Wages--The Poor Law--Efforts of Philanthropists.

The struggles of the Church we have sufficiently traced in our
recent chapters. With the Restoration it came back to full power and
possession of its revenues and honours, and held them firmly against
all rivals till James menaced them with the recall of the Roman
hierarchy, when, joining with the alarmed public, it compelled the
monarch himself to fly, and continued on its own vantage-ground. The
only notice of religious phenomena at this period demanded of us is
rather what regards the sects which now became conspicuous.

The leading sects, the Presbyterians, the Independents, and the
Baptists--then called Anabaptists--differed little in their faith.
They were all of the Calvinistic school, whilst the Episcopal Church
was already divided by the contending parties of Calvinists and
Arminians. We have related the struggles of the Presbyterians, English
and Scottish, for the possession of the Establishment in England to
the exclusion of all other faiths; the triumph of the Independents,
with more liberal views, through Cromwell and the army, and the
expulsion of both these parties from the national pulpits following
on the Restoration. The Baptists, though many of them were high in
the army and the State during the Commonwealth, never displayed the
political ambition of the other two great denominations. They cut,
indeed, no figure in the secular affairs of the nation, but they were
most honourably distinguished by their assertion of the right of
private opinion. They were as tolerant of religious liberty as the
Independents, or more so, from whom they differed only in their views
of the rite of Baptism. Their early history in England was adorned by
the appearance in their pulpits of one of the most extraordinary men
of modern times--John Bunyan, whose "Pilgrim's Progress" continues
to delight all classes of men, and will continue to do so as long as
the English language is read. Bunyan, a tinker by trade, was serving
in the Parliamentary army at Leicester, at the time of the battle of
Naseby; and when Charles I. fled to that town John was ordered out as
a sentinel, and his life was saved by another soldier volunteering to
take his duty, who was shot at his post. Bunyan was thrown into prison
for daring to preach under Charles II., and lay in gaol twelve years
and a half, solely because he had a conscience of his own; and was only
liberated on the Declaration of Indulgence by James II. A Mr. Smyth, a
clergyman of the Church of England, who adopted their faith, was the
first to open a chapel for the Baptists in London, and, encouraged by
his example, others were soon opened, and the views of the denomination
soon spread over England and Wales, in later times to be eloquently
expounded by Robert Robinson and Robert Hall.

But the most remarkable organisation of a religious body was that of
the Society of Friends, or, as they soon came to be nicknamed, Quakers,
whose founder, George Fox, was born at Drayton, in Leicestershire,
in 1624. His father was a weaver, and George was apprenticed to a
shoemaker, who also had a little farm. He informs us in his own
journal that he preferred the farming, and chiefly devoted himself
to it. When he was about nineteen he became deeply impressed with a
religious feeling. It was a time when religious discussion was making
rapid progress amongst the people from the more general access to the
Bible, and many were dissatisfied with the different churches, which
seemed too much engaged in attempts at worldly aggrandisement, and
at achieving a dominance over each other. George was one of these.
In seeking for clear views of religious faith, such as could set his
mind at rest, he went to various clergymen of the Established Church
first, but he found no light. One of them bade him take tobacco and
sing psalms; and another, Cradock of Coventry, was beginning to speak
comfortably to George as they walked in the garden, when the embryo
reformer unluckily happened to set his foot on a flower-border, which
threw the clergyman into such a rage that the discourse was abruptly
brought to an end.

[Illustration: ROGER WILLIAMS LEAVING HIS HOME IN MASSACHUSETTS. (_See
p._ 354.)]

Finding no relief or illumination from professors, as he called them,
Fox wisely took his Bible, and used to retire into a hollow tree in
the fields, where he read and prayed earnestly to God to enlighten
his understanding to comprehend the sacred volume, and the genuine
will of the Lord. The result was that he came to a clear and steadfast
conviction that Christianity was strictly a spiritual thing, having
nothing specifically to do with States and Governments, with worldly
pomp and power, and strivings after mortal honours and high places;
that Christ simply and strictly defined it when He said, "My kingdom
is not of this world." He saw that it was the grand principle by which
the soul of man is intended to be regenerated--born again, in fact, and
made fitting to enter into the kingdom of disembodied souls, in the
presence of God and His angels. He found himself, in a word, called
back from the conflicting views and empty ceremonies of the time to
Christianity as it existed among the Apostles--a perfectly spiritual,
and holy, and disinterested thing, embodying the wisdom and the truth
of God, and inhabiting, not formal creeds and outward ceremonies, but
the heart of man, and thence influencing all his thoughts and actions
for good. George perceived that all fixed creeds, all rites and
ceremonies, all investments in State power, were but as cobwebs and old
rags with which the self-interest and self-love of men had enveloped,
encumbered, and degraded it; and he felt himself called to go forth and
proclaim this, which he emphatically styled "the truth."

Fox carried his great Christian text into every act and department
of life. He was the first to elevate woman to her true place--an
intellectual, moral, and political equality with man; basing his
principle on the apostolic declaration that male and female are all one
in Christ Jesus. Acting on this principle, the women of his Society
became preachers, and transacted their own affairs of association in
their own meetings. He refused to take an oath before a magistrate,
because Christ expressly forbade His disciples to swear at all under
any circumstances; he refused to say "Thou" to a poor man, and "You"
to a rich one, as was then the odious practice; he refused to take
off his hat as a mark of homage to the wealthy and great, on the same
principle that it was a custom of pride and invidious distinction; and
he addressed prince or magistrate with the respectful boldness which
became a man sensible that the only true dignity was the dignity of
truth. The sufferings which were brought upon him and his followers by
these novel doctrines and practices from all parties were terrible.
About three thousand of them were imprisoned, even under the more
liberal rule of the Commonwealth, and as many under Charles II. Their
property was spoliated, their meeting-houses were pulled down, and
their families grossly insulted in their absence. Yet the doctrine
spread rapidly, and many eminent men embraced it; amongst others,
William Penn, the son of Admiral Penn, and the learned Robert Barclay,
who wrote the celebrated vindication of their faith.

At the same time the violent agitation of the period, and the
enthusiasm of this new doctrine, led some of Fox's followers into
considerable extravagances. The most prominent case was that of
James Naylor, who for a time was undoubtedly led into insanity by
the effervescence of his mind under his religious zeal; and allowed
women to lead his horse into Exeter, crying "Holy! holy! holy!" and
spreading their scarves and handkerchiefs in the way before him, as if
he had been the Saviour come again. Naylor professed that this homage
was not offered to him personally, but to Christ within him. His case
occupied the House of Commons for nearly two months altogether. There
were violent debates on it from morning till night; but at length, on
the 17th of December, 1656, it was voted that he should be set in the
pillory in Palace Yard for two hours; then be whipped from Westminster
to the Old Exchange, London, twice, wearing a paper containing a
description of his crimes; should have his tongue bored through with a
hot iron by the hangman for his blasphemy; be branded on the forehead
with the letter B; that he should be sent to Bristol, and there
whipped through the city on a market-day, paraded face backwards on a
saddleless horse, and then sent back to Bridewell, in London, where
he should be kept to hard labour, and debarred from the visits of his
friends, and from access to pens, ink, and paper.

All this was rigidly inflicted upon him, and borne heroically. After
two years' confinement in Bridewell he was dismissed, thoroughly cured
of his hallucination, ready to admit it, but as firm in his adhesion
to the principles of Quakerism as ever; and the Society, pitying his
fall, never withdrew from him their sympathy or the enjoyment of his
membership. He died soon after his release.

In America, in New England, the Quakers were more fiercely persecuted
than in England by the Puritans, who had themselves fled from
persecution. In Massachusetts and Connecticut they were ordered to
have their ears cut off if men, to be publicly whipped if women; and
for a second offence to have their tongues bored through if they dared
to come into these colonies; and this not deterring them, they hanged
several men and women. Endicott, the Governor of Connecticut, when one
of them quoted the words of St. Paul, "For in Him we live, and move,
and have our being," irreverently replied, "And so does every cat and
dog."

This intolerance of the Puritans was equally exerted against one of
their own members, the venerable Roger Williams, who was driven from
Massachusetts for courageously advocating the doctrine of perfect
freedom of conscience. In fact, Roger Williams was one of the very
first, if not the first man, who proclaimed this great doctrine; and
therefore deserves to be held in eternal remembrance. The honour of
being the earliest publisher of the right of spiritual freedom must,
perhaps, be awarded to Leonard Busher, who published a work on the
subject in 1614, and dedicated it to King James. Roger Williams,
expelled from Massachusetts, proceeded to Narraganset Bay, and became
the founder of the colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations,
where the most perfect freedom of religious faith was allowed.

Besides the sects in England already enumerated, there were many minor
ones. The "Millenarians," or "Fifth Monarchy Men," whose views we have
already explained. To this sect Major-General Harrison belonged; and
they created a riot under Venner, the wine-cooper. There was a sect
called "The Seekers," amongst whom Fox once fell, and many of them
joined him, believing they had found what they sought. There were the
"Ranters," a body noted for their noise and vociferation; "Behmenists,"
or disciples of the German mystic, Jacob Behmen; "Vanists," followers
of the religious views of Sir Harry Vane; and lastly, "Muggletonians,"
the disciples of one Ludovick Muggleton and John Reeve.

Muggleton was a journeyman tailor, and he and Reeve pretended to be the
two witnesses mentioned in the eleventh chapter of "The Revelation."
They were fanatics of the wildest and most furious character, and
professed to have power to save or damn all whom they pleased, and they
"dealt damnation round the land" with the utmost freedom. The Quakers
and Behmenists were the objects of their most violent denunciations,
probably because Fox and Penn protested against their wild and fanatic
doctrines, which were the antipodes of those of Fox; for, instead
of representing God as a pure spirit, they asserted that He had a
corporeal body, and came down to earth in it as Christ, leaving the
prophet Elias in heaven to rule in His absence. They contended that
man's soul is inseparably united to his body, dies and rises again
with it. They professed to have an especial knowledge of "the place
and nature of heaven, and the place and nature of hell;" with the
persons and natures of devils and angels. The truculent ravings of
these fanatics may be seen in the works and letters of Muggleton,
still extant. In one letter he delivers sentence of damnation on
six-and-twenty Quakers at once. "Inasmuch," he says, "as God hath
chosen me on earth to be the judge of blasphemy against the Holy Ghost,
therefore, in obedience to my commission from the true God, I do
pronounce all these twenty-six persons whose names are above written,
cursed and damned in their souls and bodies from the presence of God,
elect men, and angels in eternity." But this was little: he declared
all Quakers, and Behmenists, and numbers of other people damned and
cursed for ever.

This repulsive apostle of perdition was tried at the Old Bailey,
and convicted of blasphemy in 1676, and died in 1697, at the age of
eighty-eight.

We have seen with what a desolating sweep the bloody conflicts of
the Parliament against the encroachments of kingship prostrated the
pursuits of literature and art. We might have expected that the return
to established tranquillity under restored monarchy would have caused
a new spring of genius. But in no reign in England, and in no country
except France, have debauchery and the most hideous grossness so
defiled the productions of poetry and the drama.

Amid the satyr crew of degraded men and women who then represented
the literary world of England, some few, however, maintained a pure
and dignified career. At the head of these, equally exalted above the
rest by genius and purity of life and morals, stood John Milton (_b._
1608; _d._ 1674), one of the greatest epic poets, if not the greatest,
that the world has produced. Milton had saturated himself with the
poetic spirit, imagery, and expression of the Prophetic bards, as
well as with knowledge of those of Greece and Rome; and he brought to
bear an immense mass of varied learning on his subject with a power
of appropriation that gave to it a new and wonderful life instead
of the aspect of pedantry. The names of people and places which he
moulds into his diction seem to open up to the imagination regions of
unimagined grandeur and beauty amid strains of solemnest music; and
the descriptions of scenery, such as abound in "Comus," "Lycidas,"
and "Arcades," as well as those diffused through "Paradise Lost" and
"Paradise Regained," are like the most exquisite glimpses into the most
fair and solitary landscapes, breathing every rural fragrance, and
alive with all rural sounds and harmonies.

But it was when he was old, and poor, and blind, and living among the
hatred and the ribald obscenity of the Restoration, that he had scaled
those sublime altitudes of genius, and seemed to walk on the celestial
hills amid their pure and glorious inhabitants, rather than on earth
surrounded by rankest impurities and basest natures. It was when

"His soul was like a star, and dwelt apart,"

when he had fallen on evil days, that he had alone allowed himself
leisure to work out these the earliest of his aspirations. Long
before--when he had returned from his pleasant sojourn in Italy, where
he saw Galileo in his prison, and was himself received and honoured
by the greatest men of the land, as in anticipation of his after
glory, and was now engaged in defending the sternest measures of
the Republicans--in his "Reasons of Church Government urged against
Prelacy" he unfolded the grand design of his master work, but kept it
self-denyingly in his soul till he had done his duty to his country.
The views which he cherished in his literary ambition are as exalted in
their moral grandeur as his genius was in its native character. These
were, he said, "That what the greatest and choicest arts of Athens,
Rome, or modern Italy and those Hebrews of old did for their country,
I, in my proportion, with this over and above of being a Christian,
might do for mine, not caring to be named once abroad, though perhaps
I could attain unto that, but content me with these British islands
as my world." At this period, it seems, he had not made up his mind
whether he should adopt "the epic form, as exemplified by Homer,
Virgil, and Tasso, or the dramatic, wherein Sophocles and Euripides
reign; or in the style of those magnificent odes and hymns of Pindarus
and Callimachus, not forgetting that of all those kinds of writing the
highest models are to be found in the Holy Scriptures in the Book of
Job, in the Song of Solomon, and the Apocalypse of St. John, in the
grand songs interspersed throughout the Law and the Prophets." But in
one thing he was fixed--that the work should be one "not raised from
the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at
waste from the pen of some vulgar amorist, or the trencher fury of some
rhyming parasite, nor to be obtained by the invocation of Dame Memory
and her siren daughters, but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit
who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out His
seraphim with the hallowed fire of His altar, to touch and purify the
lips of whom He pleases."

"So prayed, more gaining than he asked, the bard,
Holiest of men."

So he waited, fighting the battles of his country side by side with
Cromwell and Hampden, Pym and Marvell; and when at length he found
leisure to achieve his last great triumph, he was left alone in the
field. He had outlived the long battle of king and people, in which
extraordinary men and as extraordinary events had arisen, and shaken
the whole civilised world. Blind, poor, and old, as if some special
guardianship of Providence had shielded him, or as if the very foes who
had dragged the dreaded Cromwell from his grave feared the imprecations
of posterity, and shrank from touching that sacred head--there sat the
sublime old man at his door, feeling, with grateful enjoyment, the
genial sunshine falling upon him; or dictating immortal verses to his
daughters, as the divine _afflatus_ seized him.

Much has been said of the small sum received for his "Paradise Lost,"
and the slow recognition which it met with. But it is not a fact that
"Paradise Lost" was coolly greeted. Long before Addison gave his
laudatory critique in the _Spectator_, the glory of Milton's great poem
had been attested by Barrow, Andrew Marvell, Lord Anglesea, who used
often to visit him in Bunhill Fields, by the Duke of Buckingham, and
by many other celebrated men. Sir John Denham appeared in the House of
Commons with a proof-sheet of "Paradise Lost" in his hand, wet from
the press, and, being asked what it was, replied, "part of the noblest
poem that ever was written in any language or age." The poem went into
two editions during the author's life, and he corrected it for a third,
which was published soon after his death. In fact, Milton's fame had to
rise from under piled heaps of hatred and ignominy on account of his
politics and religion, for he had attacked the Church as formidably as
the State in his treatise on "The Best Mode of Removing Hirelings" out
of it, as well as in his book against prelacy; but it flung off all
that load of prejudice, and rose to universal acknowledgment.

We need not detain ourselves with much detail of his other poetical
works, which are now familiar to all readers. They consist of his early
poems, including the exquisite "L'Allegro" and "Il Penseroso," his
"Comus" and "Lycidas," a mask and an elegy: his magnificent sonnets,
his "Samson Agonistes," a sacred drama, but constructed strictly on the
Grecian model. It has been often said that Milton had no genius for the
drama; the "Samson" is a sufficient refutation of that opinion. It is
full of dramatic power and interest; it is like some ancient piece of
sculpture, unique, grand, massive, and solemn; and, indeed, had Milton
devoted himself to the drama, it would have been rather in the style of
Sophocles than of Shakespeare, for he was too lofty and earnest in his
whole nature for real humour, or for much variation in mood and manner.
He could never have been a comic poet, but, had he willed it, would
undoubtedly have been a great tragic one. The epic character, however,
prevailed in him, and decided his career.

[Illustration: MILTON DICTATING "PARADISE LOST" TO HIS DAUGHTERS. (_See
p._ 356.)

(_After the Picture by Munkacsy._)]

Besides these poetical works, were his odes, including the splendid
ones of the "Nativity" and the "Passion," and a great number of
translations from the chief poets of Greece, Rome, and Italy, original
poems written in Latin and Italian, portion of the Psalms "done into
metre," and "Paradise Regained." This last poem, though bearing no
degree of equality to the "Paradise Lost," is yet a noble poem, and
would have made a great reputation for any other man. It is clearly not
so well thought out and elaborated as the "Paradise Lost," which was
the dream of his youth, the love and the labour of his prime. "Paradise
Regained," on the other hand, was the chance suggestion of Thomas
Elwood, his Latin reader, and closed with the temptation of Christ in
the wilderness, instead of including the Crucifixion and Ascension,
which might have given the poet a scope equal in magnificence to that
of his former great epic. Of his prose works we shall speak presently.

The most popular of all poets of this period was Abraham Cowley (_b._
1618; _d._ 1667). He is a striking example of those authors whom the
critics of the time cry to the skies, and whom more discriminating
posterity are willing to forget. Cowley, in his lifetime, had ten
times the fame of Milton. Johnson, so unjust to many of our poets,
can hardly be said to be so to Cowley. He says--"Though in his own
time considered of unrivalled excellence, and as having taken a flight
beyond all that went before him, Cowley's reputation could not last.
His character of writing was not his own; he unhappily adopted that
which was predominant. He saw a certain way to present praise; and, not
sufficiently inquiring by what means the ancients have continued to
delight through all the changes of human manners, he contented himself
with a deciduous laurel."

He, in fact, for popularity's sake, preferred art, or rather artifice,
to nature. Yet there are many beautiful thoughts, much real fancy
and wit scattered through his poems; but they are too often buried
in outrageous conceits and distorted metre. He never seems really in
earnest, but always playing with his subject, and constructing gewgaws
instead of raising immortal structures.

Cowley was a zealous Royalist; he went over to France when the queen
of Charles I. retired thither, and became her secretary for her
private correspondence with Charles. Afterwards he was sent over in
the character of a spy on the Republican party and its proceedings.
"Under pretence of privacy and retirement, he was to take occasion of
giving notice of the posture of things in this nation;" but became
suspected, and was arrested. He then fawned on Cromwell, wrote verses
in his honour, which, however, were only shown in private; and, when
the Commonwealth began to exhibit signs of dissolution, he again
hastened to the exiled Court in France, and came back in the crowd
of Royalists eager for promotion. But his flattering of Cromwell had
been reported, and he was treated with coldness. Yet after some time,
through Buckingham and the Earl of St. Albans, he obtained a lease of
some lands, and, after the ill reception of his play of "The Cutter of
Colman Street," he retired into the country, first to Barn Elms, and
next to Chertsey, in Surrey, where he died in his forty-ninth year.

The great satirist of the age was Samuel Butler (_b._ 1600; _d._
1680), who in his "Hudibras" introduced a new kind of poetry--a comic
doggerel, now styled, as _sui generis_, Hudibrastic. Butler was the
son of a yeoman, and had been educated for the Church without those
connections which lead to promotion. With an immense accumulation of
learning, and talent enough to have made half a dozen bishops, he
became at one time a clerk to one Jeffreys, a justice of the peace at
Earl's Coomb, in Worcestershire, and afterwards to Sir Samuel Luke, at
Woodend, in Bedfordshire. In these situations he gleaned the characters
and materials for his "Hudibras," a burlesque on the Puritans. Sir
Samuel Luke was the actual Hudibras. The poem ridicules the Puritans in
every way, but especially for attempting to put down bear-baiting; and
accordingly the first canto--

"The adventure of the bear and fiddle
Is sung, but breaks off in the middle."

Hudibras and his man Ralpho attack the bear, but are defeated,
and then Hudibras retires and makes love to a rich widow. He is a
Presbyterian, and Ralpho an Independent; and in the course of the story
all the leading characters of the Commonwealth, Cromwell, Fleetwood,
Desborough, Lambert, are ridiculed by name, as are Pym, Calamy,
Case, Byfield, Lentham, and the rest under more or less transparent
nicknames, as Ashley Cooper, under the name of the "politician," and
John Lilburne, under that of "brother haberdasher." The first part was
published in 1663, the second in 1664, and the third in 1678, fourteen
years later. Still the poem remained unfinished. It did not require,
however, even the second part to make it famous. It was received with
one universal burst of laughter and applause by the Royalists. Charles
II. and his courtiers were merrier over it than all, and Charles quoted
it continually with unfailing gusto. The Earl of Dorset resolved to
seize the opportunity, and introduce the author, through Buckingham,
to Charles. Buckingham gave him an audience, but just as they were
entering on conversation, Buckingham saw some ladies of loose character
going past, ran out after them, and the poet was not only forgotten,
but could never get a second interview. Clarendon, however, promised
to see him duly rewarded, but never kept his word, and Butler lived
poor and died neglected, at the age of eighty. This shameful neglect
has been much commented on; but no one seems to have reflected that
there may have been more in this than mere neglect. Butler, in his
double-edged satire, made some very hard hits at the Church, and,
while ridiculing the Puritans, gave some not very light back-strokes
to the licentiousness of the Royalists. He wrote an avowed "Satire on
the Licentiousness of the Age;" and in his third part so far vented
his resentment at his neglect as to satirise Charles himself for being
led by the apronstrings of his numerous mistresses. He laughed at the
sages of the newly established Royal Society in his "Elephant in the
Moon;" and such a man is more frequently kicked than rewarded. The
Church did not forget his sallies against it, and refused him burial in
Westminster Abbey. When he wrote the questions and answers between the
man disguised as a devil and Hudibras--

"What makes a church a den of thieves?--
A dean, a chapter, and white sleeves.
What makes all points of doctrine clear?--
About two hundred pounds a year.
And that which was proved true before,
Prove false again?--Two hundred more"--

though the sting was intended for the Puritans, the Puritans laid hold
on the passage, and quoted it against the Church, and this and like
blows rebounded, no doubt, on the poets head.

The most illustrious name of this period next to that of Milton is that
of John Dryden (_b._ 1631; _d._ 1701). He wrote almost every kind of
poetry--satires, odes, plays, romantic stories--and translated Juvenal,
Persius, the epistles of Ovid, and Virgil. It was unfortunate for the
genius of Dryden that he was generally struggling with poverty, and
by marrying an aristocratic and uncongenial wife, the sister of Sir
Robert Howard, he was all the more compelled to exert his powers to
live in the style which their circumstances demanded. Hence he produced
an immense mass of writings which added little to his fame. Foremost
amongst these are his plays, nearly thirty in number, which were mostly
unsuccessful, and which abound with such gross indecencies that, had
they even high merit otherwise, they would be found to be unperusable.
He had the presumption to new-model Shakespeare's "Midsummer Night's
Dream" and the "Tempest"--two of the most poetical compositions in
existence--and blurred them with the foul leprosy of obscenity. He
treated the "Paradise Lost" in the same way; nor did his necessities
lead him to these enormities only; but there is little doubt they
drove him to apostatise from his religion, and from his original
political faith. His first poem of any note was a most eulogistic elegy
on the death of Cromwell, in which, amongst many other such things, he
said--

"Heav'n in his portrait showed a workman's hand,
And drew it perfect, yet without a shade."

His very next poem, and that of some length, was "Astræa Redux; a Poem
on the Happy Restoration and Return of his Sacred Majesty Charles II.,"
immediately followed by "A Panegyric on his Coronation," in which he
heaps still more glowing praise on the young royal libertine, and
flings dust as liberally at his late idol:--

"While our cross stars denied us Charles's bed,
Whom our first flames and virgin love did wed,
For his long absence Church and State did groan,
Madness the pulpit, faction seized the throne;
Experienced age in deep despair was lost,
_To see the rebel thrive_, the loyal crossed."

The accomplished sycophant received as his reward the office of Poet
Laureate, with three hundred pounds a year; and he paid officiously
more than his peppercorn of praise in the "Annus Mirabilis, or Year of
Wonders, 1666," in which the sea fights with the Dutch and the Fire
of London were commemorated in elegiac stanzas, and the most fulsome
and almost impious adulation was poured in showers on both the king
and his heir apparent, the Duke of York--not forgetting an especial
poetical address to the duchess on her husband's victories over the
Hollanders. No doubt Dryden made himself sure that his Laureate salary
was safe, but he was mistaken. James, though "the best who ever bore
the name," could forget benefits, and even flatteries; but he never
forgot an ill turn, or anything that endangered his great design of
restoring Popery; and Dryden, to please the Church and the late king,
whom he did not know to be at heart a Papist, had written his "Religio
Laici," in which he had pulled the Catholic Church to pieces, and
lauded superlatively the Anglican hierarchy. James first took away his
butt of sack, and then his salary; whereupon Dryden directly turned
Catholic, and wrote "The Hind and the Panther," to beslaver Popery,
kick down Protestantism, and reconcile the public to James's invidious
scheme of abolishing the Test Act for his own purposes. This succeeded,
and Dryden continued to receive his pay, and do his dirty work during
James's reign. It was expected that he would wheel round again on
William and Mary's success; but he lived and died Catholic.

With all respect for the genius of Dryden, it is thus impossible for a
truthful historian to take any but a melancholy view of his personal
character, and of the mass of his writings. They are, in fact, mostly
on subjects that do not fall within the legitimate province of true
poetry. His "Absalom and Achitophel"--written to ridicule Monmouth
and Shaftesbury, with their accomplice, Buckingham, under the name of
"Zimri," and to damage the Whig party generally--is transcendently
clever; but even the highest satirical and political verse is not
poetry--it is only cleverness in verse; and this is the grand
characteristic of Dryden's poetry--it is masterly verse. There is no
creative faculty in it; it is a matter of style rather than of soul and
sentiment; and in style he is a great master. This made Milton say that
Dryden was a good rhymester, but no poet; and in Milton's conception of
poetry, and in that which has taught us to venerate Homer, Shakespeare,
Milton, Wordsworth, Shelley, and others, Dryden was not a poet of the
highest rank. A modern critic has given him great credit for "creative
power and genius" in his adaptations of some of Chaucer's tales; but
this is a mistake. The creative genius is Chaucer's; Dryden has only
remodelled the tales in modern language; the ideas, the invention,
are all Chaucer's; Dryden's share consists in his wonderful, elastic,
musical diction, in which he undoubtedly excels every English author
in the heroic measure. Pope's is more artificial, but is far behind
in musical rhythm and elastic vigour. Dryden's heroic verse is music
itself, and music full of its highest elements. In it the trumpet
sings, the drum beats, the organ blows in solemn thunder, the flute and
fife shrill forth eloquence, and all mingled instruments seem to chorus
in a combination of blissful sounds and feelings. In the latter part
of his life Dryden, standing independent of all Government drudgery,
shows more worthily both in life and verse. His translation of Virgil
yet remains the best in our language. He had done with his contemptible
squabbles with Elkanah Settle and Shadwell, who won from him the
honours and profits of the theatre; and his "Fables," as he called
them--tales from Chaucer--seemed to inspire him with a more really
poetic feeling. In them he seemed to grow purer, and to open his soul
to the influences of classical and natural beauty, to the charms of
nature, and of old romance. These tales will always remain the truest
monuments of Dryden's fame. His odes, much as they have been praised,
are rather feats of art than outpourings of poetic inspiration. His
"Alexander's Feast" is but a description of the effects of music on a
drunken conqueror and a courtesan. Who now would dream of placing it by
the side of Coleridge's "Ode to France," or Wordsworth's "Intimations
of Immortality from Recollections of Childhood"? But any one turning to
"Palamon and Arcite" will find himself in a real fairyland of poetry,
and perceive how much Keats, Leigh Hunt, and other modern poets have
formed themselves on his style, and have even adopted his triplets.

We have given so much space to these the greatest poets of this period,
that we have little for the rest. We have mentioned Andrew Marvell's
beautiful ballad, "The Emigrants" (p. 180), and Wither's poems (p.
178), in our previous review. Sir John Denham's descriptive poem,
"Cooper's Hill," had great popularity, and is a good specimen of that
class of verse. Waller was a reigning favourite for his lyrics, which
are elegant, but destitute of any high principle or emotion, as the man
was, who wrote a panegyric on Cromwell and another on Charles II.; and
when Charles told him he thought that on Cromwell the better, replied,
"Sir, we poets never excel so well in writing truth as in writing
fiction." Amongst the courtiers of Charles, Buckingham and Rochester
were poets. Buckingham's comedy, "The Rehearsal," which was written
to ridicule the heroic drama copied by Dryden from the French, still
finds admirers; and the genius of Rochester was unquestionable, but
still inferior to his obscenity. Sir Charles Sedley, another courtier,
wrote comedies and songs almost equally famous for their dissoluteness.
Charles Cotton, the author of "Virgil Travestied," was a writer of much
wit, but nearly equal grossness, though he was the intimate friend of
Izaak Walton, who was also no mean poet. The Earls of Roscommon and
Dorset were popular, the first for his "Essay on Translated Verse,"
written in verse, and the other for his splendid ballad written at sea,
commencing "To all you ladies now on land." Pomfret, a clergyman, wrote
a didactic poem called "The Choice," which Dr. Johnson declared to be
more frequently read than almost any poem in the language, and which
Southey believed to be the most popular poem in the language. It is,
in reality, one of the common-places gone by. Sir William Davenant, a
reputed son of Shakespeare, wrote "Gondibert," a heroic poem in elegiac
stanzas, which has good parts, but, as a whole, is intolerably dull.
Sir Richard Fanshawe was celebrated as a translator, especially of
Guarini's "Pastor Fido." Another translator from Greek and Spanish
was Thomas Stanley, the learned editor of Æschylus, and the author of
"The History of Philosophy." Besides these may be mentioned Bulteel,
a popular songwriter; Philip Ayres, a lyrical poet; Dr. Henry More,
author of a poem, "The Life of the Soul," in Spenserian stanzas; and
Flatman, an imitator of Cowley.

[Illustration: SAMUEL BUTLER.]

The dramatic writing of the period was rather voluminous than
first-rate. Davenant wrote above twenty plays, masks, etc.; but the
most eminent dramatists were the unfortunate Otway, Nathaniel Lee,
Sir George Etherege, Wycherley, Crowne, Southern, and Jasper Mayne.
Otway's "Orphan" and "Venice Preserved" still maintain their fame;
he wrote altogether ten plays. Nathaniel Lee wrote ten tragedies,
a great mixture of talent and bombast. The most celebrated of them
are his "Theodosius" and his "Rival Queens." Crowne wrote seventeen
plays, in which the selections made by Charles Lamb in his "Dramatic
Specimens" show that there exists perhaps the most pre-eminent dramatic
genius of the age. Etherege is the author of three comedies of great
polish and brilliancy, and set the pattern for Wycherley, and for
Congreve, Farquhar, and Vanbrugh in the next period. Wycherley wrote
four comedies equally remarkable for vigour and indecency. In fact,
it is scarcely necessary to repeat that the whole of the dramatic
literature of this period is thoroughly disfigured with the coarsest
and most revolting sensuality and obscenity. Southern belongs properly
to the next era, as he produced only two of his plays during this
period--his tragedy of "The Loyal Brother," and his comedy of "The
Disappointment." Shadwell and Settle inundated the stage with worthless
plays; and Mrs. Aphra Behn, a courtesan as well as writer, was the
author of a whole host of comedies, novels, and poems. Of the two
comedies by Jasper Mayne--who, by-the-by, was a clergyman--"The City
Match" is the better. Perhaps we ought not to close this review of
the poets without a mention of the most successful poetaster of the
age, Nahum Tate, who was in such estimation as to be allowed to supply
our churches with his most wretched version of the Psalms, and to be
employed by Dryden to continue his satire of "Absalom and Achitophel."

At the head of the prose writers of this period, as of the poets,
we must place Milton. Though his writings are for the most part on
controversial subjects, they were subjects of such immense importance
that they acquired a lasting value. They bear a certain relation to
his poetry. This in its highest exhibition celebrated the triumph of
the Deity over the powers of evil. His prose writings were employed to
support the struggle of liberty against the advocates of all political
evil--absolutism. Poetry seemed to have become the habitual expression
of his mind, and, therefore, there is in his prose style a certain
awkwardness and stiffness. He moves like David in armour that he had
not well proved; and his utterance, solemn and full of deep thought and
erudition, is, as it were, forced and formal. But when he warms up with
the greatness of his subject, he runs into a strain of grave eloquence
which has scarcely an equal in the language.

The great prose works of Milton comprise his "History of England"
from the earliest times to the Conquest, including all the old
legends of the chroniclers, the arrival of Brute from Rome, the
story of King Lear, and those fine fables which have been the
storehouses of poets and dramatists; his "Tractate on Education;" his
magnificent "Areopagitica;" his "Tenure of Kings and Magistrates;" the
"Eikonoklastes;" the "Defensio pro Populo Anglicano" and "Defensio
Secunda"--vindicating the conduct of England in deposing impracticable
kings; his "Treatise on the Best Manner of Removing Hirelings out of
the Church;" his essay on "Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes;" his
"State Letters," written at the command of Cromwell; an "Art of Logic;"
a "Treaty of True Religion, Heresy, Schism, Toleration, and what Best
Means may be used against the Growth of Popery;" and his "Familiar
Letters," in Latin. Besides these he left in manuscript a "Brief
History of Muscovy," and a "System of Theology"--both since published.
It may be safely said that scarcely any other writer has left such a
sound and profound body of knowledge of all that is necessary for the
maintenance of freedom, civil and religious, in the State.

Dryden is also a vigorous prose writer; but nothing can be more
characteristic of the two men than the prose of Milton and Dryden.
The one is grave, solemn, independent, upholding the sacred interests
of religion and liberty; the other, that of Dryden--besides short
lives of Polybius, Lucian, and Plutarch, and an "Essay on Dramatic
Literature"--consists chiefly of a mass of his dramatic writings,
couched in the most extravagant and unmanly terms of flattery. It is in
vain to say that this was the spirit of the time; we have only to turn
to Milton and behold that a great soul despised such sycophancy as much
then as now.

Clarendon's "History of the Rebellion" and Memoirs of his own life
assume a permanent importance from the position which he occupied in
the struggles of those times; as literary compositions they are unique
in style, but as historical authority, it is necessary to read them
with caution.

Hobbes (_b._ 1588; _d._ 1679), the celebrated philosopher of
Malmesbury, was one of the most powerful minds of the age. By his
works, called the "Leviathan," his treatise on "Human Nature," on
"Liberty and Necessity," and his "Decameron Physiologicum," with others
of the like kind, he became the head of a great school of writers,
which found wide acceptance in France, Germany, and England. Mr. Mill
says--"Hobbes is a great name in philosophy, on account both of what
he taught, and the extraordinary impulse which he communicated to the
spirit of free inquiry in Europe." But, on the other hand, it has been
well observed by a modern writer that, "as for what is properly to be
called his system of philosophy--and it is to be observed that in his
own writings his views in metaphysics, in morals, in politics, are all
bound and built up together into one consistent whole--the question
of the truth or falsehood of that seems to be completely settled.
Nobody now professes more than a partial Hobbism. If so much of the
creed of the philosopher of Malmesbury as affirms the non-existence of
any essential distinction between right and wrong, the non-existence
of conscience or the moral sense, the non-existence of anything
beyond mere sensation in either emotion or intelligence, and other
similar negatives of his moral and metaphysical doctrine, has still
its satisfied disciples, who is now a Hobbist either in politics or
mathematics? Yet certainly it is in these latter departments that we
must look for the greater part of what is absolutely original in the
notions of this teacher. Hobbes's philosophy of human nature is not
amiss as a philosophy of Hobbes's own human nature. Without passions or
imagination himself, and steering his own course through life by the
mere calculations of an enlightened selfishness, one half of the broad
mass of Humanity was to him nothing better than a blank."

Hobbes was a thorough advocate of personal monarchy, as is testified
by his "De Corpore Politico," his "Leviathan," and "Behemoth," the
last being a history of the Civil War from 1640 to 1660. Hobbes lived
to a great age, praised by his admirers as an example of independence.
His arguments were ably answered by Cudworth, by Clarendon, Bishops
Cumberland, Bramhall, and Tenison, by Dr. Henry More in his "History of
Philosophy;" by Eachard, and others.

A writer who has had a different influence was Richard Baxter (_b._
1615; _d._ 1691). Baxter held the same position in the religious world
as Halifax in the political one. Halifax gloried in the name of a
"Trimmer." He was constantly occupying the middle post in the world of
party. Sometimes one party congratulated itself that it had him, but
presently it found him defending measures of its opponents. In fact, he
was an independent thinker, and, extending his hand to either party as
he thought it right at the moment, he turned the balance of conflicting
opinions. Exactly so with Baxter; a clergyman of the Church of England,
he was yet a decided Nonconformist. He was a Monarchist in theory,
but was so disgusted with the Royalists for their licentiousness and
notions of absolutism, that he went over to the camp of Cromwell and
preached in it. But when Cromwell assumed the supreme power, again
Baxter was on the other side, condemning to his face his usurpation.
Baxter's mediating views led him to hope, on the return of Charles II.,
that Nonconformity and the Church might shake hands. He believed in
Charles's "Healing Declaration," and drew up an accommodating Liturgy,
but found himself deceived; the Hierarchy rejected such compromises.
He became a sufferer from Nonconformity, and yet remained an advocate
of Conformity to a certain extent. So was it in his theological
views; with one hand he embraced Calvin, with the other Arminius. He
rejected Calvin's doctrine of Reprobation, yet accepted his theory
of Election--that is, that certain persons are pre-ordained from all
eternity as instruments for certain work by God; but he agreed with
Arminius's assertion that all men whatever are capable of salvation,
for that Christ distinctly declared that He died for all, and that
whoever believed should be saved. The views of Baxter were adopted by
large numbers, who became a sect under the name of "Baxterians;" but
they were gradually absorbed into the different denominations of the
Independents, Baptists, etc., who may now be considered as generally
holding Baxter's mild and amiable opinions. Watts and Doddridge were
eminent professors of Baxter's creed. The chief works of Baxter are
his "Methodus Theologiæ," his "Catholic Theology," and his "Saints'
Everlasting Rest." The last is by far the most popular. It has been
circulated by tens of thousands into all quarters where the English
language reaches, and, like the "Pilgrim" of Bunyan, is to be found on
the shelves of the cottage and the farm in the remotest nooks. Perhaps
no book ever gave so much consolation to the spirits of so many simple
and earnest seekers after religious rest as this work of the venerable
Richard Baxter.

Bunyan (_b._ 1628; _d._ 1688) was a contemporary of Baxter, but a man
of a more robust and sturdy temper. Lying twelve years in Bedford gaol
for his religious faith, he there produced his immortal "Pilgrim's
Progress," a work which, as the production of an illiterate tinker,
was contemptuously ignored by the critics and the learned of the time,
till it had spread like a flood over the whole land and was become the
delight of the nation. The "Pilgrim" is a wonderful work for any man,
and Bunyan was undoubtedly a genius of the very first class.

With Baxter and Bunyan, the gentle angler, Izaak Walton (_b._ 1593;
_d._ 1683), claims a place for his "Lives of Religious Worthies," and
not less for his "Complete Angler," one of the first works, along with
"Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry," which awoke the love of
nature.

Side by side with these worthies stands John Evelyn (_b._ 1620; _d._
1706), a man who mixed with the Court in Charles II.'s reign without
defiling himself. He was the model of a true English gentleman--pious,
honourable, and exerting himself at once to maintain sound morals
and to promote science. His Memoirs present a lively picture of the
dissolute age in which he lived; and he sought to draw men away from
the sink of corruption by encouraging them to plant and cultivate
their estates. For this he wrote his "Sylva; or, a Discourse of
Forest Trees," still a standard and most delightful work. He was one
of the first members and promoters of the Royal Society, and wrote
"Numismata, a Discourse of Medals;" a "Parallel of Ancient and Modern
Architecture;" a work on Theology; and the first "Gardener's Almanac."

[Illustration: JOHN BUNYAN.]

As a memoir-writer of the same period Samuel Pepys (_b._ 1632;
_d._ 1703) is more popular than Evelyn. Pepys was Secretary to
the Admiralty in the reigns of Charles II. and James II.; and his
inimitably-gossiping volumes of whatever he saw during those times have
been often reprinted and read everywhere with great unction. Pepys,
besides this, continued a most invaluable collection of old ballads
begun by Selden, from which Bishop Percy amply helped himself in
collecting his "Reliques;" so that to Pepys and John Selden we really
owe much of that great revolution in taste and poetry which we ascribe
almost exclusively to Percy. Another Memorialist of this period was Sir
William Temple, a man who, like Evelyn, maintained a high moral status,
and was held in great esteem for his philosophical essays. In Scotland
Sir George Mackenzie stood conspicuous for his "Institution of the Laws
of Scotland," and not less for various works of taste, as his "Aretina;
or, The Serious Romance," and his "Religio Stoici; or, The Virtuoso."
Burnet, the author of "The Sacred Theory of the Earth," also belongs
to this period. In his work the Biblical account of the origin of the
earth is made the foundation of a scientific treatise.

The Church at this period possessed great and eloquent men--Tillotson,
Sherlock, Barrow, South, Stillingfleet, and others. Their sermons
remain as storehouses of religious argument. They were nearly all
of the Arminian school. Barrow was, besides, one of the ablest
geometricians that have appeared.

[Illustration: GRESHAM COLLEGE, WHERE THE ROYAL SOCIETY WAS FIRST
HOUSED.]

During the period now under review a great step in the progress of
science was made by the foundation of the Royal Society. The honour of
originating this famous society belongs to Mr. Theodore Haak, a German,
who was resident in London. At his suggestion a number of scientific
gentlemen, including Dr. Goddard, a physician in Wood Street, but also
a preparer of lenses for telescopes; Dr. Wallis, the mathematician; Dr.
Wilkins, afterwards Bishop of Chester; Drs. Ent, Gisson, and Merrit,
and Mr. Samuel Foster, professor of astronomy in Gresham College.
These meetings began in 1645, and were held at one of their houses,
or in Gresham College, or at apartments in Cheapside. Though some
of these gentlemen were removed by promotion, others continued to
join it, as Boyle, Evelyn, Wren--afterwards Sir Christopher. In 1662
a royal charter was obtained, and in the following year additional
privileges were granted under a second charter. The first President
was Lord Brouncker, and the first council consisted of Mr.--afterwards
Lord--Brereton, Sir Kenelm Digby, Sir Robert Moray, Sir William Petty,
Sir Paul Neile, Messrs. Boyle, Slingsbey, Christopher and Matthew
Wren, Balle, Areskine, Oldenburg, Henshaw, and Dudley Palmer, and
Drs. Wilkins, Wallis, Timothy Clarke, and Ent. Balle was the first
treasurer, and Wilkins and Oldenburg the first secretaries. The Society
was pledged not to meddle with questions of theology or State, and
their chief subjects of notice were the physical sciences, anatomy,
medicine, astronomy, mathematics, navigation, statistics, chemistry,
magnetism, mechanics, and kindred topics. In the spring of the second
year the Society numbered a hundred and fifteen members; amongst them,
besides many noblemen and gentlemen of distinction, we find the names
of Aubrey, Dr. Barrow, Dryden, Cowley, Waller, and Sprat, afterwards
Bishop of Rochester. The Society commenced the publication of its
Transactions in 1665, which became a record of the progress of physical
and mathematical science for a long series of years.

During the short period over which the present review ranges--that
is, from the Restoration in 1660 to the Revolution in 1688, that is,
only twenty-eight years--some of the greatest discoveries in science
were made which have occurred in the history of the world; namely, the
discovery of the circulation of the blood by Dr. William Harvey; the
improvement of the tables of logarithms constructed by Napier; the
invention of fluxions by Newton, and the calculus of fluxions, or the
differential calculus, by Leibnitz; the discovery of the perfected
theory of gravitation, by Newton; the foundation of modern astronomy,
by Flamsteed; and the construction of a steam-engine by the Marquis of
Worcester, originally suggested by Solomon de Caus, a Frenchman.

Napier (_b._ 1550; _d._ 1617) published his tables of Logarithms in
1614, under the title of "Mirifici Logarithmorum Canonis Descriptio,"
and in the same or the next year he and his friend, Henry Briggs, gave
them their improved and perfect form, for from that time to the present
they have admitted of no further improvement. They came from the
hands of their author and his assisting friend perfect. The principle
of their construction Napier did not declare; but this important
revelation was made by Briggs and Napier's son in 1619. By these tables
Napier superseded the long and laborious arithmetical operations
which great calculators had previously to undergo, and which the most
simple trigonometrical operations demanded. Without this wonderful
aid even Newton could not have lived to formulate the principles that
he drew from, and established for ever upon, the material accumulated
by prior mathematicians. Napier in fact furnished by these tables a
scale by which not only the advantages which he proposed of shortening
arithmetical and trigonometrical labour were effected, but which
enabled his successors to weigh the atmosphere and take the altitudes
of mountains, compute the lengths and areas of all curves, and to
introduce a calculus by which the most unexpected results should
be reached. "By reducing to a few days the labour of many months,"
says Laplace, "it doubles, as it were, the life of an astronomer,
besides freeing him from the errors and disgust inseparable from long
calculations."

We are not, however, to suppose that Napier was the first who had a
perception of the nature of logarithms. In almost all grand discoveries
the man of genius stands upon the shoulders of preceding geniuses to
reach that culminating point which brings out the full discovery. In
very early ages it was known that if the terms of an arithmetical and
geometrical series were placed in juxtaposition, the multiplication,
division, involution, and evolution of the latter would answer to and
might actually be effected by a corresponding addition, subtraction,
multiplication, and division of the former. Archimedes employed this
principle in his "Arenarius," a treatise on the number of the sands.
Stifel, in his "Arithmetica Integra," published at Nürnberg in 1644,
exhibits a still clearer notion of the use of this principle; but the
merit of Napier was this--that whilst those who preceded him could
only apply the principle to certain numbers, he discovered the means
of applying it to all, and thus was enabled to construct and bring
to perfection at once his admirable tables. There was an attempt to
show that he had stolen the idea from Longomontanus, but that great
mathematician settles this matter by himself attributing the whole
invention to Napier.

Besides the Logarithms, Napier--or, to give him his full title, Lord
Napier of Merchiston--is also noted for his elegant theorems, called
his "Analogies," and his theorem of "the five circular parts," which
furnishes a ready solution of all the cases of right-angled spherical
triangles. He also invented what are called "Napier's Bones," to
facilitate the performance of multiplication and division; instruments
of such value, that had he not discovered the logarithms, they would
have, to a certain extent, supplied their place.

The discoveries of Sir Isaac Newton (_b._ 1642; _d._ 1727), however,
put the crown to the glories of this period. Their extent can only be
learnt by a perusal of his "Principia; or, Mathematical Principles of
Natural Philosophy," containing his complete theory of the laws of
the universe, based on the grand doctrine of Gravitation, of which
he published afterwards a popular view under the title of "De Mundi
Systemate," enunciating the truths contained in the third book of the
"Principia;" his "Optics," containing his theories of light and colour,
founded on a host of curious experiments; his "De Quadratura Curvarum,"
containing an exposition of his method of fluxions; his "Method of
Fluxions and Analysis by Infinite Series." A great many of those
discoveries were made known to the public through his communications
to the Royal Society. The announcement of his binomial theorem, by
which he was able to determine the area and rectification of curves,
the surface and contacts of the solids formed by their revolution and
the position of their centre of gravity--a theory of infinite avail
in his determination of the laws of the planetary bodies--is dated
1664, that of his "Method of Fluxions," 1665; but he did not claim
this till 1669. He professed to have written a tract on the subject in
1664, but he did not produce this tract till he had seen some of the
same results published in Mercator's "Logarithmotechnia," four years
afterwards. In 1666 he demonstrated the great law of gravitation, and
applied it to the planets, but was baffled in his attempts to apply
it to the moon through a false estimate of the earth's diameter. This
was corrected by Picard's measurement of an arc of the meridian, with
which Newton became acquainted in 1682, and then after sixteen years'
delay he completed his system. But his "Principia" was not published
collectively till 1687; his "Optics" till 1704, with his "De Quadratura
Curvarum."

Unparalleled as were the achievements of Newton, these were not
accomplished, any more than any other great performances, without
substantial hints and assistance from preceding or contemporary genius.
The very principle of gravitation had been pointed out by Robert Hooke,
and Newton was compelled to admit, and offered to publish a scholium
acknowledging the fact, that Hooke, Wren, and Halley had already
deduced this law--that the gravitation of the planets was as the curvic
square of the distance--from Kepler's second law of analogy between
the periodic times and the mean distances of the planets. Newton's
defenders say that he probably made this concession for the sake of
peace; but was Newton likely to surrender a great truth, vitally
affecting his fame for science and discovery, if there were not solid
grounds for it?

Still less to the credit of Newton was his conduct towards Leibnitz
in the dispute regarding the Differential Calculus. Leibnitz having
heard through Oldenburg that Newton had made discoveries as to the
measurement of tangents, in fact, as to his binomial theorem, and
as to fluxions, desired to have some account of them, and Newton,
through Oldenburg, communicated to Leibnitz his binomial theorem, but
concealed his knowledge of fluxions under a most abstruse anagram,
which was formed from the words, "_Data Equatione quotcunque fluentes
quantitates envolvente fluxiones invenire, et vice versâ_." It has
been well observed that if Leibnitz could draw any light from that
anagram, he must have possessed superhuman sagacity. Leibnitz, however,
having himself made most important discoveries in fluxions, at once
and candidly communicated the theory of what he called, and what is
still called, the differential calculus, to Newton. This, Newton, in a
scholium included in his "Principia," admitted to be a method hardly
differing from his own except in the form of words and symbols. Yet
in the third edition of the "Principia" he omitted this confession,
claimed the exclusive invention of the differential calculus for
himself, and branded Leibnitz as a plagiarist. The fact was, that
Leibnitz had gone a step beyond Newton. Newton had discovered fluxions,
but Leibnitz had discovered the fluxionary calculus, or, as he termed
it, the differential calculus.

Still more discreditable was the conduct of Newton to Flamsteed (_b._
1646; _d._ 1719). Flamsteed was the first Astronomer Royal. Charles
II. established an observatory at Greenwich, one of the best things
he ever did. The observatory was, in fact, the queen's house in
Greenwich Park, and Flamsteed was appointed Astronomical Observator,
with the magnificent salary of a hundred pounds a year, and not a
single instrument, not even a telescope. It was in vain that he applied
for instruments; and his appointment might have been a sinecure had
he not procured instruments at his own expense, and taught pupils to
maintain himself. But through all these difficulties he went on making
observations, and in time not only made a mass of the most valuable
lunar observations, but had made a map and catalogue of the stars,
such as there had never been before for completeness and accuracy.
His catalogue included three thousand three hundred stars, "whose
places were more accurate than any determined in the next fifty years,
and whose selection and nomenclature has served as a basis to every
catalogue since that time." Bailey, Flamsteed's biographer, claims--and
very justly claims--that the commencement of modern astronomy dates
from his observations, for no one would care to go beyond them to
compare any made in our day.

Newton was very intimate with Flamsteed, and with good cause, for
he depended on his supplying him with the necessary observations to
enable him to establish his lunar theory, and it is on evidence that
Flamsteed furnished him with every lunar observation that he made. When
Flamsteed had completed his catalogue, he proposed to publish it, and
Prince George of Denmark, knowing that Flamsteed had expended on his
instruments two thousand pounds more than his salary, offered to pay
for the printing. A committee, consisting of Newton, Sir Christopher
Wren, Dr. Arbuthnot, Dr. Gregory, and Mr. Roberts, was appointed to
superintend this publication. The whole story, based on letters and
documents of the time found at Greenwich observatory, is too long to
be detailed here; but the upshot of it is, that the catalogue and
observations of Flamsteed were printed and published, not as his own,
but as those of Halley. In vain did Flamsteed protest against this
most scandalous deed. Newton and his associates were strong in the
favour of the queen and Halifax, and Newton used the most opprobrious
language to the man by whose labours he had so greatly benefited, and
whom he had now helped to rob of his dearest possession--his fame.
The softest name that he gave him was that of "puppy." Flamsteed
could obtain no redress--though they had broken his seal to come at
his catalogue--till after the death of Queen Anne and Halifax, when
he was enabled to get possession of the remainder of the books called
Halley's, styled, "Historia Celestis libri duo." He immediately began
preparations for publishing them himself, and demanded his MSS. from
Newton, who refused, and was sued for them by Flamsteed. In the
meantime, to avoid being compelled to give up the MSS. to the rightful
owner, Newton handed them over to Halley! Every insult was offered to
Flamsteed. He was summoned before the Royal Society to answer whether
he had his instruments in order, a matter in which the Society had no
authority, and what made the matter more atrocious, the instruments
were Flamsteed's own. Newton even twitted Flamsteed with his one
hundred pounds a year salary, at which Flamsteed indignantly reminded
him that he had been receiving three hundred pounds a year himself
ever since he came to London. Flamsteed's work was not completed till
after his death, when it appeared under the name of "Historia Cœlestis
Britannica."

It is difficult to conceive more overbearing, unjust, and unworthy
proceedings than those of Newton against Flamsteed. Sir David Brewster,
in his "Life of Newton," endeavoured to defend him by asserting that
Flamsteed did not appreciate Newton's theory; as if Flamsteed was
not quite at liberty to have his own opinion, an opinion shared by
many at the time, and which theory, in the first edition of the
"Principia," the only one then out, was in some respects grossly
incorrect--"rejected," as Flamsteed remarked, "by the heavens."
Brewster also urged that Flamsteed showed unwillingness to furnish
Newton with the requisite lunar observations. He was under no
obligation whatever to do so; yet, as proved, he furnished him with all
he had made. It is contended also that the committee had a right to
break the seal of Flamsteed to get at his catalogue--an assertion than
which nothing can be more immoral.

On the whole view of this case, as it rests on broad facts, we are
compelled, in justice between man and man, to declare our opinion that
Flamsteed was not only one of the most illustrious astronomers which
England has ever produced, but also one of the most ill-used of men;
and without derogating an iota from the scientific merits of Sir Isaac
Newton, it is clear, from his conduct to both Leibnitz and Flamsteed,
that he adds another proof to that of Bacon, that intellectual
greatness and moral greatness do not necessarily reside in the same
mind.

Amongst the other men of mathematical note in this period we may
mention Henry Briggs, the coadjutor of Napier. His "Trigonometrica
Britannica" showed that he had had a near view of the binomial theorem
afterwards discovered by Newton. This work was published after his
death by his friend, Henry Gellibrand, also an able mathematician.
Thomas Harriott, author of a work on algebra--"Artis Analyticæ
Praxis"--is said to have discovered the solar spots before Galileo,
and the satellites of Jupiter only a few days after Galileo. Jeremiah
Horrocks was beforehand with Newton in the theory of the lunar motions,
which Newton afterwards demonstrated to be the necessary consequence
of gravitation. Dr. Wallis, Crabtree, Gascoigne, Milbourn, Shakerley,
and Gunter--the author of Gunter's Scale--were all men of high merit
in those branches of science. Barrow we have already mentioned as
a distinguished geometrician as well as a theologian. He was only
excelled in optics by Newton himself; and in his "Sectiones Geometricæ"
he nearly anticipated Newton's principle of fluxions. James Gregory,
professor of mathematics at Edinburgh, the first constructor of a
reflecting telescope; and his nephew, David Gregory, of Oxford; John
Collins, author of various philosophical works and papers; Roger Cotes,
author of "Harmonia Mensurarum," etc.; and Dr. Brook Taylor, author of
"Methodus Incrementorum," were all substantial contributors to the
higher sciences at this era. Halley, whose name occurs so unfavourably
in the affair with Flamsteed, succeeded him as Astronomer Royal, and is
noted as being the first to find out the exact return of a comet which
bears his name, and for his catalogue of the southern stars, published
in 1679. Besides his profound astronomical talents, he added in various
ways to the knowledge of the time. He was the first to construct tables
of mortality; introduced improvements in the diving-bell; and wrote
treatises on the variations of the compass, on the trade winds, and
other subjects.

[Illustration: SIR ISAAC NEWTON.]

In pneumatics and chemistry the Honourable Robert Boyle made some
discoveries, and considerably improved the air-pump; and Robert Hooke,
already mentioned as one of the earliest theorists of gravitation,
also had a pretty clear notion of the gas now termed oxygen. Thomas
Sydenham is a great name in medicine of this time; and the department
of natural history took a new start under the hands of Ray, Willoughby,
Lester, and others. Ray published his "Historia Plantarum," and edited
Willoughby's works on birds and fishes. Conchology was advanced by
Martin Lester, and Woodward opened up the new region of mineralogy. The
two most extraordinary discoveries, however, next to those of Newton,
were those of the circulation of the blood by Harvey (_b._ 1578; _d._
1657), and of the steam-engine by Solomon de Caus, introduced into
England by the Marquis of Worcester (_b._ 1601; _d._ 1667).

The theory of the circulation of the blood, like almost every other
great theory founded on fact, was not left for Harvey to think out _ab
origine_. That the blood flowed from the heart to the extremities was
known to the ancients, and stated by Aristotle. Galen even had argued,
from the discovery of valves in the pulmonary artery, that the blood
was also returned to the heart. Servetus, of Geneva, the same who was
put to death for heresy, had demonstrated the circulation through the
lungs, and again this theory had been propounded by Rualdus Columbus
in 1559. In 1571 Cæsalpinus of Arezzo came still nearer to the true
theory, from observing the swelling of veins below a ligature--thence
inferring that the blood flowed from the extremities as well as to
them. It is clear, therefore, that all but positive demonstration was
arrived at when Harvey appeared. But though this demonstration was
all that was now needed, it was a work of no ordinary courage and
genius. The few facts known were overlaid by such a mass of absurd
and contradictory notions amongst medical men, that nothing but the
nicest and completest experiments could establish the truth. This
Harvey undertook to do, and accomplished it. He informed Boyle, as we
learn from that philosopher's "Treatise on Final Causes," that the
idea of the true circulation was first suggested to him when studying
under Fabricius Aquapendente, at Padua, by noticing the valves in the
veins--the same that had attracted the attention of Galen. To ascertain
the fact, he made numerous accurate experiments on both dead and living
animals, and the result was the clearest proof of the fact that the
blood is propelled from the heart through the arteries, and returned
to it through the veins. Besides this, his experiments threw a flood
of light on the action of the heart, on its diastolic and systolic
functions, as observed both in adult subjects and in the fœtus; on the
true action of the lungs on the blood, and other important points.
His completed views were so opposed to the notions of the Faculty
at the time, that a stupendous prejudice was raised against him,
and his practice fell off greatly from the clamour which was raised
against what his fellow-practitioners called his wild speculations.
It is a well-known fact that not one medical man who had passed his
fortieth year ever admitted the discovery of Harvey. The most famous
anatomists abroad joined in the outcry against his theory. Primrosius,
Parisanus, Riolanus, professors of anatomy at Paris, and Plempius,
professor at Louvain, were violent against it. Harvey very modestly
permitted the storm to blow, certain that a truth built on positive
facts would in the end prevail. He refused to answer the attacks of any
one but Riolanus; but his friend, Dr. Ent, ably wielded the pen in
his defence, and Harvey had the pleasure to see Plempius before long
confess himself a convert, and many others then followed.

Besides Harvey's great discovery, he made many other anatomical
investigations with great care and ability, and especially on a vital
subject, detailed in his treatise "De Generatione." His merits became
so fully acknowledged that he was elected President of the College of
Physicians.

But the gifted men of this age who could determine the laws of worlds,
and systems of worlds, and the vital principles of the living body,
failed to perceive the wondrous capabilities of another invention
destined to revolutionise society at a later day. The Marquis of
Worcester, whom we have seen figuring conspicuously as the Earl of
Glamorgan, in the civil strife of Charles I.'s reign, constructed a
steam-engine--a very rude one, of course--which Sorbiere, a Frenchman,
saw at work at his lordship's house at Vauxhall in 1663. It was capable
of throwing up water to a great height. This engine is described by the
marquis in his "Century of Inventions," published this same year, 1663.
It is the sixty-eighth in the catalogue, and entitled "An admirable and
most forcible way to drive up water by fire." He used a cannon for his
boiler, and says he has seen "water run like a constant fountain-stream
forty feet high. One vessel of water rarefied by fire driveth up forty
of cold water."

The marquis had learned this invention from the work of a Frenchman,
Solomon de Caus, entitled "Les Raisons des Forces Mouvantes." This De
Caus had travelled in England, and had importuned his own countrymen
to examine what he deemed a wonderful discovery--the power of steam;
but, like Thomas Gray, when urging on England a system of railroads, he
was treated as a bore and a maniac. The marquis found De Caus actually
confined in the Bicêtre in Paris as a madman, for wanting to convince
his countrymen of the marvellous powers of steam. The marquis's own
notion appeared to be that the engine might be employed chiefly for
the raising of water--a trait attributed to him by Stuart, in his
"Anecdotes of Steam-Engines," published in 1651, in which the writer
mentions a little engine at work at his house in Lambeth, which "might
be applied to draw or hale ships, boates, etc., up rivers against the
stream; to draw carts, wagons, etc., as fast without cattel; to draw
the plough without cattel, to the same dispatch, if need be."

The views of the marquis were thus rapidly expanding on the subject;
and it is wonderful that the invention should have been suffered to
sleep a century and a half longer. Still more wonderful is it that the
powers of steam slept so long, when, according to Gibbon, the architect
of St. Sophia, Constantinople, centuries ago, was so well aware of it
that he used to shake the house of his neighbour, an enemy of his, with
steam machinery.

Of architecture there was none belonging to this period. The glorious
old Gothic had closed for the time its career, and even the most
eminent architects despised it. Inigo Jones introduced an Italian
style, and committed the atrocity of erecting Grecian screens in
Gothic cathedrals; and we shall find Wren, the architect of the noble
classical fabric of St. Paul's, equally incapable of perceiving the
beauty of Gothic. To him it was barbarian.

With Charles II. came in French taste, and almost all the professors of
painting, sculpture, and engraving were foreigners. The whole art of
painting was expended in portraiture and on the decorations of walls
and ceilings after the fashion of Le Brun, but not with his genius.
Verrio and Sir Peter Lely engrossed the patronage of the Court, and the
admiration of the public.

Antonio Verrio, a Neapolitan painter, who transferred himself to
France and then to England, covered immense spaces of wall and
ceiling at Windsor Castle and other places with his gods, goddesses,
and similar figures, pouring them out, as Walpole observes, without
much invention and as little taste, but certainly with a great show
of colour. He painted most of the ceilings at Windsor, one side of
the Hall of St. George and the chapel, most of which works are now
destroyed. On the ceiling of St. George's Hall he drew Ashley Cooper,
Earl of Shaftesbury, as Faction dispersing libels; and the housekeeper,
Mrs. Marriott, as Fury, because she had offended him. He was paid an
enormous sum for these works, and spent it in ostentation. He had a
house in St. James's Park, and was also master gardener to the king.
Walpole gives an extraordinary example of his freedom in demanding
money of the king. He had just received a thousand pounds when he
appeared at Court, and found Charles in such a circle that he could
not approach him; but, nothing daunted, he called out to him that
he desired to speak to him. Being asked what he wanted, he replied,
"Money." The king smiled, and reminded him of the thousand pounds just
had. "Yes," said he, "but pedlars and painters cannot give long credit;
that was soon paid away, and I have no gold left." "At that rate,"
said Charles, "you would spend more than I do." "True," replied the
impudent foreigner; "but does your majesty keep an open table as I do?"

Being a Tory, at the Revolution he refused to paint for King William;
but was employed by the Earl of Exeter at Burleigh House, and the Earl
of Devonshire, at Chatsworth, where plenty of his works remain. Dr.
Waagen says he received more from Lord Exeter alone than Raphael or
Michael Angelo received for all their immortal works. The earl paid
him for twelve years one thousand five hundred pounds a year--that
is, eighteen thousand pounds, besides his keep and equipage at his
disposal. At length the earl persuaded him to work for King William at
Hampton Court, where, besides other things, he painted the staircase so
badly that he was suspected to have done it on purpose.

In the wake of Verrio came Jacques Rousseau and Charles de la
Fosse, the painters of the dome of the Invalides in Paris. Some few
Englishmen, too, were employed in fresco-painting. Among them were
Isaac Fuller, remains of whose performance may be seen in the dome
of St. Mary Abchurch, in London; John Freeman, a scene painter; and
Robert Streater, a man of superior skill, who painted the ceiling of
the theatre at Oxford, and many other ceilings, besides historical
subjects, and even still life.

Lely, the painter of Charles's beauties, now at Hampton Court, was
a native of Germany, but had studied chiefly in Holland, where
Charles is supposed to have met with him. His ladies are endowed with
remarkable beauty and grace, but there is a certain likeness running
through them all, especially in the complexion, the tone and tint of
the flesh, as well as the disposal of the drapery, which gives one
the inevitable impression that they are to a great degree got up, and
made rather after his peculiar model than their own real appearance.
However, whether they are striking likenesses or not, they are
beautiful pictures. His draperies are arranged in broad folds, and he
relieves his figures by a landscape background, which made Walpole
say, "His nymphs trail fringes and embroidery through meadows and
purling streams." The essence of Lely's painting is Court artifice.
It is showy, affected, and meretricious. Besides his Court portraits
he occasionally attempted the historic, one of the best of this kind
which he executed being "Susannah and the Elders," at Burleigh House.
Amongst a crowd of foreigners who sought to share Sir Peter Lely's
popularity were Henry Gascar, James Huysman, and Sunman, from the
Netherlands--all excellent portrait painters. Netscher also came to
England for a time; and William Wissing, of Amsterdam, an admirable
artist, succeeded Lely at his death, and was only eclipsed by the
rising fame of Kneller, a German, who afterwards became King William's
Court painter. Of the French school was Philip Duval, a pupil of the
celebrated Le Brun.

[Illustration: EVELYN "DISCOVERING" GRINLING GIBBONS. (_See p._ 372.)]

Amongst native portrait painters may be mentioned Michael Wright, a
Scotsman, who painted the judges for the Guildhall of London; though he
is more noted for his portrait of Lacy, the actor, in three characters;
of Henry Anderton, a pupil of Streater's, who became very popular; of
John Greenhill, and Thomas Flatman, the last being also a poet of some
note.

A number of Dutch and Flemish painters of still life were also employed
in England at this period, of whom the most celebrated were Vansoon,
Hoogstraten, Roestraten, and Varelst, who also attempted portraiture.
There were also Abraham Hondius, animal painter, and Danker, Vosterman,
Griffier, Lancrinck, and the two Vanderveldes, landscape painters. The
Vanderveldes were justly in high esteem; Lancrinck was the painter of
Lely's backgrounds.

The two great sculptors were Caius Gabriel Cibber, a native of
Holstein, and Grinling Gibbons, whom Macaulay calls a Dutchman, but
who, though supposed to be of Dutch extraction, was an Englishman, born
in Spur Alley, London. Cibber--who was the father of Colley Cibber,
afterwards Poet Laureate, and immortalised by Pope in the "Dunciad"--is
now chiefly known by his two figures of "Raging" and "Melancholy
Madness," which adorned the principal gate of old Bethlehem Hospital,
and were afterwards removed to South Kensington--works of real genius.
He also erected the bas-reliefs on the pedestal of the London Monument,
and did much work at Chatsworth.

Grinling Gibbons was found by John Evelyn in a cottage at Deptford,
carving his celebrated "Stoning of St. Stephen," after Tintoretto, and
by him introduced at Court. He executed a marble statue of Charles II.
for the area of the Royal Exchange, and another in bronze of James II.
for the garden at the back of Whitehall, which fixed his high merit as
a sculptor; but his unrivalled genius in carving soon drew him from
sculpture, and he became extensively employed at Windsor, Chatsworth,
Petworth, and other great houses, carving flowers, feathers, foliage,
and like ornaments, which rival in wood the lightness and accuracy of
nature. In the chapel at Windsor he executed abundance of carving of
doves, pelicans, palm-branches, etc. At St. Paul's he did much of the
foliage and festoons of the stalls and the side aisles of the choir.
At Chatsworth there are feathers in lime-wood that rival those of the
living goose; and he there executed in wood a point-lace cravat of
marvellous delicacy. At Southwick, in Hants, he embellished an entire
gallery, and a room at Petworth, which is generally regarded as amongst
his very finest performances.

Engraving at this era fell also greatly into the hands of foreigners.
Loggan, Booteling, Valet, Hollar, and Vanderbank were amongst the
chief; but there were two Englishmen who were not less patronised by
their countrymen. Robert White was a pupil of Loggan's, and, like his
master, excelled in portraits. Walpole enumerates two hundred and
fifty-five works of this artist, many of them heads drawn by himself,
and striking likenesses. But William Faithorne was unquestionably at
the head of his profession. Faithorne in his youth fought on the royal
side, and was taken by Cromwell at the siege of Basing House along with
Hollar. Hollar left England during the Commonwealth, and resided at
Antwerp, where he executed his fine portraits from Leonardo da Vinci,
Holbein, and other great masters. On the Restoration he returned to
England, and did the plates in Dugdale's "Monasticon," "History of
St. Paul's," and "Antiquities of Warwickshire," and in Thoroton's
"Nottinghamshire;" and he made drawings of the town and fortress of
Tangier for Charles, which he engraved, some of these drawings still
remaining in the British Museum. Faithorne took refuge in France, and
there studied under Nanteuil, and acquired a force, freedom, richness,
and delicacy in portrait engraving which were unequalled in his own
time, and have scarcely been surpassed in ours. He drew also in crayons.

The art of mezzotint was introduced at this period by Prince Rupert,
who was long supposed to have invented it; this, however, has since
then been doubted; but its introduction by him is certain; and it
became so much cultivated as to become almost exclusively an English
art.

The coins of this period were the work of the Roteri family. Of these
there were John and Norbert (his son), Joseph and Philip. Their father
was a Dutch banker, who had obliged Charles during his exile by the
loan of money, on condition that, in case of restoration, he should
employ his sons. They were men of much taste and skill, as their coins
show, though by no means equal to Simon, the coiner of Cromwell.
They, however, introduced some decided improvements into our coin,
particularly that of graining or letters on the rims of the coin.
Charles called in all the Commonwealth money, and coined fresh. In 1662
the gold coin called a guinea was first invented, from gold brought
from the coast of Guinea, and bore the stamp of an elephant under the
king's head, in honour of the African company which imported it. In
the last year of Charles's reign he coined farthings of tin, with only
a bit of copper in the middle. The figure of Britannia still retained
on our copper coinage was first introduced in the copper coinage of
Charles (_see p._ 205), and was modelled by Philip Roteri from Miss
Stuart, afterwards Duchess of Richmond, of whom Charles was deeply
enamoured, much to the scandal of all decent subjects.

James II. followed the fashion of Charles in coining tin halfpence and
farthings with copper centres. After his abdication he was reduced in
Ireland to the necessity of coining money out of old brass cannon, and
pots and pans, and, when these failed, out of pewter.

With the Restoration came back mirth and music, which had been banished
by the Puritans from both churches and private houses. However, it
is but just to except Cromwell and Milton from censure. Cromwell was
especially fond of the organ, and gave concerts in his own house when
at the head of the Government. Milton, as might be supposed from
his poetical nature, and the solemn music of his verse, was equally
attached to harmony of sounds. He was the friend of Henry Lawes, one of
the greatest composers of the time, and addressed to him the well-known
sonnet on the publication of his airs, beginning

"Harry, whose tuneful and well-measur'd song
First taught our English music how to span
Words with just note and accent."

But perhaps the Royalists were all the more musical on their return
to power to mark their contempt of the gloomy Puritans, and music
burst forth in church and chapel, in concert, and theatre, and private
house with redoubled energy. The theatres and operas did not delay to
draw the public by the charms of music as well as of representation.
Even during the latter years of the Commonwealth Sir William Davenant
opened a kind of theatre under the name of masque and concert, and
enlivened it by music. The Royalists at Oxford during the time Charles
I.'s Court was there, held weekly musical parties with the members of
the University; and no sooner was the Commonwealth at an end than the
heads of houses, fellows, and other gentlemen renewed these parties,
and furnished themselves with all necessary instruments, and the
compositions of the best masters. But what marks the musical _furore_
of this period more than all was the flocking of the aristocracy and
the finest musical performers to the miserable house of a dealer in
coal-dust in Clerkenwell, where musical parties were held. "It was,"
says Dr. John Hawkins, "in Aylesbury Street, Clerkenwell. The room
of the performance was over the coal-shop; and, strange to tell, Tom
Britton's concert was the weekly resort of the old, the young, the
gay, the fair of all ranks, including the highest order of nobility."
Dr. Pepusch and frequently Handel played the harpsichord there--though
this must have been at a later period, for he did not arrive in England
till 1710. Mr. Needler, Accountant-General of the Excise; Hughes the
poet, Wollaston the painter, and many other amateurs were among the
performers. Walpole says Britton took money from his visitors, but
Hawkins entirely denies it.

The example of Tom Britton was contagious, and similar places of
musical entertainment, but on the principle of professional emolument,
were soon opened east and west. Amongst the first of these was Sadler's
Wells.

One of the finest composers for the theatre and opera was Matthew Lock.
He was appointed Composer in Ordinary to Charles II., and composed a
church service and some anthems; but he was much more famous for his
setting of songs, and the music to plays. He wrote that to Davenant's
alteration of "Macbeth," to Shadwell's opera, "Psyche," and various
other dramas. He received a salary of two hundred pounds a year as
Director of the King's Music. He became a convert to Catholicism, and
was made Organist to Catherine, the queen of Charles. But the rage for
everything French was growing, and Lock was succeeded in his office by
a Frenchman, Cambert, who produced an English opera; and he by Louis
Grabut, another Frenchman, who set Dryden's "Albion and Albanius," a
satire on Shaftesbury--a poor performance. After Charles quarrelled
with Louis XIV., Italian taste superseded the French, and Italian music
and musicians were patronised. Amongst the latter Nicola Matteis was a
popular violinist.

But that which possessed the most decided merit was the church music
of this period. It was not that which one would have expected in the
reign of Charles II., but we must do him the justice to say that he
seems to have encouraged greatly the musical services of the Church.
He united all the distinguished composers and performers, to assist in
restoring this service to its former glory; and, amongst the survivors
of his father's reign, reappeared Dr. Child, Dr. Christopher Gibbons,
Dr. Rogers, Dr. Wilson, Henry Lawes, Milton's friend, Byrne, Lowe, and
Cook, commonly called Captain Cook, from his having borne a commission
in the Royalist army. Cook was made Master of the Children of the
Choir, in the Royal Chapel; Child, Gibbons, and Lowe, Organists; Lawes,
Clerk of the Cheque; Rogers, Organist at Eton; Byrne, Organist at St.
Paul's; and Wilson was attached to the service in Westminster Abbey.

By these means the church musical service was soon raised to a high
pitch of excellence; a spirit was diffused through the whole kingdom
from the king's chapel, and the cathedral services became as fine
as ever. Captain Cook trained his boy-choristers to admiration, and
out of them arose some of the best composers of sacred music that
England possesses. Amongst them are Pelham Humphrey, Michael Wise,
John Blow, and, superior to them all, Henry Purcell. Some of these
produced anthems whilst mere striplings, which still remain in use.
Amongst these Pelham Humphrey greatly distinguished himself; and was,
therefore, sent by Charles to Paris, to study under the famous Lulli,
and then made gentleman of his chapel. At the death of Cook, his
master, he succeeded to his office. Michael Wise became for a time,
Organist of Salisbury Cathedral, but returned to the Royal Chapel as
one of the gentlemen. His anthems are still greatly admired. Blow
succeeded Humphrey as Master of the Children, and was Organist of
Westminster Abbey. He published various compositions, both sacred and
secular, some of which are yet in much esteem, while others have fallen
into neglect.

But the musical master of the age was Henry Purcell (_b._ 1658; _d._
1695), organist of Westminster Abbey, and afterwards of the king's
chapel. His sacred music, especially his "Te Deum" and "Jubilate,"
has never been surpassed. Dr. Burney declared him superior to all
the foreign composers of the day--Carissimi, Stradella, Scarlatti,
Keiser, Lulli, and Rameau; but others do not except any composers of
any previous age. In his secular music he again surpassed himself. His
music of the drama is voluminous. He set the songs in Nahum Tate's
"Dido;" the music for Lee's "Theodosius;" that for the "Tempest,"
as altered by Dryden, which is still heard with delight; that for
the "Prophetess," altered by Dryden and Betterton, from Beaumont
and Fletcher; the songs of Dryden's "King Arthur," in which are the
lovely air "Fairest Isle," the charming duet "Two Daughters of this
Aged Stream are We," and the inimitable frost-scene. He furnished the
music for Howard's and Dryden's "Indian Queen." In Dryden's altered
"Boadicea," the duet and chorus "To Arms," and the air "Britons, strike
home," are still heard with acclamations on all occasions of patriotic
excitement. Besides these he wrote airs, overtures, and set tunes
for numerous other dramas, as Dryden's and Lee's "Timon of Athens,"
"Œdipus," "The Fairy Queen," altered from the "Midsummer Night's
Dream," and Dryden's "Tyrannic Love." He wrote many odes, glees,
catches, rounds, many single songs and duets, twelve sonatas for two
violins and a bass, etc. The air of "Lillibullero" is attributed to
him. His widow published many of these after his death, in two folio
volumes called "Orpheus Britannicus." The music of Purcell is national
property, and, in spite of more recent genius, will long continue to be
heard with rapture.

Notwithstanding Charles II.'s restoration of church music, he
endeavoured to degrade it by the introduction of French customs, and
at one time introduced a band of twenty-four fiddlers into his chapel,
in imitation of Louis XIV. Tom D'Urfey ridiculed it in the song,
"Four-and-twenty Fiddlers all in a Row;" and Evelyn describes his
disgust at witnessing this strange sight, "more fit for a tavern or
playhouse than a church." The public feeling, indeed, soon caused the
king to withdraw the Gallic innovation.

Amongst the musical productions of this time we may note Blow's
"Amphion Anglicus," Roger North's "Memoir of Music," still in
manuscript; Sir Francis North's "Philosophical Essay on Music," Lord
Brouncker's translation of Descartes' "Musicæ Compendium." Marsh,
Archbishop of Armagh, was the first to treat acoustics methodically,
in a paper in the "Philosophical Transactions." Dr. Wallis, one of the
founders of the Royal Society, and an eminent mathematician, wrote much
in the "Philosophical Transactions" on musical subjects, and published
an edition of "Ptolemy's Harmonies." Thomas Mace, John Birchensha,
Christopher Simpson, and John Playford are musical authors of that age.

The furniture of this period had the general characteristics of the
last age. Cane backs and seats began to be used in chairs, and the
beautiful marqueterie work adorned tables, cabinets, clock-cases,
wardrobes, and other rich pieces of furniture. The Louis Quatorze
style, with its rich sweeps and abundance of carving and gilding,
began to appear in England, but did not attain to general use till a
later period. The floors began to be covered with gay-coloured mats
and carpets, but the richest pieces of Turkey carpet were still more
frequently used for table-covers. Oil-cloth was now introduced from
Germany, and manufactured in London. The Gobelins tapestry manufactory
was established in France in 1677, and towards the end of this period
the walls of the great mansions of England were covered with the
products of its looms.

The costume of gentlemen underwent rapid and various metamorphoses in
Charles II.'s time. From the rich and elegant costume of Charles I. it
degenerated first into one with an exceedingly short doublet, without
any under waistcoat, loose petticoat breeches, with long drooping lace
ruffles at the knee. This costume, however, still retained much of the
Vandyke style. It had the high-crowned hat and plume of feathers, the
falling lace collar, and the natural hair. But soon came the monstrous
peruke, or periwig, as the word was corrupted to in England, copied
from the fashion of the Court of Louis XIV., which superseded the
natural hair in both men and women, the women appearing to have adopted
it first. Then followed the square, long coat, and huge jack-boots,
and cocked hat, which became the general dress of the next century.
False hair had been worn by both sexes in the times of Elizabeth and
James I., but never to the same preposterous extent as now. Charles
II., though adopting the periwig fashion himself, and thus confirming
it, yet refused to allow the clergy to use it. He wrote a letter to the
University of Cambridge, ordering the clergy neither to wear periwigs,
nor smoke tobacco, nor read their sermons; and, on a fellow of Clare
Hall venturing to preach before him in a wig and holland sleeves, he
ordered the statutes concerning decency of apparel to be put in force
against him and similar offenders.

The high-crowned hat or broad-leaved sombrero of Spain not harmonising
well with the periwig, the crown was suddenly lowered, the brim turned
up, and a drooping feather thrown backwards over it. The petticoat
breeches came in as early as 1658; and, in the following year, Randal
Holmes thus describes a gentleman's dress:--"A short-waisted doublet
and petticoat breeches, the lining being lower than the breeches, is
tied above the knees; the breeches are ornamented with ribands up to
the pocket, and half their breadth upon the thigh. The waistband is
set round with ribands, and the shirt hanging out over them." These
petticoat breeches soon grew into actual skirts, and the doublet or
jacket, which at the beginning of the reign scarcely came below the
breast, towards the end of it was so elongated that it was an actual
coat, and had buttons and buttonholes all down the front.

Along with a particular costume described by Evelyn, which Charles
adopted in 1666, consisting of a long close vest of black cloth or
velvet pinked with white satin; a loose surcoat over it of an Oriental
character, and instead of shoes and stockings, buskins or brodequins;
he also wore small buckles instead of shoestrings. Charles was so proud
of this dress that he vowed he would never wear any other; but it did
not last long, and buckles did not become the general fashion till the
reign of Queen Anne.

Long and short kersey stockings were an article of export in this
period, as well as stockings of leather, silk, or woollen, and worsted
for men and children. Socks also occur under the name of "the lower end
of stockings." Amongst the imports were hose of crewel, called Mantua
hose, and stockings of wadmal. Neckcloths or cravats of Brussels and
Flanders lace were worn towards the end of the "Merry Monarch's" reign,
and tied in a knot under the chin, the ends hanging down square.

The costume of Knights of the Garter assumed its present shape, the cap
of estate, with its ostrich and heron plume, and the broad blue ribbon
worn over the left shoulder and brought under the right arm, where
the jewel or lesser George hangs, being introduced just before the
publication of Ashmole's "History of the Order." The baron's coronet
dates from this reign.

The costume of James II.'s reign varied little from that of Charles.
The hats indeed assumed various cocks, according to the fancy of some
leader or party. One cock was called the Monmouth cock.

The ladies in the voluptuous reign of Charles II. abandoned the
straight-laced dresses with the straight-laced manners of their Puritan
predecessors. Bare bosoms and bare arms to the elbows were displayed,
and the hair, confined only by a single bandeau of pearls, or adorned
by a single rose, fell in graceful profusion upon their snowy necks.
The rounded arm reclined on the rich satin petticoat; whilst the gown
of the same rich material extended its voluminous train behind. Lely's
portraits are not to be regarded as representing the strict costume of
the age, but they give us its spirit--a studied negligence, an elegant
_déshabillé_. The starched ruff, the steeple-crowned hat, the rigid
stomacher, and the stately farthingale were, however, long retained by
less fashionable dames of the country; and when the ruff was discarded,
a rich lace tippet veiled the breast. The women of ordinary rank also
still retained much of this costume, with the hood and tippet.

In their riding habits the ladies imitated the costume of the men as
nearly as they could. Evelyn says that he saw the queen in September,
1666, going to take the air "in her cavalier riding-habit, hat, and
feathers, and horseman's coat." This seems to be a very rational dress
for the occasion, yet the sight did not please Mr. Pepys, for he
remarks about the same time--"Walking in the galleries at Whitehall,
I find the ladies of honour dressed in their riding garbs, with coats
and doublets, with deep skirts--just for all the world like men, and
buttoned in their doublets up to the breast, with periwigs and with
hats. So that only for a long petticoat dragging under their men's
coats, nobody could take them for women in any point whatever, which
was an odd sight, and a sight that did not please me."

Yet Mrs. Stuart, afterwards Duchess of Richmond, _did_ please
him:--"But, above all, Mrs. Stuart, in her dress, with her hat cocked
and a rich plume, with her sweet eye, and little Roman nose, and
excellent taille, is now the greatest beauty I ever saw, I think, in my
life."

The military costume of the period remained much the same as during
the civil wars and Commonwealth; but vambraces were abandoned by the
arquebusiers, and defensive armour was gradually falling into disuse.
The helmet and corset, or cuirass, or the gorget alone, worn over a
buff coat, formed all the defence of steel worn by the officers at this
period. "The arms, offensive and defensive," says the statute of the
13th and 14th of Charles II., "are to be as follows:--The defensive
armour of the Cavalry to consist of a back, breast, and pot, and the
breast and pot to be pistol-proof. The offensive arms a sword, and case
of pistols, the barrels whereof are not to be under fourteen inches
in length. For the Foot, a musketeer is ordered to have a musket, the
barrel not under three feet in length; a collar of bandeliers, with a
sword. Pikemen to be armed with a pike of ash, sixteen feet long, with
a back, breast, head-piece, and sword."

[Illustration: COSTUMES OF THE TIME OF CHARLES II.]

The familiar names of several of the regiments of the British army
commence from Charles II.'s reign. The Life Guards were raised in
1661--composed and treated, however, like the Gardes du Corps of the
French,--being principally gentlemen of families of distinction, who
themselves, or their fathers, had fought in the Civil War. In the same
year the Blues were embodied, and called the Oxford Blues, from their
first commander, Aubrey, Earl of Oxford. The Coldstream Guards date
their formation from 1660, and two regiments were added to the one
raised about ten years previously by General Monk at Coldstream, on the
borders of Scotland. To these were added the 1st Royal Scots, brought
over from France at the Restoration; the 2nd, or Queen's, raised in
1661; the 3rd, or Old Buffs, so named from their accoutrements being
composed of buffalo leather, embodied in 1665; the Scottish Fusiliers,
afterwards the 21st, raised in 1678, and so called from their carrying
the fusil, invented in France in 1630--being a firelock lighter than
the musket, but about the same length; and the 4th, or King's Own,
raised in 1680.

During this reign the bayonet--so called from Bayonne, where it was
invented--was sometimes three-edged, sometimes flat, with a wooden hilt
like a dagger, and was screwed or merely stuck into the muzzle of the
gun. The bayonet superseded the rapier attached to the musket-rest in
James's reign. Even then the bayonet was a far inferior weapon to what
it subsequently became, as it had to be removed to fire and charge
again. The Grenadiers were introduced in 1678, and were so called
from being practised to fling hand grenades, each man having a pouch
full. To these James added, in 1685, the 1st, or King's regiment of
Dragoon Guards, the 2nd, or Queen's Dragoon Guards, and the 5th and 7th
regiments, called the Royal Fusiliers; and in 1688, the year of the
Revolution, the 23rd, or Welsh Fusiliers, were raised.

We need not repeat what has been so frequently stated in these pages
about the profligacy of the Court and aristocracy in Charles II.'s
reign, which soon polluted the spirit of the greater part of the
country. However harsh and repulsive were the manners and social maxims
of the Puritans, they were infinitely preferable to the licentiousness
and blasphemy of the Cavaliers, who mistook vulgarity and obscenity
for gentility. Notwithstanding the traditionary feeling left by the
Royalist writers of these times, and too faithfully taken up by such
writers as Sir Walter Scott, it is now beginning to be perceived
that the Cavaliers were, in reality, the vulgar of the age. If to
swear, gamble, bully, murder, and use the most indecent language, and
lead the most indecent lives, be marks of vulgarity, these were the
distinctive marks of too many of the Cavaliers. The Puritans, with
all their acerbity and intolerance, had a reverence for sound and
Christian principles at the core of their system. Virtue and moral
piety were their admiration, however rudely they demonstrated it.
But the Cavaliers gloried in every opposite vice the more, because
the Puritans, whom they despised, denounced them. We have seen the
spirit of private assassination which animated them, and led them to
the murder of Dorislaus, the Commonwealth ambassador in Holland; of
Ascam, its minister at Madrid; of Colonel Lisle, at Lausanne; and
their repeated attempts on the life of Cromwell, in pursuance of their
avowed doctrine of assassination shown in the tract called "Killing no
Murder." This does anything but justify their high claim to the title
of men of honour, and finds no parallel in the principles or practices
of the Puritans of England, though the Scottish Covenanters stooped to
this base practice in the murder of Archbishop Sharp.

Then as to profane swearing, their conversation, larded with oaths,
would have disgraced the most uncouth trooper of to-day. "The new band
of wits and fine gentlemen," says Macaulay, "never opened their mouths
without uttering a ribaldry of which a porter would now be ashamed,
and without calling on their Maker to curse them, sink them, confound
them, blast them, and damn them." "No man," says Lord Somers, "was
accounted a gentleman, or person of any honour, that had not in two
hours' sitting invented some new modish oath, or found out the late
intrigue between the Lord B. and the Lady P., laughed at the fopperies
of priests, and made lampoons and drollery on the sacred Scriptures
themselves." As to drinking and gambling, these vices were beyond
conception; and the plunder of the people by the Cavalier troopers was
carried on as if they had been in an enemy's country.

We have only to refer to the abandoned character of the women of
Charles's Court, and amongst the aristocracy, who imitated the monarch
in selecting mistresses and even wives from the stage, to remind the
reader of the immoral character of the age. As we have already said,
any one who would convince himself of the sink of infamy and obscenity
which society was then, has only to look at the plays which were acted;
at their language, declaimed by women without a blush or any evidence
of disgust; plays written even by such men as Dryden. "Whatever our
dramatists touched," says Macaulay, "they tainted. In their imitations
the houses of Calderon's stately and high-spirited Castilian gentlemen
became sties of vice, Shakespeare's 'Viola' a procuress, Molière's
'Misanthrope' a ravisher, Molière's 'Agnes' an adulteress. Nothing
could be so pure or so heroic, but that it became foul and ignoble by
transfusion through those foul and ignoble minds." The same writer,
making a few exceptions--and a noble one in the case of Milton--says
of the poets of that age that "from Dryden to D'Urfey the common
characteristic was hard-hearted, shameless, swaggering licentiousness,
at once inelegant and inhuman."

Whilst such was the condition of the Court, the aristocracy, the
theatre, and the literature of the country, we may imagine what was
the condition of the lower orders. The state of London was little, if
anything, improved in civilisation--by no means improved in its moral
tone--since the days of James I. The city was rising in a more healthy
and substantial form from the fire, with wider streets, and better
drainage; but it was still badly lighted, and disgraced by filthy
kennels.

At the close of Charles II.'s reign London was lighted, by contract,
by one Herring, who engaged to place a lamp at every tenth door,
when there was no moon, from six to twelve o'clock at night, from
Michaelmas to Lady-Day; and this was thought to be a wonderful advance.
To us it would appear just darkness visible; and vast tracts of
population were destitute of even this feeble glimmer. Whitefriars
still continued the haunt of thieves, bullies, desperate debtors,
and abandoned women, who rushed out and defended themselves from any
visitations of duns or constables. The neighbourhood of Whitehall
itself was little better, from the resort of the bully-mob of those
who called themselves gentlemen. These young men, often belonging to
good families, or the sons of wealthy citizens, assembled for noise and
mischief in theatres and in the streets. They had been successively
known as the "Darr Hearts," "the Heroics," "the Muns," "Tityre Tu's,"
"the Hectors," "the Roaring Boys," and "Bonaventors," so continually
figuring in the comedies of the time. They now bore the name of
"the Scourers," and frequented the theatres to damn plays, and the
coffee-houses to pick up the last sayings of the wits, which were
commonly not very cleanly, when such men as Rochester, Sedley, Dryden,
and Wycherley were the stars there. They then sallied into the streets
in bands, breaking windows, tearing off knockers, defacing signs,
upsetting stalls, fish- or fruit-sellers, storming taverns, beating
quiet passengers, and rudely insulting respectable women. Frequently
they came to a regular fight with some other mob of "Scourers," and
then rushed headlong, knocking down all whom they met. The watchmen
carefully kept out of their way, and the military had to disperse them
when they became particularly riotous. One great delight of these
genteel ruffians was to hustle passengers into the kennel, or into
Fleet Ditch and its tributaries, which ran then in open Styx-like
blackness along the streets. To add to these dangers of walking the
City in the evening thieves and pickpockets assaulted the passers by
from dark entries below; and it was the common practice to empty all
sorts of filth out of chamber windows. The City apprentices still
kept up their riotous character. On one occasion, having attacked and
beaten their masters, they were some of them put into the pillory;
whereupon they tore down the pillory, and when set up again they again
pulled it down. There were feuds and street encounters everywhere. The
weavers and butchers, the frequenters of bear-gardens and theatres, or
sword-players, were continually falling into parties and ending the
dispute by a general _mêlée_.

The aristocracy had evacuated the City-especially since the fire--and
had located themselves along the Strand, Lincoln's Inn Fields,
Bloomsbury, Soho, and all quarters tending towards Whitehall; others
located themselves in Covent Garden; and in the fields now covered
by the piles of Bedford Square and the British Museum stood the
magnificent mansions of Bedford House and Montague House. But most of
the sites of the splendid squares and streets of our now West End were
open country, or the rubbish-heaps of the neighbourhood. Club-life
was just beginning. There were numbers of political clubs, the most
famous of which was the King's Head, or Green Ribbon Club, from the
members wearing a green ribbon in their hats, to distinguish them from
their opponents. There was the club of Shaftesbury and the Whig party,
which was engaged in the design of excluding the Duke of York from the
succession, and which raised all the Titus Oates plots to accomplish
their object. It met at the King's Head Tavern opposite to the Temple
Gate. But coffee-houses, now become general, were in reality clubs;
and every class and party had its coffee-house, where its members met.
There was the literary coffee-house, called Will's, situate between
Covent Garden and Bow Street, where Dryden was the great man, and
where literary lords, literary lawyers, dramatists, players, and wits
of all sorts met to settle the merits of literature and the stage.
There were lawyers' coffee-houses, citizens' coffee-houses, doctors'
coffee-houses, the chief of them Garraway's; Jesuits' coffee-houses,
Puritans' coffee-houses, and Popish coffee-houses, where every man
found his fellows, and partisans met and learned the news; and in these
haunts the spirit of party and of religious antagonism was carried to
its fiercest height. The chief place of public lounging was the New
Exchange in the City, and Spring Gardens, Hyde Park, and the Mulberry
Garden, which were continually occurring in the comedies of the day as
the places of assignation, as well as the fashionable masquerades.

But whilst such were the most marked features of life in London at
that day, we are not to suppose that there was not a large number of
the population who retained a love of virtue, purity, and domestic
life. The religious were a numerous class; and the stern morality of
the Nonconformists beheld with pity and indignation the dissipated
flutterings of the corrupt world around them. Besides these there was
a numerous population of sober citizens, who, though they did not go
with the Puritans in religion, were disgusted with the French manners,
maxims, houses, and cookery, and stood by their native modes and ideas
with sturdy John Bullism. The musical taste of the age tended to draw
them together to more rational enjoyments than debauchery and the
tainted stage, and the increasing use of coffee and tea gave to musical
and social parties a more homelike and refined character.

[Illustration: CHELSEA HOSPITAL.]

The popular sports and amusements still, however, were of the usual
description. All the old cruel sports of bear-baiting, bull-baiting,
and cock-fights, which the Puritans had suppressed, came back with
royalty. Horse-racing was in vogue; and gambling was such a fever
amongst the wealthy, that many great estates were squandered at cards;
and the Duke of St. Albans, when more than eighty years of age, and
quite blind, used to sit at the gaming-table from day to day, with a
man beside him to tell him the cards. Billiards, chess, backgammon,
and cribbage were in great request; and bowls, ninepins, boat-racing,
yacht-racing, running at the ring, were sports both with the people and
the gentry. Ladies joined in playing at bowls; skating was introduced
by the courtiers, who had spent much time in Holland. Swimming and
foot-races were fashionable. Colonel Blood planned to shoot Charles
once when he went to swim in the Thames near Chelsea, and the Duke of
Monmouth, as we have seen, in his popular tour ran races against all
comers, first without boots, and then beat them running in his boots
whilst the others ran without.

Charles prided himself on his pedestrian feats. The common people
were as much delighted as their ancestors with all the exhibitions
of Bartholomew Fair and Smithfield, of fire-eaters, jugglers,
rope-dancers, dancing dogs and monkeys, Punch, feats of strength, and
travelling theatres, where some Scripture story was represented, as is
yet the case on the Continent.

In the country, life continued to move on at its usual rate. Land had
not approached to anything like its present value, and education was an
immense way farther behind, so that a large number of the aristocracy,
including nearly the whole of the squirearchy, continued to live on
their estates, and rarely made a visit to London. The ravages which the
Civil War had made in all parts of the country had left traces on many
a rental which were yet far from being obliterated; and the contempt
into which the clerical office had fallen since the Reformation,
and absorption of the Church lands, left one outlet for the sons of
the squirearchy at this time little available. The landed gentry,
therefore, for the most part continued to occupy a position of much
local importance, but, with few exceptions, did not mingle with the
great world of London, or aspire to lead in social or political rivalry
on the national arena. The squire was on the bench and at the quarter
sessions; he was often colonel of the militia, and knew his importance
in the country; but beyond that he was little heard of except when
civil strife called him out to defend the altar and the throne. But
within his own little world he was all in all, proud of his power,
and prouder of his pedigree; but if the Squire Westerns of Fielding's
time are faithfully portrayed, how much more rustic, Toryfied, and
confined in the range of their ideas and experience must they have
been nearly two hundred years before. Few of them had the ambition to
distinguish themselves by literary attainments--such accomplishments
they left to the Drydens and Danbys of the metropolis. Many heirs of
estates, therefore, at this era never went to a university, or, if
they did, made but a brief abode there, and returned little better for
the sojourn, depending on their property to give them all the _éclat_
they aspired to. To enjoy the sports of the field, attend the county
race meeting and county ball, to live surrounded by huntsmen and
gamekeepers, to keep a coarse but exuberant table, and to terminate the
day's sport by a drunken carouse, included the pursuits and habits of
three-fourths of this class.

As these gentry went little to town, their manners were proportionally
rustic, and their circle of ideas confined, but from their confinement
the more sturdy. Toryism of the extremest type was rampant amongst
them. Church and State, and the most hearty contempt of everything
like Dissent and of foreigners, were regarded as the only maxims for
Englishmen; and the most absolute submission of the peasantry to the
despotic squirearchy was exacted. In a justice-room if a man was poor
it was taken for granted that he was wrong. Justice Shallows and
Dogberrys were not the originals of the pages of Shakespeare, but of
the country bench of magistrates and its constabulary. Ideas travelled
slowly, for books were few. A Bible, a Common Prayer-book, and a
"Guillim's Heraldry" were the extent of many a gentleman's library.
Newspapers were suppressed by the restrictions on the press during the
latter part of Charles's reign; and the news-letters which supplied the
country contained a very meagre amount of facts, but no discussion.

There were few coaches, except in the districts immediately round
London, or to the distance of twenty or thirty miles, and the roads
were in general impassable in winter. On all but the main lines of
highway, pack-horses carried the necessary merchandise from place to
place through deep narrow tracks, some of which remain to our time. It
took four or five days to reach London by coach from Chester, York,
or Bristol, and this was attended by perils and discomforts that made
travellers loth to encounter such a journey, and often to make their
wills before starting. Macaulay has summed up the terrors of the road,
as given by our Diarists, in the following passage:--"On the best lines
of communication the ruts were deep, the descents precipitous, and the
ways often such that it was hardly possible to distinguish them in the
dusk from the unenclosed heath and fen on both sides. Ralph Thoresby,
the antiquary, was in danger of losing his way on the Great North Road
between Barnby Moor and Tuxford, and actually lost his way between
Doncaster and York; Pepys and his wife, travelling in their own coach,
lost their way between Newbury and Reading. In the course of the same
tour they lost their way near Salisbury, and were in danger of having
to pass the night on the plain. It was only in fine weather that the
whole breadth of the road was available for wheeled vehicles. Often the
mud lay deep on the right and the left, and only a narrow track of firm
ground rose above the quagmire. At such times obstructions and quarrels
were common, and the pass was frequently blocked up during a long time
by carriers neither of whom would give way. It happened almost every
day that coaches stuck fast, until a team of cattle could be procured
from some neighbouring farm to tug them out of the slough. But in bad
seasons the travellers had to encounter inconveniences still more
serious. Thoresby, who was in the habit of travelling between Leeds
and the capital, has recorded in his Diary such a series of perils and
disasters as might suffice for a journey to the Frozen Ocean, or to the
desert of Sahara. On one occasion he learned that the floods were out
between Ware and London, that passengers had to swim for their lives,
and that a higgler had perished in the attempt to cross. In consequence
of these tidings he turned out of the high road, and was conducted
across some meadows, when it was necessary for him to ride to the
skirts in water. In the course of another journey he narrowly escaped
being swept away by an inundation of the Trent. He was afterwards
detained at Stamford four days, on account of the state of the roads,
and then ventured to proceed only because fourteen members of the House
of Commons, who were going up in a body to Parliament, with guides
and numerous attendants, took him into their company. On the roads of
Derbyshire travellers were in constant fear for their necks, and were
frequently compelled to alight and lead their beasts. The great route
through Wales to Holyhead was in such a state that, in 1685, a viceroy,
going to Ireland, was five hours travelling fourteen miles--from St.
Asaph to Conway. Between Conway and Beaumaris he was forced to walk a
great part of the way, and his lady was carried in a litter. His coach
was, with much difficulty, and by the help of many hands, brought after
him entire. In general, carriages were taken to pieces at Conway and
borne on the shoulders of stout Welsh peasants to the Menai Straits.
In some parts of Kent and Sussex none but the strongest horses could,
in winter, get through the bog, in which at every step they sank deep.
The markets were often inaccessible during several months. It is said
the fruits of the earth were sometimes suffered to rot in one place,
while in another place, distant only a few miles, the supply fell short
of the demand. The wheeled carriages in this district were generally
pulled by oxen. When Prince George of Denmark visited the stately
mansion of Petworth in wet weather he was six hours going nine miles;
and it was necessary that a body of sturdy hinds should be on each side
of his coach, in order to prop it. Of the carriages which conveyed his
retinue several were upset and injured. A letter from one of the party
has been preserved, in which the unfortunate courtier complains that,
during fourteen hours, he never once alighted, except when his coach
was overturned or stuck fast in the mud."

To avoid the nuisance of carriages on such roads the habit prevailed
of travelling on horseback; but then it was necessary to go well
armed, and, if possible, in company, for the country was infested with
highwaymen. The adventures of horsemen were commonly as numerous and
exciting as those of the folk who used carriages, though mails and
carriages were also frequently stopped by the highwaymen of the day.
To abate the difficulties of the road, on the Restoration the turnpike
system was adopted--a new era in road-making--and what were called
flying coaches were put on the amended ways, which conveyed passengers
at a better rate.

During the Commonwealth, travellers met equally provoking impediments
in passing through towns, if they dared to travel on Sundays. There
was a fine for such a breach of the Sabbath; and Elwood describes his
ludicrous dilemma when riding to a Friends' Meeting on Sunday, on a
borrowed horse, with a borrowed hat and great-coat; for his father
had locked up his own horse, hat, and coat to keep him from the
conventicle. Being stopped and brought before a magistrate, he was
ordered to pay the fine; but he replied that he had no money. "You have
a good horse, however," observed the magistrate. "That is borrowed,"
said Elwood. "Well, you have a good great-coat." "That is borrowed,
too," added Elwood. "Nay, then, we must have your hat, it is a good
one." "That also is borrowed," continued the young Quaker. At which the
magistrate, declaring that he never saw such a traveller in his life,
who had nothing but what was borrowed, ordered him to be detained till
the morrow, and then sent back again.

In the times we are now reviewing the tables were turned, and the
Royalist churchmen and squirearchy were employing their country
leisure in breaking up the conventicles of all sorts of Dissenters,
pulling down the meeting-houses of the obstinate Quakers, and sending
them to prison by shoals. Sir Christopher Wren, by order of the king,
tried his hand at pulling down Quakers' meeting-houses, before he
built St. Paul's. The spirit of political and ecclesiastical party
violence raged through the country, and formed a strange contrast, in
the cruelties and oppression practised on the truly religious portion
of the community, to the profligacy of the gentry and, above all, of
the Court. What rendered this condition of things more gloomy was the
low position which the country clergy then occupied. The property
of the Church having fallen into the hands of the aristocracy, the
generality of country livings were poor, and depended chiefly on
the small tithes and a miserable glebe of a few acres. Whilst some
few men of distinguished abilities, like Burnet, Tillotson, Barrow,
and Stillingfleet, rose to distinction and occupied the few wealthy
dignities and livings, the parish clergymen were too commonly men of
low origin and little education. Men of family disdained the office,
and the chaplain of a great house was looked on as little better than
a servant; he married the cook or the housekeeper, and became the
hanger-on of some country hall, joining in the rude riot and the ruder
jests of his patron. Even so late as Fielding's time, the relative
position of the squire and the parson were those of Western and parson
Adams.

Perhaps the most pleasing feature of country life was that of the
position of the yeoman, or man of small independent property. This
class had been increased by the various distributions of great estates;
and it is calculated that at this time one-seventh at least of the
population consisted of men with their families who lived on their own
little demesnes producing from fifty to a hundred pounds a year. The
number of men who farmed the lands of the aristocracy at that time is
affirmed to have been much fewer than those who farmed their own. This
independence of condition gave them independence of mind, and it was
amongst this class that the strongest resistance to the dominance and
intolerance of the squirearchy was found. Many of them during the Civil
War and the Commonwealth adopted the Puritan faith, and continued to
maintain it in defiance of Five-Mile Acts, Conventicle Acts, and Acts
of Uniformity. From them descended the sturdy spirit which, uniting
with a kindred spirit in towns, continued to vindicate the liberties
and manly bearing of the British population.

Nor amid the corruptions and bitternesses of the times had all the
ancient poetical customs of the people disappeared. Neither the
asceticism of the Puritan nor the profligacy of the Cavalier had been
able to utterly extinguish such customs as had a touch of nature in
them. The Londoners made their swarming excursions to Greenwich, and
Richmond, and Epping Forest, where they gave way to all their pent-up
fun and frolic, and enlivened the banks of the Thames with their songs
as they rowed to and fro. The old holidays of the departed church still
survived. Valentine's Day was still a day of love missives, and of
presents of gloves, jewellery, silk stockings, and ornamental garters
from gentlemen to their valentines. Mayday reassumed its jollity;
may-poles, put down by the Commonwealth, again lifted their heads; and
Herrick's beautiful verses resumed their reality:--

"There's not a budding boy or girl this day
But is got up and gone to bring in May;
A deal of youth ere this is come
Back, and with whitethorn laden, home."

The Puritans beheld the return of the custom with horror. In 1660,
the year that Charles II. and may-poles came back again, a Puritan,
writing from Newcastle, says:--"Sir,--The country as well as the town
abounds with vanities, now the reins of liberty and licentiousness are
let loose. Maypoles, and players, and jugglers, and all things else
now pass current. Sin now appears with a brazen face." Just as Charles
and James were landing in the merry month of May, at Dover, Thomas
Hall published his "Funebria Floræ, the Downfall of May Games"--a most
inopportune moment. With equal horror, the Puritans beheld the old
sports at village wakes and Whitsuntide, the jollity of harvest homes,
and the mirthful uproar of Christmas, come back. New Year's Day, with
its gifts--a Roman custom as old as Romulus--not only reappeared as a
means of expressing affection amongst friends, but as a source of great
profit to the king and nobility. For as Numa ordered gifts to be given
to the gods on that day, so gifts were now presented by the nobility to
the king, and long after his time by the dependents of the nobility,
and those who sought favour from them, to the nobles. Pepys says that
the whole fortunes of some courtiers consisted in these gifts. But
Christmas boxes, which originated in New Year's gifts, and have become
confounded with them in England, have survived the New Year's gifts of
the time we are reviewing.

The great evidences of the growth of a nation are the increase of
its trade, its population, and its governmental revenue. When these
three things continue to augment, _pari passu_, there can be no
question of the substantial progress of a nation. All these had been
steadily on the increase during this period, and the advocates of
royalty point to these circumstances to prove the mischiefs of the
Civil War and the Commonwealth. It would be enough in reply, even
did we admit the reality of the alleged facts, to observe that the
mischief, whatever it was, was necessitated by the crimes and tyrannies
of royalty. But we have only to look carefully at the whole case to
see that the prosperity following the Restoration had its source in
the Commonwealth. In spite of the violent changes and dislocations
of society during the period of the conflict with Charles I., these
upheavings and tempests threw down and swept away a host of things
which cramped and smothered the free action of commerce and internal
industry. The lava which burst in fiery streams from the volcano of
revolution, though it might for a time destroy life and property,
only required a little more time to moulder and fertilise the earth.
A host of mischievous monopolies were annihilated in this convulsion.
The foreign commerce was carefully extended. Not only at home were
Englishmen relieved from the incubus of Government absolutism, and
interference with private speculation, but the haughty fleets of Dutch,
and French, and Spaniards were swept from the ocean, and English
merchants were encouraged to extend their enterprises, not only by the
greater security at sea, but by the act of the Long Parliament allowing
the import of commodities from its colonies and possessions in America,
Asia, and Africa, only in English bottoms. This, it has been contended,
did us no good, because it compelled the Dutch to turn their attention
to the Baltic trade, and enabled them to get the precedence of us
there. But this is a mistake; for the removal of the overbearing fleets
of the Dutch, and the stimulus given to our commerce by this privilege,
led to a far greater amount of mercantile activity in England, and
helped us to assume a position in which at a later date we could safely
introduce the principles of free navigation.

[Illustration: MAY DAY REVELS IN THE TIME OF CHARLES II.]

Cromwell fostered British commerce by all the means in his power, and
most successfully; and the commercial activity thus excited acquired
power, and continued to increase ever afterwards. He encouraged and
extended the colonies, especially by the acquisition of Jamaica,
and the trade with the West Indies and American colonies added
increasingly, during the period now under review, to our commercial
wealth and navy. The writer of "The World's Mistake in Oliver
Cromwell," published in the "Harleian Miscellany," says:--"When this
tyrant, or Protector, as some call him, turned out the Long Parliament
in April, 1653, the kingdom had arrived at the highest pitch of trade
it ever knew. The riches of the nation showed itself in the high value
of land and of all our native commodities, which are the certain marks
of opulence." Besides this, the great quantity of land thrown into the
hands of small proprietors, from time to time, and from a succession
of causes, ever since the breaking up of the Roman Church, and all
its monasteries and convents by Henry VIII., was every day telling
more markedly on the wealth and spirit of the people. We have just
seen what a powerful body the yeomanry had grown; and, from the same
causes, a large accession of capital had flowed into trade. The culture
of these divided lands was enormously increased; instead of lying as
vast deserts and hunting grounds, they now were become fertile farms.
The internal resources of the country were rapidly and constantly
developing themselves; and from the cool transfer of the taxation from
the aristocracy to the people at large, it had become the interest of
the monarchs, if they did little positively to accelerate the growth of
national wealth, at least to leave in freedom the capital-increasing
exertions of the population. The more the people traded abroad, the
greater were the proceeds of the customs; the more they consumed, the
greater the proceeds of the excise; now the chief items of the royal
revenue. All the sources of national wealth originated in the Long
Parliament and the Commonwealth, for the transfers of the customs and
excise were first made then, and only resumed after the Restoration.

[Illustration: SHIPS OF THE TIME OF CHARLES II.]

We may now notice the rapid growth of these items of revenue. In the
first year of Charles II.'s reign--namely, 1660--the proceeds of the
customs were £361,356; in the last year of James's reign, 1688, they
were £781,987. Thus, in twenty-eight years the customs had more than
doubled themselves. We have not the same complete accounts of the
excise, imports and exports, for the same period; but those which we
have show the same progressive ratio. In 1663, the imports and exports
together amounted to £6,038,831; in 1669, or only six years afterwards,
they were £6,259,413; and, since 1613, they had risen up to this amount
from £4,628,586. This showed a steady increase of consumption in the
nation. During this time the imports exceeded the exports considerably,
demonstrating the fact that the internal wealth was greater than the
export of goods; but the balance of trade gradually adjusted itself,
and, in 1699, the excess of exports over imports was £1,147,660;
showing that even exportable articles of manufacture, of raw produce,
or of commodities the growth of our colonies and settlements, had
continued to increase. The proceeds of the excise in 1660, when Charles
became possessed of it, amounted only to about one million; but
increased so rapidly that in little more than a century it reached ten
millions.

The value of land, and of all kinds of property, rose in proportion.
Davenant, in his "Discourses on Trade," shows that the value of the
whole rental of England in 1660 was but £6,000,000; in 1688 it was
£14,000,000. So that, in 1660, the whole land of England, at twelve
years' purchase, was worth only £72,000,000; but, in 1688, at fourteen
years' purchase, its then estimated value, it was worth £254,000,000.

As to the mercantile shipping of the country, its tonnage in 1688 was
nearly double what it was in 1666. Sir William Petty, in his "Political
Arithmetic," published in 1676, states that, within the previous forty
years, the houses in London had doubled themselves: the coal trade from
Newcastle had quadrupled itself, being then 80,000 tons yearly; the
Guinea and American trades had grown up from next to nothing to 40,000
tons of shipping; the customs were trebled; the postage of letters
increased from one to twenty; the whole income of Government, in short,
was trebled; and the number and splendour of coaches, equipages, and
household furniture were wonderfully increased.

These effects were surely no results of the wise measures of such
monarchs as Charles and James; they were traceable, as clearly as
light to the sun, to the bold and able heads of the Long Parliament
and Commonwealth, to their victories over the enemies and rivals of
the nation, and to the able regulations which they had made in all
quarters for the honourable maintenance of our name and the prosperity
of our commerce. What such men as Charles and James did may be seen by
examining the condition of what fell under their own management. What
the nation at large did by its native energy we have just seen; what
these monarchs did let us now see. The royal navy, in 1666, amounted
only to 62,594 tons; but in 1685, the last year of Charles, it amounted
to 103,558 tons; and, though it fell off a little under James, in
1688, the last year of James, it still reached 101,892 tons. This
looks admirable on the surface; but it is necessary to look under the
surface, and then we perceive a marvellous difference. The nation had
become justly proud of its navy, which had destroyed the great Armada,
and, under Blake, had put down the supremacy of Holland and Spain at
sea; and though the Commons were averse from trusting Charles II. with
money, after they saw that it all went to concubines and parasites,
they were never appealed to on the subject of the navy in vain. When
Danby was minister, they voted at once £600,000 for the building of
thirty new men-of-war. On the evidence of Pepys, the Secretary of the
Admiralty, we have it, that scarcely any of this magnificent array
of ships were fit for use. The very thirty new vessels for which the
£600,000 had been voted had been built of such villainous timber that
they were absolutely unseaworthy; and the rest were so rotten and
worm-eaten that they would have sunk if they were carried out of port.
The same testimony was borne by the French ambassador, Bonrepaux, who,
when Charles made a bluster as if he would go to sea, in 1686, examined
our fleet, and reported to his Government that it need not trouble
itself about the English navy, for that both ships and men were merely
nominal. In fact, the money which should have repaired the ships and
paid the officers and men had gone the way of all Charles's money.
Pepys was pursued in the streets by starving sailors, who demanded the
redemption of their tickets; shoals of them lay in the streets, without
food or means of procuring shelter; many of them perished of hunger,
and some officers are said to have shared the same fate. The whole
was the most shameful scene of waste of the public money, neglect of
vessels and of men, of utter indolence on the part of the Crown, and
consequent negligence on the part of the authorities; of scandalous
corruption in many of them, and knavery and peculation in contractors.
Such was the state of things that, in 1667, or seven years after the
Commonwealth, the Dutch, under De Ruyter, entered the Thames, destroyed
the fortifications at Sheerness, took and burned some of our largest
ships, and threw the capital into paroxysms of terror. "Many English
sailors," says Pepys, "were heard on board the Dutch ships, crying, 'We
did heretofore fight for tickets--now we fight for dollars!'"

Besides the causes already enumerated for the rapid progress of
England in wealth and prosperity at this period, the persecutions of
Protestants abroad, which drove hither their weavers and artisans, and
the union with Scotland, giving internal peace and security, had a
wonderful influence. De Witt, the celebrated Dutch minister, refers to
these causes in a remarkable passage of his work called "The Interest
of Holland," published in 1669. "When," he says, "the compulsive laws
of the Netherland Halls had first driven the cloth-weaving from the
cities into our villages, and, by the cruelty of the Duke of Alva,
the say-weaving went also after it, the English by degrees began to
send their manufactures throughout Europe; they became potent at sea,
and no longer to depend on the Netherlands. Also by that discovery of
the inexpressibly rich cod-bank of Newfoundland, those of Bristol in
particular made use of that advantage. Moreover, the long persecution
of Puritans in England has occasioned the planting of many English
colonies in America, by which they derive a very considerable foreign
trade thither; so that this mighty island, united with Ireland under
one king, seated in the midst of Europe, having a clear, deep coast,
with good havens and bays, in so narrow a sea that all foreign ships
that sail either to the eastward or the westward are necessitated, even
in fair weather, to shun the dangerous French coast, and sail along
that of England, and in stormy weather to run in and preserve their
lives, ships, and merchandise in the bays--so that England now, by its
conjunction with Scotland, being much increased in strength, as well
as by manufactures as by a great navigation, will in all respects be
formidable to all Europe."

The clear-sighted Dutch diplomatist has summed up the grand points of
England's advantages at that and succeeding periods, and some of these
deserve our particular attention. The union with Scotland, though yet
dependent only on the Crown of the two countries resting on the same
head, was a circumstance of infinite advantage. It gave a settlement
and security to all the northern portions of the island which they
had never enjoyed before. Till James VI. of Scotland became James
I. of England, not only agriculture but all kinds of manufacturing
and commercial enterprise were kept in check by the frequent hostile
inroads of the Scots. Even when there was peace between the Crowns, the
fierce people inhabiting both sides of the Border were in continual
bickerings with each other; and a numerous body of mosstroopers, whose
only profession was plunder, harassed the rich plains of England by
their predatory raids. The state of things described by Sir Walter
Scott as existing in these regions only about a century ago, gives us
a lively idea of what must have been the savagery of the Borderers at
the time we are describing. If he himself, as he tells us, was probably
the first who drove a gig into Liddesdale, and if at that time the
wilds and moorlands of the Border were peopled by tribes of freebooters
as lawless as savages, what must have been the state of the northern
counties whilst the two countries were at feud? We are told that even
the judges and king's officers could not reach the towns on the Border
without a strong military guard.

But as the union of the Crowns became settled and consolidated, a
new era commenced north of the Trent. These counties, full of coal
and ironstone, abounding with streams and all the materials for
manufacture, began to develop their resources, and to advance in
population and activity at an unexampled rate. Birmingham and Sheffield
extended their hardware trade; Leeds and its neighbouring villages, its
cloth manufactures; Manchester, its cotton-spinning, though yet little
aided by machinery; and Liverpool was rapidly rising as a port by its
trade with Ireland. The union of the Crowns was, in fact, the beginning
of that marvellous impetus which has at this day covered all the north
with coal-works, iron-works, potteries, spinning and weaving factories,
and towns, which have grown up around them with their 530,000 people,
like Birmingham; their 425,000, like Sheffield; their 445,000, like
Leeds; their 780,000, like Manchester (with Salford); and 716,000, like
Liverpool. It was the same security amid attendant advantages which
raised the immense commercial and manufacturing population of Glasgow,
Paisley, Greenock, and neighbouring towns on the other side of the
Border--Glasgow alone now numbering its 787,000 people.

In the south and west Norwich and Bristol were most flourishing towns.
Norwich owed its growth and prosperity to the establishment of the
worsted manufacture, brought thither by the Flemings as early as the
reign of Henry I., in the thirteenth century, and to the influence of
four thousand other Flemings, who fled from the cruelty of the Duke of
Alva in Elizabeth's time, bringing their manufacture of bombazines,
which has now expanded itself into a great trade in bombazines, shawls,
crapes, damasks, camlets, and imitations of Irish and French stuffs.
Norwich had its fine old cathedral, its bishop's palace, its palace of
the Duke of Norfolk, adorned with the paintings of Italy, and where the
duke used at this time to live with a state little less than royal. It
had also a greater number of old churches than any town in England,
except London: old hospitals and grammar schools, and the finest
market-place in the kingdom.

Bristol, next to London, was the great trading port, and the commerce
with America and the West Indies was fast swelling its importance. One
of its most lucrative and, at the same time, most infamous sources of
commerce was the conveyance of convicts to the Plantations of America
and Jamaica. We have seen the eagerness of the courtiers of James
II., and even the queen and ladies, for a share of this traffic, and
the numbers of the unfortunate men implicated in the insurrection of
Monmouth who were sent off thither and sold. Jeffreys himself condemned
eight hundred and forty of them to this slavery, and calculated that
they were worth ten pounds apiece to those who had to sell them to
the British merchants, who probably made much more of them. That the
profits were enormous is evident by the avidity with which victims were
sought after, and with which innocent persons were kidnapped for the
purpose. Bristol, indeed, at that time was engaged in a veritable white
slave-trade, and the magistrates were deep in it, which fact coming to
Jeffreys' knowledge, he made it a plea for extorting money from them.

To understand, however, the immense difference between the England of
that day and of the present, we have only to state that the population
of none of these pre-eminent towns amounted to 30,000, few county towns
exceeded 4,000 or 5,000, and the whole population of England was,
according to various calculations, at the most five millions and a
half, nor was it increasing at all rapidly.

To protect the trade of England, Charles II. passed an Act (statute 12
Car. II., c. 18), commonly called the Navigation Act, carrying out the
principle of the Act of the Commonwealth already referred to, confining
the import of all commodities from Asia, Africa, or America to English
bottoms, and also all goods from Europe to English ships, or the ships
of the particular country exporting them. The next year a similar Act
was passed by the Scottish Parliament. The Act of the Commonwealth had
effected its purpose--the depression of the Dutch carrying trade--and
it was now time to relax these restrictions, but we shall see that
even at a later day it required a struggle to repeal these laws, and
to convince people, by the subsequent immense increase of foreign
commerce, of the impolicy of them. Charles's Government went further,
and, in 1662, forbade any wine but Rhenish, or any spirits, grocery,
tobacco, potashes, pitch, tar, salt, resin, deals, firs, timber, or
olive oil, to be imported from Germany or the Netherlands. In 1677,
alarmed at the vast importation of French goods and produce, his
Government prohibited every French article for three years; but the Act
remained unrepealed till the 1st of James II., by which our merchants
and shopkeepers were deprived of great profits on these silks, wines,
fruits, and manufactured articles, and the public of the comfort of
them.

Another evidence of the growth of the country was the increase of the
business of the post-office. The origin of the English post-office is
due to Charles I., who, at the commencement of his disputes with the
Parliament, established a system of posts and relays. This the Civil
War put an end to; but the Commonwealth, in 1656, established the
post-office, with several improvements. At the accession of Charles,
a new Act was passed (12 Car. II., c. 25); and three years afterwards
the proceeds of this office and of the wine duties were settled on the
Duke of York and his heirs male. The duke farmed it out at £21,500,
but on his accession the revenue amounted to £65,000. By this post a
single letter was carried eighty miles for twopence; beyond eighty
miles threepence was charged, and there was an advance according to
the weight of packets. The privilege of franking was allowed, though
not expressly granted in the Act, to peers and members of Parliament.
There were mails, however, only on alternate days, and in distant and
difficult parts of the country, as on the borders of Cornwall and the
fens of Lincolnshire, only once a week. Wherever the Court went mails
were sent daily; this was the case, also, to the Downs, and, in the
season, to Bath and Tunbridge Wells. Where coaches did not run, men
on horseback carried the bags. The increasing business of London soon
demanded a more frequent delivery, and the penny post was first started
by William Dockwray, which delivered letters six times a day in the
City, and four times in the outskirts. At this time the post-office
business included the furnishing of all post-horses--whence the name;
and the Governments on the Continent generally retain more or less
of this practice. The growth of England from the time of the Stuarts
till now receives a significant proof in the present gross revenue
for letters, stamps, telegrams, and other post office business being
upwards of £16,000,000 a year.

The transmission of the mails made it necessary to improve the roads,
and hence arose the toll-bar system, by an Act of 15 Car. II., which
ordered the repairing of highways and the erection of bars or gates
upon them, in Hertfordshire, Cambridgeshire, and Huntingdonshire,
owing to the Great North Road being so much cut up by the heavy
malt and barley waggons going to Ware, whence their contents were
forwarded by water to London and other towns. The system was found so
advantageous that it gradually became general.

[Illustration: THE OLD EAST INDIA HOUSE IN 1630.]

The extension and improvement of our manufactures was greatly promoted
by the persecution of the Protestants in France and the Spanish
Netherlands. The revocation of the Edict of Nantes, in 1685, compelled
thousands of citizens to seek refuge in England, who, as we have seen,
were at first warmly patronised by James II., but afterwards as much
discouraged. Their value to the country was, however, too obvious for
the community to sanction this neglect. They settled in Spitalfields,
and introduced the weaving of silks, brocades, and lutestrings; and the
trade and the descendants of these refugees until lately distinguished
the same quarter of London. It is supposed that they also brought with
them the art of making the finest kinds of writing paper, which was
previously imported from France.

Before this, and from the very beginning of this period, other
foreigners--refugees tempted by liberal offers--had introduced other
manufactures. In the year of Charles's accession, the Anglo-French
population of Jersey and Guernsey were allowed to import wool from
England duty free, and pushed their manufacture--worsted hosiery--to
great perfection. In 1660 some Flemings introduced the improved arts
of dyeing and dressing woollen cloths, by which they raised our cloths
to an equality with the Continental ones. Other foreigners in the same
year were encouraged to commence the manufacture of linen and tapestry.
Some others settled at Ipswich, in 1669, and the Scots, who had carried
the linen-weaving to Ireland, were at this time making great progress
with it there. In 1670 the Duke of Buckingham brought from Venice men
skilled in the manufacturing of glass; the Dutch loom was brought
over, and, in 1676, the printing of calicoes, now so vast a trade at
Manchester, was commenced in London, in imitation of those brought
from India. In 1680 machines for ribbon-weaving were introduced,
to which Coventry owed so much of her trade. The art of tinning
sheet-iron was brought over from Germany by natives of that country,
at the instigation of Andrew Yarranton, the agent of an English
company. A Dutchman erected the first wire-mill in England at Sheen,
near Richmond; and pinchbeck was introduced by its inventor under the
patronage of Prince Rupert. In fact, the seeds of many of the greatest
branches of English manufactures were sown during this period.

One of our largest trading companies also was fast growing, and was
destined to lay the foundation of the grandest colonial territory which
the world ever saw. Most of the companies which had previously existed
were now gone down, or were broken up by the increasing aversion of
the nation to monopolies; but the East India Company were every day
acquiring fresh life and power. The scene of their operations lay so
distant from public observation, particularly at that day when the
means of communication were so tardy and partial, and the Press did not
maintain an instant and perpetual attention upon everything concerning
the realm, that the Government were only too glad to leave with the
Company the whole management of those remote affairs, especially as
they poured so much profit into the country, of which the Government
had their share. Accordingly, Charles had scarcely seated himself
on his throne than he renewed the charter of the Company granted by
Cromwell in 1657, with augmented powers. This charter, dated the 3rd
of April, 1661, gave the Company the most absolute and unconditional
power. They were authorised to seize and send home any Englishman
presuming to trade in the East, and found so trading either in India
or the Indian seas. They were empowered to appoint their own judges,
and conduct the whole civil and military establishment; to make war
or peace with any of the native powers, or any powers not Christian;
to build any ports they pleased there or in St. Helena for their
accommodation and defence. In short, the most complete absolutism
was conferred on them in their territories, or such as they should
gain, and the most entire secrecy of transactions, by shutting out
every individual who might be disposed to pry into or criticise their
proceedings.

Bombay, which Charles had received with Catherine from Portugal, as
part of her marriage portion, was, in 1667, handed over to the Company,
and the effect of this addition of territory and of power was soon
seen. In 1676 their accumulated profits had doubled their capital,
and the price of their stock rose to 245 per cent. The following
facts, drawn from a publication supposed to be written by Sir Josiah
Child, entitled "The East India Trade a most Profitable Trade to this
Kingdom," which appeared in 1667, will show the extraordinary traffic
of the Company at that early period. They employed, the writer said,
from thirty to thirty-five ships of from three hundred to six hundred
tons burden. Their annual exports amounted to £430,000, and their
imports to £860,000; consisting of silks, raw and wrought, calico,
drugs, pepper, indigo, saltpetre, etc. They, moreover, licensed other
traders, who brought from India diamonds, pearls, musk, ambergris,
etc., to the amount of £150,000, and took out goods from England to
double that amount.

The writer proceeds to show how profitable this trade was to the
public as well as to the Company:--"The pepper I reckon at eightpence
a pound weight; so necessary a spice for all people, which formerly
cost us three shillings and fourpence a pound, being nowhere to be
had but in India; and were we obliged to have it from the Dutch, they
would probably raise it as high as they do their other spices; yet,
supposing it so low as one shilling and fourpence a pound, it would
be a further expense of £6,000 to the nation. Saltpetre is of that
absolute necessity that, without it, we should be like the Israelites
under the bondage of the Philistines--without the means of defending
ourselves. Possibly, if we had no Indian trade, we might, in time of
peace, purchase it, though it would cost us double what it does now.
But, in case of war, where could we have sufficient? Not surely from
our enemies. Or would our gentlemen, citizens, and farmers be willing
to have their cellars and rooms dug up, as in Charles I.'s reign, and
be deprived of freedom in their own houses, exposed and laid open to
saltpetre-men? Which method would be, besides, by no means equal to
the affording us the necessary supplies. Raw silk we might possibly
be supplied with from other parts, though not so cheap as from India;
and Indian wrought silks serve us instead of so much Italian or French
silks, which would cost us almost treble the price of Indian silks, to
the kingdom's loss of about £20,000 a year. Calicoes serve instead of
the like quantity of French, Dutch, and Flemish linen, which would cost
us thrice as much; hereby £200,000 or £300,000 is saved to the nation."

Amongst the articles of the greatest luxury which the Company imported
was tea. So long as we procured tea from the Dutch merchants it was too
dear for general use. So late as 1666--that is, six years after the
Restoration--it cost fifty shillings a pound from the Dutch East India
Company; but the English Company soon afterwards made their way to
China, in 1678, and imported four thousand seven hundred pounds of it;
and from this period we may date the more frequent use of tea. It was
long, however, before it became the formidable rival of beef and beer
at breakfast, or superseded these articles at the afternoon meal. It
was at first sold in the liquid state in London, and it was many years
before it made its way through the country; many ladies, in ignorance
of its true use, committing the mistake of boiling the leaves, and
serving them up as greens, throwing away the liquid!

In 1677, under the privilege of a new charter from Charles, the Company
began to earn money in their Indian territories. These privileges were
again extended by a fresh charter from Charles in 1683, and by James in
1686. In 1687 the Company laid the foundations of Calcutta, and went on
rapidly acquiring trade and territory, to be noticed at a later period.

Meanwhile, the trade with our American and West Indian colonies was
becoming valuable. During the latter years of the Stuart dynasty, the
exports to these colonies had risen to the amount of about £400,000
per annum, in different manufactures, provisions, household furniture,
etc.; and the imports thence in tobacco, sugar, ginger, cotton wool,
fustic, indigo, cocoa, fish, furs, and timber to nearly a million. Thus
the trade and wealth of England at the close of this period were in a
condition of healthy and rapid development, and our colonial system
was beginning to attract the "envy and admiration of the world." What
this has grown to by a steady progression in our time may be seen by
comparing the revenue of the country now with what it was then. Then it
amounted to about £1,500,000; now it amounts from all sources to over
£141,000,000.

Notwithstanding the rapid growth of the country in commerce and
internal wealth, it would be a false indication that the working
classes were well off. They were a body without education, without
political rights, and, consequently, without that intelligence and
union which can alone insure the fair reward of their labour; nor was
the humanity of the most civilised portion of the community at that
period of a degree which regarded the sufferings of others with much
feeling. All accounts of it leave the impression that it was a hard
and cruel age; as is usually the case, when sensuality and barbarity
go hand in hand. The sanguinary vengeance which Charles took on the
leaders of the Commonwealth immediately on his restoration; the savage
persecutions for religion in England and Scotland; the terrible
use of the iron boot and the thumbscrew in the latter country; the
bloody campaign of Jeffreys in England; the sale of convicts, and the
kidnapping of innocent people for the Plantations; public whippings,
pilloryings, brandings, and tongue-borings, as in the case of James
Naylor--all indicate a brutal and unfeeling tone of society. Macaulay
quotes from writers of the age many other revolting traits of this
stamp. "Whigs were disposed to murmur because Stafford was suffered to
die without seeing his bowels burned before his face. Tories reviled
and insulted Russell as his coach passed from the Tower to the scaffold
in Lincoln's Inn Fields. As little mercy was shown by the populace to
sufferers of a humbler rank. If an offender was put into the pillory,
it was well if he escaped with life, from the shower of brickbats and
paving-stones. If he were tied to the cart's tail, the crowd pressed
round him, imploring the hangman to give it the fellow well, and make
him howl. Gentlemen arranged parties of pleasure to Bridewell, on court
days, for the purpose of seeing the wretched women who beat hemp there
whipped. A man pressed to death for refusing to plead, or burned for
coining, excited less sympathy than is now felt for a galled horse
or an overdriven ox. Fights, compared with which a boxing-match is a
refined and humane spectacle, were the favourite diversions of a large
part of the town. Multitudes assembled to see gladiators hack each
other to pieces with deadly weapons, and shouted with delight when one
of the combatants lost a finger or an eye. The prisons were hells on
earth--seminaries of every crime and every disease. At the assizes, the
lean and yellow culprits brought with them from their cells to the dock
an atmosphere of stench and pestilence which sometimes avenged them
signally on the bench, bar, and jury. But on all this misery society
looked with profound indifference."

But we shall soon find that this conclusion is, on the whole, too
sweeping. Even that age had its philanthropists, and we may name the
crowds who flocked to witness the agonies of a hanging man to point in
some degree the wide distance between the mobs of this age and that.
But, as concerns the condition of the people, the important difference
is that the humanity which now pervades the community was scarcely to
be recognised then. The poor were treated with little tenderness.
Though four-fifths of the working people were engaged in agriculture,
agriculture was then extended over a very small portion of the country.
There was a surplus of hands, and these, therefore, were poorly paid,
whilst their clothing and provisions were comparatively high. Not
more than half the area of the island was then, it is supposed, in
cultivation, and the tillage was rude and slovenly. The rate of wages
for agricultural labourers, wood-cutters, shepherds, and the like,
differed in different parts of England, but in the best it did not
average more than four shillings a week with food, or six shillings
without. In 1661, the magistrates of Essex fixed the rate of wages from
March to September at eightpence a day with food, and one shilling
and twopence without; and for the other months, sixpence with food,
and a shilling without. Women had, of course, less. In most counties
a similar scale was fixed by the magistrates; and an Act of Elizabeth
empowered them to punish whoever gave more or less, and the labourer
who received more or less. Wheat at that time was seventy shillings a
quarter--a price enormously in excess of current prices. All kinds of
clothing that they could make themselves were much higher than with us,
because manufacturing was not so extensive.

The wages of artisans were but little better, except in London, where
first-rate bricklayers and carpenters could earn two shillings or
two-and-sixpence a day. In many counties, indeed, they were restricted
to the same rate as that of the labourers. In 1685 this was the
case in Warwickshire, where the daily wages of masons, bricklayers,
carpenters, shinglers, and other handicraftsmen, were fixed with
those of ploughmen, miners, ditchers, etc., at only sixpence a day. A
shilling a day is quoted as extravagant wages. The consequence was that
children were compelled to work as early as six years of age. This was
very much the case at Norwich; and writers of the time refer with pride
to the fact that before nine years of age children earned more than was
necessary for their own support by twelve thousand pounds a year! The
consequence of the miserable pay and the dearness of food and clothing
was an amount of pauperism scarcely less than in the reign of Henry
VIII. or Elizabeth. The poor rates amounted at that period to from
seven to nine hundred thousand pounds a year.

The condition of the poor was rendered infinitely worse two years after
the restoration of Charles II. than it had been, by an Act which was
passed to prevent them from settling in any other place than the one
where they had previously resided. This was the origin of the law of
settlement, which continued down to 1834 to harass the poor, and to
waste the parochial funds in litigation. In fact, Sir Frederick Eden,
in his work on "The State of the Poor," asserts that it caused more
litigation, and was more profitable to the lawyers, than any other Act
ever passed.

The preamble of the Act of 1662 recounts the prevalence of pauperism,
and at the same time professes that this enactment "is for the good of
the poor"! "The necessity," it says, "number, and continued increase of
the poor, not only within the circles of London and Westminster, with
the liberties of each of them, but also through the whole kingdom of
England and dominion of Wales, is very great and exceeding burdensome,
being occasioned by reason of some defects in the law concerning
the settlement of the poor, and for want of due provision of the
regulations of relief and employment in such parishes or places where
they are legally settled, which doth enforce many to turn incorrigible
rogues, and others to perish for want, together with the neglect of the
faithful execution of such laws and statutes as have formerly been made
for the apprehension of rogues and vagabonds, and for the good of the
poor."

It was therefore provided that any two justices of the peace should,
on complaint made by the churchwardens and overseers of the poor,
within forty days after the arrival of any new comer in the parish,
proceed to remove him by force to the parish where he had last a legal
settlement, either as native, householder, sojourner, apprentice or
servant, unless he either rented a house of ten pounds a year, or could
give such security against becoming chargeable as the judges should
deem sufficient. This was made more stringent by a subsequent Act, 1
James II. c. 17, which, to prevent any one from getting a settlement by
the neglect or oversight of the parish authorities, dated the day of
his entrance into the parish only from the time that he gave a written
notice of his new abode and the number of his family.

These enactments, in fact, converted the free labourers of England into
serfs. They were bound to the soil, and could not move from the spot
unless by the will of the overseers and justices. It was not necessary
that a man should become chargeable to the parish in order to effect
his removal; it was enough that the authorities could assume that he
might become so; and it was not till 1795--in fact, till the reign of
George III.--that this oppressive law was ameliorated, allowing working
people to change their abode as they saw a better chance of employment
elsewhere, so long as they did not come upon the parish.

The unsatisfactory state of pauperism to which the law of settlement
brought the kingdom set numbers of heads at work to plan schemes of
employing the destitute poor; and Sir Josiah Child proposed that
persons should be appointed for this purpose, to be called "the fathers
of the poor." This seems to be the origin of the modern guardians of
the poor. It was too early in the history of endeavour to educate and
employ the poor, for these recommendations to receive much general
attention; but there were some individuals who set themselves zealously
to work to convert the swarming paupers into profitable workers and
respectable members of society. The most eminent of these were two
shopkeepers of London, Andrew Yarranton and Thomas Firmin. Yarranton
was a linendraper; and, being employed by "twelve gentlemen of England"
to bring over men from Saxony and Bohemia who understood the art of
tinning sheet-iron, he there made close observation of the manufacture
of linen, and conceived the idea of introducing the linen manufacture,
and employing the unemployed poor upon it and the manufacture of iron.
He went to Ipswich, to see whether the linen manufacture could not be
established there; but he found the poor already so well employed in
the stuff and say and Colchester trade, that he did not think it a
suitable place. He calculated the paupers at that time at a hundred
thousand, and reckoned that by employing this number at fourpence a
day each would occasion a profitable outlay amongst them of upwards of
six hundred thousand pounds, by which means almost the whole of the
poor-rates would be saved. In 1677 he published a book containing his
views called "England's Improvement by Sea and Land," showing how to
set at work all the poor of England, with the growth of our own lands;
to prevent unnecessary suits at law, with the benefits of a voluntary
register; where to procure vast quantities of timber for the building
of ships, with the advantage of making the great rivers of England
navigable. He gave rules for the prevention of fires in London and
other cities, and informed the several companies of handicraftsmen
how they might always have cheap bread and drink. In short, Mr.
Yarranton was a regularly speculative man, but one who had a good share
of calculating common sense in the midst of his manufacturing and
philanthropic schemes. Apparently he travelled the kingdom well, and
made careful observations as to the best localities for carrying on his
proposed trades; and he seems to have come to the conclusion that the
midland counties would be the best for the linen manufacture, and that
most people might be employed on it. The midland counties he regarded
as admirably adapted for the growth of flax, from the fertility of the
land, and for the trade, because of the easy conveyance of goods by
water on the rivers Trent, Soar, Avon, and Thames, from the counties of
Nottingham, Leicester, Warwick, Northampton, and Oxford. He found many
parts of England already so well supplied with manufactures, that he
did not think the poor required more work there; and his descriptions
of the manufactures going on in different parts of the island give a
lively view of the manufacturing industry of the time. "In the West
of England," he says, "clothing of all sorts, as in Gloucestershire,
Worcestershire, Shropshire, Staffordshire, and a small portion of
Warwickshire; in Derby, Nottingham, and Yorkshire, the iron and woollen
manufactures; in Suffolk, Norfolk, and Essex, the woollen manufacture;
in Kent, Sussex, and Surrey, some cloth, iron, and materials for
shipping. Then the counties to raise provisions and to vend them
at London, to feed that great mouth, are Cambridge, Huntingdon,
Buckingham, Hertford, Middlesex, and Berks."

A publication like this of Andrew Yarranton was calculated to produce
the most beneficial change in the condition of the people. It pointed
out the true resources and wealth of the nation, and showed a way to
get rid of pauperism, and at the same time to raise and enrich the
whole realm. It made landowners aware of the extent to which their
estates would be augmented in value by the introduction of popular
industries; and one of its most immediate effects seems to have been
its influence on Yarranton's fellow London shopkeeper, Mr. Thomas
Firmin.

In "The Life of Mr. Thomas Firmin, late citizen of London, written by
one of his most intimate acquaintance," 1698, we learn that he was a
shopkeeper of Leadenhall Street. We learn, moreover, that he was born
at Ipswich in 1632, and began the world as a tradesman with a hundred
pounds. His character for probity and ability was already such that he
flourished, married a citizen's daughter with five hundred pounds, and
in process of time occupied superior premises in Lombard Street. Here,
though a confirmed Unitarian, and entertaining the celebrated Unitarian
leader, Mr. Biddle, and procuring him an allowance of one hundred
crowns from Cromwell whilst he was kept prisoner in Scilly, yet he was
on intimate terms with Dr. Tillotson, and many other eminent Churchmen.
Though not bearing on our main subject, the following extract is worth
diffusing amongst the religious of to-day:--"During the imprisonment
of Mr. Biddle at Scilly, Mr. Firmin was settled in Lombard Street,
where first Mr. Jacomb, then Dr. Outram, was minister. With these two,
being excellent preachers and learned men, he maintained a respectful
and kind friendship. Now also he grew into intimacy with Dr. Whichcot,
Dr. Worthington, Dr. Wilkins, afterwards Bishop of Chester; Mr.
Tillotson (for he was not yet doctor), Archbishop of Canterbury; but in
their dignity, and to their very last, Mr. Firmin had the same place
and degree in their friendship and esteem that at any time formerly
he had. While Dr. Tillotson preached the Tuesday's lecture at St.
Lawrence, so much frequented by all the divines of the town, and by
a great many persons of quality and distinction, when the doctor was
obliged to be at Canterbury, where he was dean, or was out of town,
either for diversion or health, he generally left it to Mr. Firmin
to provide preachers for his lecture; and Mr. Firmin never failed
to supply his place with some very eminent preacher, so that there
never was a complaint on the account of Dr. Tillotson's absence; and
this Mr. Firmin could easily do, for now there was hardly a divine of
note, whether in London or in the country, that frequented London,
but Mr. Firmin was become acquainted with him; which thing helped
him much to serve the interests of many hopeful young preachers and
scholars, candidates for lectures, schools, cures, or rectories, for
whom he would solicit with as much affection and diligence as other
men do for their sons or other near relations. See here a trader, who
knew no Latin or Greek, no logic or philosophy, compassed about by an
incredible number of learned friends who differed so widely in opinion
from him."

The secret of it was Firmin's freedom from bigotry, and his perfectly
benevolent character. When the Plague broke out in 1665, which carried
off nearly a hundred thousand people, and left vast numbers destitute
from the flight of the employers, Firmin seized on the plan of
manufacturing linen, so earnestly recommended by Yarranton, and this
upon a method first set on foot by Thomas Gouge, the clergyman of St.
Sepulchre's. This was to buy up both flax and hemp rudely dressed, and
give it out to the poor to spin at their own homes. He built a house in
Aldersgate, which he called his great work-house, or spinning-house,
and there he gave out the flax and hemp, and took in the yarn. The
object of Firmin was not to make money by the speculation, but to
allow the poor people all the profit; and, indeed, he allowed them
more, for he sank a considerable sum of money in it. But he was fast
growing rich, and he was too wise to allow himself to become the slave
of riches; and though from six hundred pounds his capital had grown
to twenty thousand pounds, he determined not to leave more than five
thousand pounds behind him. His object was to employ the people instead
of giving them money as a charity; and he observed that he found it
greatly to the relief of the poor; for that they could earn threepence
or fourpence a day, working only such times as they could spare from
any other occupations, "who, being at work in their own homes, and
where they could with convenience attend it, many of them became so
much pleased with it, that so much money given them for doing nothing
would not have done them half so much good as that which they got by
their own labour in this employment."

But Firmin had not studied the dry rules of political economy, and had,
therefore, no objection to give money too where he saw it was needed.
He had studied in the school of Christ, who said, "The poor ye have
always with you"; and "What you do to one of these little ones you do
also unto me." He was not opposed to all almshouses and hospitals,
lest people should calculate on them and grow lazy. Concerning this
work-house and the spinners, he would often say that "to pay the
spinners, to relieve 'em with money begged for 'em, with coals and
sheeting, was to him such a pleasure as magnificent buildings, pleasant
walks, well-cultivated orchards and gardens, the jollity of music and
wine, or the charms of love or study, are to others."

The East India and Guinea Companies, as well as many private persons,
took his goods; and the Fire of London, following the Plague, gave him
plenty of work to do in the way of assisting the destitute. Firmin
added woollen spinning and weaving to the spinning of flax and hemp;
but, after all, he considered the making of linens the most adapted to
employ the people in such circumstances. "I know of no commodity of the
like value," he says, "that can be set up with less stock. Three parts
of four, even of that cloth which comes not to above two shillings an
ell, will be paid for work to the spinner and weaver; and many times a
woman will spin a pound of flax that cost but sixpence or sevenpence to
that fineness, that she will receive twelvepence or fourteenpence for
her pains, which will make an ell of cloth worth three shillings; at
which rate five parts of six will be paid for labour: nay, sometimes I
have seen a pound of flax, not worth above one and sixpence at most,
spun to that fineness that it hath been worth ten shillings; and in
other parts I have seen a pound of flax of not much higher value spun
to that fineness that it hath been worth three or four pounds sterling."

Firmin next set children to work in schools of industry--a plan again
introduced as new in our own day. The idea, he confesses, came from
abroad, but he had the honour of introducing it in England. "I have,"
he says, "at this time some children working for me, not above seven or
eight years old, who are able to earn twopence a day, and some, that
are a little older, two shillings a week; and I doubt not to bring any
child about that age to do the like; and still, as they grow up and
become proficients, even in this poor trade of spinning, they will be
able to get more and spin better than older people. Neither would I
have those schools confined only to spinning, but to take in knitting,
and make lace or plain work, or any other work which children shall be
thought most fit for." He then refers to the foreign practice, and to
the fact of children being employed at Norwich, where it was computed
that they had earned twelve thousand pounds more than they had spent in
knitting fine Jersey stockings.

This was a plan admirable for teaching children all kinds of businesses
and household work, but liable to enormous abuses; and the trading
community seized on it and carried it into coal mines, and cotton and
other factories, to that fearful extent of cruelty that compelled the
Legislature of our time to step in and protect the unhappy children.
Firmin's honest and benevolent mind did not foresee this evil use of
the idea; yet he was by no means incautious. He used to beg often as
much as five hundred pounds a year, and distribute it amongst the poor;
but he always took pains to inquire into cases of real necessity, and
visited the sufferers in their own houses to convince himself of their
actual distress.

In Yarranton, Gouge, and Firmin we see the pioneers of that great host
of philanthropists who have from time to time followed in their steps,
till now the whole country is alive with schools, ragged schools,
reformatories, schemes of industry, and the numerous institutions which
are on foot to improve the condition of the poor. In that age we see
the germs of the vast manufacturing system which has made one great
workshop of Britain, and caused its redundant population to overflow
to the amount of nearly a quarter of a million a year into other
countries and hemispheres, carrying their industrious habits and skill
to found new nations. Indeed, taking altogether the age under review,
notwithstanding the dissoluteness of the Government and the selfishness
of the upper and middle classes, and the roughness of the lower, it
was an epoch in which the elements of future greatness were rife. The
rigour and independence which punished the tyranny of Charles I., and
created the Commonwealth, though they seemed to recede in Charles II.'s
reign, again displayed themselves under James II., and driving away
the impracticable Stuarts, established an elective monarchy, the Bill
of Rights, and religious freedom. In that period philanthropy became
united with manufacturing and commercial enterprise, whence have sprung
the glory and greatness of England; and then, too, in the writings of
Child, Davenant, Petty, and others, dawned the first principles of
political economy, afterwards elaborated into a system by Adam Smith,
and still perfecting itself as a science by the correction of its
errors, and the blending of a spirit of humanity with its original
exactness of deduction. The great principles of the Commonwealth
moulding the monarchy at the Revolution to its demands, settled
permanently the liberties and the ascendency of the English race.

[Illustration: GREAT SEAL OF WILLIAM AND MARY.]

CHAPTER XII.

REIGN OF WILLIAM AND MARY.

Accession of William and Mary--Discontent of the Church and
the Army--William's First Ministry--His Dutch Followers--The
Convention becomes a Parliament--Oath of Allegiance--Settlement
of the Revenue--Suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act--The Mutiny
Bill--Settlement of Religion--The Coronation--Declaration of War
with France--Violence of the Revolution in Scotland--Parties
in the Scottish Parliament--Letter from James--Secession of
Dundee--Edinburgh in Arms--Settlement of the Government--Dundee
in the Highlands--Battle of Killiecrankie--Mackay Concludes
the War--The Revolution in Ireland--Panic among the
Englishry--Londonderry and Enniskillen Garrisoned--Negotiations
of Tyrconnel--His Temporary Success--Landing of James--He Enters
Dublin--His Journey into Ulster--The Siege of Londonderry--It
is Saved--Legislation of the Irish Parliament--Arrival of
Schomberg--Factiousness of the English Whigs--State of the English
Army in Ireland--Renewed Violence of the Whigs--The Corporation
Act Thrown Out--William Threatens to Leave England--Dissolution
of Parliament--Tory Reaction--Venality of the New
Parliament--Settlement of the Revenue--Whig Propositions--The Act
of Grace--Preparations for War--A Jacobite Plot--William goes to
Ireland--Progress of the War under Schomberg--Gradual Improvement
of his Position and Ruin of the Jacobite Army--The Battle of the
Boyne--Flight of James--William Enters the Irish Capital--News
from England--Siege of Limerick--Battle of Beachy Head--Landing of
the French in Torbay--Courage of the English People--Settlement
of Scotland--Marlborough's Successes in Ireland--Parliament
Grants Liberal Supplies--Preston's Plot Thwarted--William
Sets Out for Holland--Vigour of Louis--Fall of Mons--Trial of
Jacobite Conspirators--Treason in High Places--Punishment of the
Non-Jurors--The Continental Campaign--Condition of Ireland--Arrival
of St. Ruth--Siege of Athlone--Battle of Aghrim--Second Siege and
Capitulation of Limerick.

William of Orange had now fully succeeded in his enterprise. By the
resolution of the two Houses of Parliament on the 13th of February,
1689, he was admitted to hold the Crown for his life in conjunction
with his wife, who was not merely queen consort, but queen regnant.
They were declared to be elected to that office and dignity by the free
choice of the nation. They could neither of them claim the Crown by
direct succession, for James was alive, and protesting against the idea
of his abdication. Mary could not claim by succession, even if James
had abdicated; for, although there had been much endeavour to prove
the infant son of James a supposititious child, the effort had failed.
There was no sufficient proof of the fact, but much evidence against
it; and nobody now doubts that the infant who afterwards acquired the
name of the Pretender was the real son of James and the queen. Had the
right of succession been admitted, neither William nor Mary could have
succeeded; but this right was now, in fact, denied. The right for the
subjects to elect their own monarchs was proclaimed by the Bill of
Rights; and by that right, and no other, William and Mary sat on the
English throne.

But splendid as was the position which William had achieved--that of
the monarch of one of the very first kingdoms of the world--his throne
was no bed of roses. The Catholics and the Tories still retained their
old leaning towards James. True, many of the Tories had been greatly
embittered against James by his later measures, but now that he was
deposed, and a monarch sat on the throne who had been notoriously
brought in by the Whigs, a strong reaction took place in them. They
professed surprise at William assuming the sceptre; they pretended
that they had expected from his declaration that he intended only to
assist them in bringing James to reason, and in putting him under
proper constitutional restraints. Numbers of them were already in
full correspondence with the banished prince. The clergy were equally
disaffected. They had resisted the attempts of James to bring in
Popery, but they had now got a Presbyterian king, and were not very
sanguine of his support of the hierarchy.

[Illustration: KENSINGTON PALACE. (_From a Photograph by F. G. O.
Stuart, Southampton._)]

Similar feelings prevailed in the army. It had been powerful in
numbers, but had done nothing to withstand a foreign prince at the head
of foreign troops marching through the country, and placing himself on
the throne. They had not been exactly defeated, because they had not
come to a regular engagement; but they saw a foreign prince, supported
by his foreign troops, presiding in the country; and though not beaten,
they felt humbled, and were now as near to mutiny as they had been
ready to revolt under James.

As for the Whig party, which had invited and supported William, they
were only eager for office and emolument. It was not patriotism in the
bulk of them which animated them, but the triumph of their party; and
they thought that nothing could ever pay them for the favour they had
conferred on William. The accounts of those writers who were present
and cognisant of their proceedings represent them as clamorous for
place, honour, and emolument, no one thinking that William could do
enough for them, and every one ready to upbraid him for giving to
others those posts to which they thought they were more entitled.

His first public measure was to announce that all Protestant subjects
who were in office on the 1st of December last should retain their
posts till further notice. On the 17th of February he published
the list of his Privy Council, which contained men of almost all
parties--Danby, Halifax, and even old Sancroft, the Archbishop of
Canterbury, in order to show the Church that its interests would be
protected. This and all other endeavours, however, failed to win over
the High Church prelate.

If some of the members of the Council gazed at each other in
astonishment to find themselves included in one body, still more
was that the case with the Ministry. Danby, though a Tory, was made
President of the Council; but whilst this offended others, who
remembered that he had opposed the idea of the throne being vacant,
though he had resisted the appointment of a regency, he himself was
woefully disappointed in not receiving the White Staff. But William
neither now nor till the end of his reign entrusted the office of Lord
High Treasurer to a single person, but put it in commission. On the
other hand, Halifax, who had not joined William's party till the last
moment, received again the Privy Seal, and was continued Speaker of
the House of Lords, to the great disgust of the Whigs, who remembered
how long he had deserted them, and how successfully he had opposed
them on the question of the Exclusion Bill. To add to their chagrin,
the Earl of Nottingham was made Secretary of State. Nottingham had
been foremost amongst those who had maintained the doctrine of passive
obedience; who had denied that the throne could for an instant become
vacant; who had declined to give up James or to call in William, but
had also led this party in submitting to the decision of the Convention
in favour of William and Mary, on the ground that we are enjoined
by the New Testament to be subject to the powers that be. The other
Secretary, the Earl of Shrewsbury, was indeed a Whig, and in the
highest favour with that party. He had been foremost in calling in
William; but then he was a mere youth, only eight-and-twenty years of
age. Admiral Herbert expected to be appointed Lord High Admiral, and to
have the entire control of the Admiralty; but he had the mortification
to see a number of others placed at the Board of Admiralty to share
his authority, though he bore nominally the name of First Lord of it.
Churchill expected to be made Master of the Ordnance for his treason to
James; but William had too certain evidence that he was at this very
moment a traitor to himself; was in correspondence with the Court of
St. Germain's, and believed that he would be one of the first to run
if any future success warranted a hope of James's restoration. He
was therefore appointed only to a post in the household, along with
Devonshire, Mordaunt, Oxford, Dorset, Lovelace, and others; whilst the
gallant foreigner Schomberg was made Master of the Ordnance.

Whilst the leaders, therefore, were deeply disappointed, all aspirants
to favour were extremely jealous of the three staunch Dutch adherents
of William--Bentinck, Overkirk, and Zulestein--whom William kept
about him with a very natural feeling, for they had been faithful
to him through all his arduous struggles in his own country, and
were now, indeed, almost the only men in whom he could put implicit
confidence. The main thing in which Danby, Halifax, Nottingham, and
Shrewsbury agreed was in complaining that William did not make them
his confidants, but preferred the secret advice of Bentinck, whom he
soon made Earl of Portland, and the counsel of Sidney, whom he created
Lord Sidney. William had but too much cause for keeping the knowledge
of his thoughts and intentions from those around him, for many amongst
his privy councillors and chief ministers would have betrayed them at
once to the exiled monarch. Danby had been heard to say, even after
James had quitted England, that if he would only abandon his priests,
he might come back again; and others besides Churchill were in regular
traitorous correspondence with James's Court. With all William's
caution, not a thing was discussed in his council but was immediately
transmitted to St. Germain's. To his trusty countrymen already
mentioned William gave profitable offices near his person. His great
friend Bentinck was made Groom of the Stole, with five thousand pounds
a year; Overkirk Master of the Horse; and Zulestein had charge of the
robes.

These arrangements being made, on the 18th of February, William,
for the first time, addressed the two Houses of Parliament. It is
remarkable that the very subject which he introduced to them was a
demand for liberal supplies to carry on the war on the Continent. He
had, he said, no choice in the matter, as France had already begun war
on England.

William reminded them, too, that their domestic affairs would demand
serious attention, and especially the condition of Ireland, where a
strong feeling was known to exist for the fallen dynasty, through the
interests of the Catholic religion. He exhorted them, moreover, to
take immediate measures for securing the despatch of business. This
alluded to the settlement of the great question whether the Convention
could continue to sit legally after the deposition of the monarch who
had called it. The question had been debated in the Council, and now,
on the king's retiring, the lords immediately laid on the table of
the House a Bill declaring the Convention a valid Parliament. It was
speedily carried and sent down to the Commons; but there it excited a
warm debate. The Whigs were vociferous for it; the Tories, who believed
that the calling of a new Parliament would be in their favour, were as
vehemently against it. The depositions of Edward II. and Richard II.
were referred to and strongly argued upon; but the case in point was
the Convention which recalled Charles II., and continued to sit and
act long after. Sir John Maynard moreover contended that, as they were
like men who found themselves in a trackless desert, it was not for
them to stand crying, "Where is the king's highway?" but to take the
track that would lead them out of it. That track was the precedent of
Charles II.'s reign. The House passed the Bill without a division, and
it received the Royal assent on the tenth day after the accession.

A clause in this Bill provided that, after the 1st of March, no person
could sit or vote in either House until he had taken the new oath of
allegiance to their majesties. Great excitement was occasioned by this
oath. It was hoped by the Tories and High Church there would be found
a sufficient number of persons of influence who would refuse the oath,
so as to render the seat of the new monarchs unstable, and open the way
to the return of James. Care was taken to consult the prejudices of
the adherents to the old notions of right divine as much as possible,
and the words "rightful and lawful sovereigns," after deliberation
were omitted; but this did not prevent many from refusing it. As the
day approached for taking the oath, the capital was full of rumours.
It was said that the Duke of Grafton had escaped to France in order
to reconcile himself to his uncle; and numerous other persons were
supposed to have followed his example. When the day arrived, however,
Grafton was one of the first to present himself; and the number of the
lords who declined it, amongst them the Earls of Clarendon, Lichfield,
and Exeter, with the Archbishop of Canterbury and some of the bishops,
was small. Of the bishops, five were of those who refused to obey the
commands of James to publish his Indulgence, and had been sent to the
Tower. Rochester, the brother of Clarendon, was expected to refuse
the oath, as he had adhered to James after Clarendon had abandoned
him; but Clarendon's income was secure from his estate. Rochester
had a pension of four thousand pounds a year, which he would lose if
he refused the oath--a strong argument, which seems to have proved
convincing, for he took the oath. Four hundred of the Lower House had
taken the oath on the 2nd of March, and amongst them Seymour, who had
led the Tory Opposition; but when the oath was extended to the clergy
and other individuals in office, above four hundred of the clergy,
including some of the most distinguished dignitaries, refused it; and
thus began the great schism of the non-jurors, who long continued to
figure as the unswerving advocates of divine right.

The next great question was that of the revenue. The Parliaments of
Charles and James had been exceedingly munificent in their grants of
income. In the heat of their loyalty at the Restoration, the Commons
forgot all the salutary fears of their predecessors, and gave up every
point for which they had contended with Charles I. Tonnage and poundage
were granted for life, and afterwards confirmed to James. They settled
on these monarchs half of the excise in perpetuity, and half for life.
The fixed revenue of Charles and James had been one million two hundred
thousand pounds, but the actual revenue had been a great deal more. It
was now found by examination of the accounts that James had been in the
annual receipt of no less than two millions, of which ninety thousand
pounds had been expended in secret service money. William had, since
arriving at Whitehall, been in the habit of collecting and applying
this magnificent revenue as chief of the State; and seemed to expect
that it would be now settled on him. The first question discussed was,
whether an income granted to a monarch for life could be received
legally by his successor in case of his abdication so long as he lived.
Many of the chief lawyers contended that the revenue was granted to
the monarch in his political capacity, and not to the man, and that,
therefore, the prince who came to discharge his official duties so
long as he lived was rightfully in receipt of it. But the more common
sense opinion prevailed, that the prince who superseded another by the
call of the nation must receive all his rights as well as his call
from the nation. The House therefore passed to the question of the
amount of the revenue, and they did not appear very much disposed to
use the same lavish folly towards William as they had done towards
the late monarchs. Instead of granting him a life revenue, they
granted him one million two hundred thousand pounds, the sum allowed
to Charles II., but only for three years, one half of which was to be
appropriated to the civil list, the other half to the public defences.
William was sensibly chagrined by this caution, and complained much of
want of confidence in him, and of unusual parsimony. He presented a
claim of seven hundred thousand pounds from the Dutch, the cost of the
expedition which had placed him on the throne. The Commons consented
to pay six hundred thousand pounds, and William received the sum for
his careful countrymen with a very ill grace. The Commons did not the
less displease him by reducing his demand for the navy from one million
one hundred thousand pounds to seven hundred thousand pounds, and
by granting the supply for the army for only six months; Sir Edward
Seymour all the time warning them that it was the foolish liberality of
Charles II.'s Parliament which enabled him to enslave the nation as he
had done.

[Illustration: WILLIAM III.]

One thing which did William great credit, however, was the
recommendation to the Commons to abolish the abominable hearth-tax. As
he had advanced from Torbay to London, the people had importuned him
on all sides to set aside this detestable tax, which had been farmed
out to rapacious collectors, who treated the people with every species
of insult, cruelty, and violence in enforcing payment of it. It was a
most unequal tax, which fell with disproportionate weight on the very
poor; for as it was levied, not by the value of the property, but by
the number of chimneys, the peasant in many cases paid nearly as much
as a man of really great substance; and where the money was not ready
when called for, the tax-gatherers forced open even bedrooms, and sold
the very bed from beneath the sick, and the table at which the family
sat. William was much impressed by its injustice, and, at his special
desire, the Act was repealed.

[Illustration: MARY II.]

Whilst in the midst of the money debates, a circumstance occurred which
materially hastened the decision, and no doubt increased the liberality
of the Commons. William announced to them that James had sailed from
Brest, with an armament, for Ireland. But the alarm of James's descent
on Ireland, and the disaffection in the army, roused the Commons from
their tone of caution. They passed resolutions of patriotic devotion
to the Crown, and in an address assured William that their lives and
fortunes were at his service in its defence. They went further. As
there were great numbers of political persons in custody--persons
openly disaffected to the present dynasty having been prudently secured
during the progress of the revolution,--now that the revolution was
completed, and authorised judges were once more on the bench, it was
feared that these prisoners would demand their habeas corpus, and come
forth at the very moment when all the adherents of James were on the
alert to watch the effect of his reception in Ireland. The Commons,
therefore, passed an Act to suspend the Habeas Corpus Act for the
present.

But simultaneously the Commons were passing another Act of scarcely
less significance. Hitherto there had been no military power of
controlling and punishing soldiers or officers who offended against
discipline or their oath. They were subject only to the civil
tribunals, and must be brought there, and tried and punished as any
other subjects. James had obtained from his servile judges a decision
that he might punish any deserter from his standard summarily; but
this was not law, and the Commons, now alarmed by an affair at
Ipswich, where a regiment of Scottish soldiers had mutinied, passed
an Act called the Mutiny Bill, by which any military offenders
might be arrested by military authority, and tried and condemned
by court-martial in perfect independence of the civil authority.
This Bill, which passed without a single dissentient vote, at once
converted the soldiers into a separate class, and in effect founded
what all parties disclaimed and affected to dread--a standing army.
Like the Act for the suspension of the Habeas Corpus, it was only for
a limited period; but the unsettled state of the kingdom at the moment
of its expiration caused it to be renewed, and it became a permanent
institution, though to this day we annually go through the ceremony of
formally renewing the Mutiny Bill.

The passing these extraordinary measures excited the alarm of many even
well-disposed to the revolution; but to the adherents of the Stuart
dynasty they afforded the opportunity for the most vehement declamation
against the new monarch. The person, the manners, the spirit, and
intentions of William were severely criticised. He was undeniably of a
close and gloomy temperament, and found it impossible to assume that
gaiety and affability of demeanour which to Charles II. were natural.
He had the manners and the accent of a foreigner, and chilled all those
who approached him at Court by his cold and laconic manners. In fact,
he knew that he was surrounded by traitors, and could unbend only in
the company of his Dutch favourites. He became extremely unpopular,
and not all the endeavours and the agreeable and cordial manners
of the queen could prevent the serious effect of his own reserved
temper. At the same time more was truly to be attributed to the force
of circumstances than to any bias of William towards tyranny. In one
direction William was anxious to extend the liberties of the nation.
He was for establishing the utmost freedom of religious opinion. He
would have abolished the Test Act, and granted free enjoyment of all
Christian creeds and of office to members of all denominations; but
though there was no fear of a leaning to Popery in him, he found
himself stoutly opposed in these intentions by his subjects. The Church
was split into High Church and Low Church, jurors and non-jurors; but
every party in the Church, and almost every body of Dissenters, was
averse from conceding any liberty of creed or capability of office to
the Catholics. Again, the Church was bent against admission of any one
to office who refused to subscribe to the Thirty-nine Articles, and to
take the oaths, not only of Allegiance but of Supremacy. Under these
circumstances William found it impossible to set aside the Test Act
or the Corporation Act; but he brought in and passed the celebrated
Toleration Act. Yet even this Act, from which we still date our
enjoyment of religious liberty, was circumscribed. It did not repeal
the obnoxious Act of Uniformity, the Five Mile Act, the Conventicle
Act, and those other statutes which so harassed and oppressed the
Dissenters; but it exempted them from their operation on certain
conditions. They must subscribe thirty-four out of the Thirty-nine
Articles, which most of them could do; the Baptists were excused from
professing belief in the efficacy of infant baptism; and the Quakers
from taking an oath if they professed a general belief in Christianity,
promised fidelity to the Government, and made a declaration against
transubstantiation. This Act, therefore, cautious and meagre as it
appeared, gave a freedom to the Dissenting world which it had hitherto
been destitute of.

William made a resolute effort also to heal the great schism of
the Church, and admit, by a comprehensive Bill, the main body of
Nonconformists. By this Bill as introduced, it was proposed to
excuse all ministers of the Established Church from the necessity of
subscribing the Thirty-nine Articles; they were only to make this
declaration: "I do approve of the doctrine, and worship, and government
of the Church of England by law established, as containing all things
necessary to salvation; and I promise in the exercise of my ministry
to preach and practise according thereunto." The same looseness
of declaration was extended to the two universities. Presbyterian
ministers could be admitted to the pulpits and livings of the Church
by accepting from a bishop a simple command to preach, administer the
sacraments, and perform all the ministerial offices of the Church.
Except in a few churches, the clergyman might wear the surplice or
not, as he wished; might omit the sign of the cross in baptism; might
christen children with or without godfathers and godmothers; might
administer the Sacrament to persons sitting or kneeling, as they
pleased. Besides this, the Bill proposed a Commission to revise the
liturgy, the canons, and the constitution of the ecclesiastical
courts. But it was soon found that no such sweeping changes could be
effected. There was no determined opposition to the revision of the
liturgy, but the danger to the rites on which the High Church laid so
much stress soon called forth powerful resistance. It was represented
that all manner of anomalous and contradictory practices would soon
rend to pieces the harmony and decorum of the Church. Presbyterian
and Puritan would set at defiance the most honoured practices of the
Establishment. The Dissenting body were as much alarmed as the High
Church. This wide door of admission to the Church, it was feared, would
draw away a whole host of their ministers and members; and as the Test
Act was by no means to be removed, they would thus become additionally
unable to contend for its future abolition. The Bill, after much
discussion and many modifications, fell to the ground.

[Illustration: COVENANTERS PREACHING.

FROM THE PICTURE BY SIR GEORGE HARVEY, R.S.A.,
IN THE CORPORATION ART GALLERY, GLASGOW.
]

The next attempt was to modify the Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy,
so as to accommodate the consciences of the Non-jurors; but it was
finally agreed that all persons holding ecclesiastical or academical
preferment who did not take the oaths before the 1st of August should
be suspended, a pecuniary allowance to the deprived, in some cases to
be at the option of the king, but not to exceed one-third of the income
forfeited. This was followed by the passing of a new Coronation Oath,
by which their majesties bound themselves to maintain the Protestant
religion as established by law, and the coronation took place on the
11th of April.

These domestic matters being thus settled, war was declared against
France on the 13th of May. The inhuman desolation of the Palatinate
in the preceding winter, where Louis's general, Duras, had laid waste
the whole country, burned down the towns, leaving all of that fertile
and populous district one black and terrible desert, had roused the
powers of Europe against him. Germany, Spain, Holland, and England all
prepared for vengeance, and the people and Parliament of England were
equally loud in denunciation of the worthless desolator.

Whilst these affairs had been progressing in England, Scotland had
been equally active. The Scots had even more profound cause of hatred
to James, and more hope of effectual relief from William, than the
English. In England the Church had managed to maintain its ascendency,
and the fierceness of persecution had been somewhat restrained. There
the iron boot and thumbscrews, and the fury of Tory troopers, had not
perpetrated the horrors that they had done north of the Tweed. The
Scots had had the hateful yoke of Episcopacy forced on them, their
Church completely put down, and their liberties in a variety of ways
crushed by the authorised licence of James's delegated ministers.

No sooner, therefore, had James fled than the suppressed feeling of the
people burst forth. At Edinburgh crowds assembled, took down the heads
of the slaughtered Whigs from the gates, and committed them in solemn
ceremony to the earth. The episcopal clergy were set upon in many parts
of Scotland, especially in the West, where the Covenanters prevailed,
and where they had suffered so much from the emissaries of the Church.
The Covenanters now chased them away from their manses, ransacked
them, turned their wives and children out, broke all the furniture, or
set fire to it. They tore the gown from the back of the clergyman if
they could catch him, destroyed all the prayer-books they could find,
locked up the church, and warned ministers not to be found there again.
Two hundred clergymen were thus forcibly ejected. Christmas Day was
selected for the commencement of this summary process, to mark their
abhorrence of such superstitious festivals. As amid this violence many
began to plunder, the Presbyterian ministers and elders assembled, and
resolved that in future every incumbent of a parish should have due
notice served on him to quit his parsonage peaceably, to avoid the
necessity of being driven out by force.

The bishops and dignitaries made an instant appeal to William for
protection, and a proclamation was issued--for William had no military
force in Scotland--ordering the people to desist from further violence
towards the clergy till the Parliament should determine the form of the
establishment. But so little regard was paid to it, that on the same
day that it was published at Glasgow, the mob rushed to the cathedral,
and drove out the congregation with sticks and stones.

On the 14th of March the Scottish Convention of Estates met. By the
able management of Sir James Dalrymple of Stair--afterwards Lord
Stair--and his son, Sir John Dalrymple, who was an able debater, it
was so managed that chiefly Whigs were returned. Sir James was a man
of great legal learning, and consummate talent, though of doubtful
character, who had been deprived of his position as a privy councillor
and Chief Lord of the Court of Session, and had gone over to Holland,
and was William's main adviser as to Scottish affairs. His son, Sir
John, longer continued to side with the Stuarts, and was made Lord
Advocate; but at the Revolution he appeared in the other party, and
was supposed to have been for some time in effect pledged to William's
cause in secret through his father. He at once declared for William
on his landing, and exerted himself zealously for his interests in
Scotland.

With the Dalrymples was associated George Lord Melville, who had also
been for some time with William in Holland. On the other hand, the
celebrated Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, and Colin Lindsay,
Earl of Balcarres, were the chief agents of James in Scotland. These
two leaders had pretended to go over to William, or at least to
acquiesce in the change of dynasty; had waited on him on his arrival at
Whitehall, and been well received by him. William was urged to arrest
these noblemen, as too deeply implicated in the tyrannies of James
and the murder of the Covenanters ever to be allowed to mingle with
the new order of things; but William would not listen to the advice,
determining to give every one a fair trial of living peaceably. So
far did they promise this, that William granted them an escort of
cavalry on their return to Scotland, without which they would not have
been allowed by the Covenanters to reach Edinburgh alive. The name of
Claverhouse was a horror in every Scottish home in the Lowlands, where
he was loathed for his terrible cruelties towards the Presbyterian
population.

No sooner did they reach Edinburgh than they set to work with all
possible activity to assist the interests of James in the Convention
and the country. The Duke of Gordon, who held the castle for James, was
on the point of surrendering it when they arrived; but they exhorted
him to hold out, and called upon all the Royalists who were elected
at the Convention to take their places and defend the absent king's
interests. When the Estates met, the Earl of Argyll, who had been
proscribed by James, took his seat amid the murmurs of the Jacobites,
who declared that, as a person under legal attainder, he was incapable
of performing any office in the State. This was, however, overruled
by the majority. Melville, who had been living abroad too, and had
reappeared with William, presented himself, but without any opposition.
The Duke of Hamilton was put in nomination by the Whigs for the
presidency of the Convention, and the Duke of Athol by the Jacobites.
Neither of them was a man whose conduct in the late reign was entitled
to respect. Hamilton had adhered to James to the last, and had
acquiesced in many invasions of the laws and liberties of Scotland;
Athol had not only been a violent partisan of James, but had fawned on
William immediately on his arrival, and, being coldly received, had
wheeled round again. Hamilton was chosen president; and the moment
this was discovered twenty of the Jacobites instantly went over to
the stronger side. It was a striking fact that in Scotland, while the
great body of the people had stood to the death for their principles,
the nobility had become so corrupt through compliance with the corrupt
Court, and in eagerness for office, that public principle was at the
lowest ebb amongst them.

The Convention having thus organised itself, sent a deputation to the
Duke of Gordon demanding the surrender of the castle, as its cannon
might at any moment knock in the roof of the Parliament House, and
drive thence the Convention. Gordon requested twenty-four hours to
consider the proposition; but Dundee and Balcarres again succeeded in
inducing him to hold out. The Convention determined to try the force of
arms. They summoned the castle to surrender in due form, and pronounced
the penalties of high treason on all who dared to occupy it in defiance
of the Estates. They called out a guard to stop communication with the
castle, and made preparations for a regular siege of the fortress. The
next day a messenger arrived from King James with a letter, which, on
being read, was found to be a furious denunciation of the Convention,
and of every one who had shown a willingness to receive William. At
the same time it offered pardon to all traitors who should return to
their duty in a fortnight, with the alternative, if they refused, of
the utmost vengeance of the Crown. There was no regret for any past
acts which might have tended to alienate his subjects, no promises of
future redress. The very friends of the king, whom nothing could alter
or improve, were astonished and dispirited, and they stole away out of
the Convention, pursued through the streets by the groans and curses
of the crowd. At the same time, a letter was read from William, modest
and liberal, trusting to the result of the free deliberations of the
Estates. James, as was always the case with him, had done incalculable
service to the cause of his rival. His most bigoted adherents could
not avoid seeing that, were he restored to the throne, he would only
continue to pursue the blind and foolish course which had already
driven him from it. What added to the disgust of all parties was, that
the letter was countersigned by Melfort, James's Secretary of State--a
furious Papist and apostate from Protestantism, and nearly equally
abhorred by both Protestants and Catholics.

[Illustration: COVENANTERS EVICTING AN EPISCOPALIAN CLERGYMAN. (_See
p._ 403.)]

The Royalists, thus hopeless of effecting anything in the Convention,
and yet unwilling to yield up the cause, adopted the advice of
Dundee and Balcarres, who had the authority of James to open a rival
Convention at Stirling. Athol consented to go with them; but on
Monday, the 18th, he showed a fear of so far committing himself, and
requested the party to wait for him another day. But the case of Dundee
did not admit even a day's delay. The Covenanters of the West, whom
Hamilton, and the Dalrymples had summoned to Edinburgh, and who for
some time had come dropping in in small parties, till all the cellars
and wynds of the city were thronged with them, vowed to kill the hated
persecutor; and he made haste to flee, accompanied by his dare-devil
followers, all as well-known to, and as detested by, the Covenanters
as himself for their atrocities in the West. Whilst the Convention
was in deliberation, sentinels from the castle hurried in to say that
Claverhouse had galloped up to the foot of the fortress on the road to
Stirling, accompanied by a detachment of his horsemen, and that he had
climbed up the precipice high enough to hold a conversation with Gordon.

At this news the Convention was thrown into a tumult of indignation.
Hamilton ordered the doors to be locked, and the keys laid on the
table, so that no one should go out but such persons as should be sent
by the assembly to call the citizens to arms. By this means all such
Royalists as were in became prisoners till such time as the citizens
were ready. Lord Leven, the second son of Lord Melville, who inherited
the title of old General Leslie in right of his mother, was sent to
call the Covenanters to arms; and presently the streets were thronged
with the men of the West in rude military array, sufficient to ensure
the safety of the Estates. As the drums beat to arms, Dundee descended
from the rock and, waving his cap, with the cry that he went to where
the spirit of Montrose called him, rode off towards Stirling.

The Convention now proceeded with their business. They sent a letter
of thanks to William, which the bishops to a man refused to sign;
the Bishop of Edinburgh having, as chaplain, before prayed for the
return of James. William has been said to have privately wished that
Episcopacy might be established in Scotland; but, if so, such specimens
of the prelatic spirit there must have gone far to extinguish that
desire. Other symptoms of opposition were not wanting, even yet. The
Duke of Queensberry arrived from London, and revived the spirits of the
Jacobites. Again they urged the Duke of Gordon to fire on the city, but
he refused; and the chances of resistance were now taken away by the
arrival of General Mackay with the three regiments of Scots who had
served under William in Holland. The Convention immediately appointed
Mackay general of their forces; and, thus placed at their ease, they
proceeded to arrange the government. They appointed a committee, after
the manner of the Lords of the Articles, to draw up the plan which
should be adopted. As a last means of postponing this business, a
proposal was made by the Jacobites to join with the Whigs to concert a
scheme of union of the kingdom with England. This was a scheme which
was now growingly popular. During the Commonwealth the trade of England
had been opened to Scotland. All custom-houses, and levying of duties
on goods imported or exported between the countries, had been removed.
The Scots had been admitted to perfect freedom of foreign trade
with England, and the benefit had become too apparent to be lightly
relinquished. But, on the Restoration, all this had been altered. The
old and invidious restrictions had been renewed, and the great loss of
wealth thus induced had wonderfully modified the spirit of national
pride which opposed the abandonment of the ancient independence
of the nation. The Dalrymples and Lord Tarbet were favourable to
this proposition, but the Convention at large was too wise to
endanger the defeat of the acknowledgment of the new sovereign by an
indefinitely-prolonged debate on so vital a question. They proceeded
to declare that James, by his misconduct, had "forfaulted" his right
to the crown; that is, that he had forfeited it--a much more manly
and correct plea than that James had "abdicated," which he continued
to protest that he never had done, and he was at this moment in arms
with Ireland asserting his unrelinquished claim to it. As the term
"forfaulted," according to Scottish law, would have excluded all his
posterity, an exception was made in favour of Mary and Anne, and their
issue. This resolution was warmly defended by Sir John Dalrymple, and
as warmly by Sir James Montgomery, the member for Ayrshire, who had
been a determined champion of the Covenanters; and was resisted by the
bishops, especially by the Archbishop of Glasgow. It was carried with
only five dissentient voices, and was then read at the Market Cross,
in the High Street, by Hamilton, attended by the Lord Provost and the
heralds, and the Earl of Argyll, the son of James's decapitated victim.
Sir John Dalrymple and Sir James Montgomery were deputed to carry it,
with the second resolution that the crown should be offered to William
and Mary, to London. To define on what principles this offered transfer
of the crown was made, a Claim of Right, in imitation of the English
Bill of Rights, was drawn up and accompanied it.

But with the acknowledgment of William as King of Scotland he was
far from having acquired a state of comfort. In both his Governments
his ministers and pretended friends were his continual tormentors.
In England his Council and his chief ministers were at daggers
drawn--every one dissatisfied with the post he occupied, jealous of the
promotion of his rivals, and numbers of them in close correspondence
with the Court of James. In Scotland it was precisely the same; it was
impossible to satisfy the ambition and the cupidity of his principal
adherents. The Covenanters were exasperated because the Episcopalians
were merely dismissed from the Establishment, and were not handed
over to retaliation of all the injuries they had received from them.
Sir James Montgomery, who expected a much higher post, was offered
that of Chief Justice Clerk, and refused it with disdain. He at once
concerted plans of opposition, and made his attack amidst a whole
host of similarly disappointed aspirants. Amongst these were two who
had been in the insurrections of Monmouth and Argyll--Sir Patrick
Hume and Fletcher of Saltoun, men of great ability, but of reckless
and insubordinate character. A club was formed, in which these men,
with Montgomery, the Lords Annandale and Ross, and a whole tribe of
minor malcontents, did all in their power to thwart and embarrass the
government of William. The chief promotion had been conferred on the
Duke of Hamilton, who was made Lord High Commissioner; the Earl of
Crawford, a very indigent, but very bitter Presbyterian, who before
this appointment did not know where to get a dinner, was made President
of Parliament; Sir James Dalrymple was appointed the Principal Lord
of Session, and his son, Sir John, was restored to his office of Lord
Advocate. Lord Melville became Secretary of State, and Sir William
Lockhart Solicitor-General. But whilst some of these thought they ought
to have had something higher or more lucrative, there were scores for
whom the limited administration of Scotland afforded no situation in
accordance with their own notions of their merits, and these hastened
to join the opposition.

Meanwhile Dundee was exerting himself in the Highlands to rouse the
clans in favour of King James. But this he found an arduous matter.
The Highlanders, at a distance from the scenes and the interests which
divided both England and the Lowlands of Scotland, occupied with their
hunting and their own internal feuds, cared little for either King
James or King William. If anything, they would probably have given the
preference to William, for James had more than once sent his troops
after them to chastise them for their inroads into the domains of
their Saxon fellow-subjects. Dundee himself had retired to his own
estate, and offered to remain at peace if he received from William's
ministers a pledge that he should not be molested. But, unfortunately
for him, an emissary from James in Ireland, bearing letters to Dundee
and Balcarres, was intercepted, and immediately Balcarres was arrested,
and Dundee made his escape into the Highlands. There, though he could
not move any of the clans by motives of loyalty to declare for James,
he contrived to effect this object through their own internal enmities.
Most of them had an old and violent feud with the clan Campbell. The
Argyll family had, through a long succession of years, extended its
territories and its influence over the Western Highlands at the expense
of the other clans, some of which it had nearly extirpated; and now
the head of the family came back from exile in the favour of the
new monarch, and all these clans, the Stuarts, the Macnaghtens, the
Camerons, the Macdonalds, the Macleans, were in alarm and expectation
of a severe visitation for past offences, and for unpaid feudal dues.
They were, therefore, moved from this cause to unite against William,
because it was to unite against MacCallum More, the chieftain of
Argyll. If William was put down, Argyll was put down. Whilst Dundee was
busy mustering these clans, and endeavouring to reconcile their petty
jealousies and bring them to act together, he sent earnestly to James
in Ireland to despatch to him a tolerable body of regular troops, for
without them he despaired of keeping long together his half savage
and unmanageable Highlanders. Till then he avoided a conflict with
the troops sent by the Convention under Mackay against him. It was in
vain that Mackay marched from one wild district to another; the enemy
still eluded him amongst the intricate fastnesses and forests of the
Highlands till his troops were wearied out with climbing crags, and
threading rugged defiles and morasses; and he returned to quarters
in Stirling, Aberdeen, and other towns at the foot of the mountain
district.

It was the opinion of Lord Tarbet, who understood the statistics of the
Highlands well, that, if William would send about five thousand pounds
to enable the clans to discharge their debts to the Earl of Argyll,
and obtain from that chieftain an assurance that he would abstain from
hostilities against them, they would all submit at once, and leave
Dundee to find support where he could. But his advice was attempted to
be carried out in so absurd a manner, by choosing an agent from the
clan Campbell as the mediator on the occasion, that the clans refused
to treat with him, and became all the more devoted to the interests of
James.

Things were in this position when in June a civil contention broke
out in Athol. The marquis, unwilling to declare for either side, had
retired to England, and his eldest son, Lord Murray, who had married a
daughter of the Duke of Hamilton, and declared for King William, was
opposed by the marquis's steward, who declared for King James. The
steward held Blair Castle, and Lord Murray besieged him in it. This
called out Dundee to repel Murray and support the steward, the adherent
of James; and Mackay, hoping now to meet with him, put his forces in
march for the place of strife. The two armies, in fact, at length came
into contact in the stern pass of Killiecrankie, near Dunkeld. This was
then one of the wildest and most terrible defiles in the Highlands; the
mountain torrent of the Garry roaring through its deep and rocky strait.

The forces of Dundee consisted of about three thousand Highlanders,
and a body of Irish, under an officer of the name of Cannon, amounting
to about three hundred, an ill-armed and ragged rabble whom James had
sent over instead of the efficient regiments for which Dundee had so
earnestly prayed. On the other hand, Mackay commanded about the same
number of regular troops; these were the three Scottish regiments which
he had brought from Holland, a regiment of English infantry--afterwards
the Thirteenth of the Line--and two regiments of Lowland Scots, newly
raised, commanded by the Lords Kenmore and Leven. He had, besides, two
troops of horse, one of which was led by Lord Belhaven.

On the morning of Saturday, the 17th of June, Mackay had just
struggled through the pass of Killiecrankie, his twelve hundred
baggage-horses--for no wheel-carriages could approach such a
place--were scarcely through, when the enemy was upon them. The men had
thrown themselves down on an open space on the banks of the Garry, to
recover from their fatigue, when they were called to resume their arms
by the appearance of Dundee leading on his troops of wild Highlanders.
Cameron of Lochiel, a man of distinguished bravery and ability, was
second in command, and urged Dundee to come to an engagement without
the least delay. The two armies drew up, that of Mackay with the Garry
on its left, that of Dundee with the stream on its right. Lord Murray
and the few forces with him united with the forces of Mackay.

It was early in the afternoon when the hostile parties began to fire on
each other, and the regular troops of Mackay did considerable execution
on the Highlanders; yet it was seven o'clock in the evening before
Dundee gave the order to charge. Then the Highlanders raised a wild
shout, which was returned by the enemy with a cry so much less lively
and determined, that Lochiel exclaimed, "We shall do it now; that is
not the cry of men who are going to win." The Highlanders dropped
their plaids and rushed forward. They were received by a steady fire
of the Lowlanders; but, as these prepared to charge with the bayonet,
they were so much delayed by the nature of the operation--having,
according to the practice of the time, to stick the bayonets into the
muzzles of their guns, instead of, as now, having them already fixed
beneath them--that the Highlanders were down upon them before they were
prepared, and cut through and through their lines. Having discharged
their fire-arms, the Celts threw them away, and assailed the Lowland
troops with dirk and claymore. The whole of the Scottish regiments
broke, and were scattered like leaves before a whirlwind. Balfour
was killed at the head of his regiment; Mackay's brother fell whilst
gallantly endeavouring to keep together his men; and Mackay himself was
compelled to give way. The English horse were yet on the ground, and
Mackay spurred towards them, and called on them to charge and break
the onslaught of the furious Highlanders on the foot; but he called in
vain; in spite of the brave example of Belhaven, the horse fled as
fast as their steeds could carry them. There was nothing for it but for
Mackay to endeavour to save himself; and, followed by only one servant,
he managed to cut his way through the enemy and reach a neighbouring
height.

There the scene that presented itself was astounding. His whole
army had vanished except the English regiment, which kept together
in perfect order, and a few of the troops of Lord Leven. These had
poured a murderous fire into the ranks of the Highlanders, and still
shot numbers of them down as in fiery rage they pursued the flying
Lowlanders down the ravine, where the confused mass of enemies were
plunged in chaotic strife--one violent, horrid effort to escape or
to kill. In this strange _mêlée_ were involved the twelve hundred
pack-horses, which alone effected a diversion for the fugitives, the
Highlanders stopping to make themselves masters of so rich a booty.

Mackay lost no time in getting the English regiment, with Lord Leven
and his remnant of men, and such few others as he could collect, across
the Garry. This being effected he halted, and again looked back,
expecting that he should be hotly pursued, but no such thing; the
Highlanders were, in fact, too agreeably detained by the plunder. But
this supposition did not account to him for the easy manner in which
such a general as Dundee allowed of his retreat, and he declared to his
guards that he was sure Dundee must have fallen. And in this opinion he
was right. Dundee had fallen in the very commencement of the general
charge. He had led it on, contrary to the advice of Lochiel, who had
urged on him the necessity of not exposing himself too much. Waving his
hat, and calling his soldiers to follow him, he dashed forward, when a
bullet struck him below the cuirass, which was raised by his action of
rising in his stirrups and waving his arm, and he fell to the ground.
The tradition of the Highlands is, that Dundee was believed to have
made a compact with the devil, and bore a charmed life, which no ball
of lead or iron could touch; that a soldier of Mackay's army, seeing
him galloping unharmed amid showers of flying balls, plucked a silver
button from his own coat, and fired at him with instant effect. The
fall of the general was observed only by a few of his own soldiers who
were near him, and one of them caught him in his arms. He asked, "How
goes the day?" "Well for King James," said the man, "but I am sorry
for your lordship." "If it be well for the king," replied Dundee, "it
matters the less for me," and expired.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF KILLIECRANKIE: THE LAST CHARGE OF DUNDEE.
(_See p._ 408.)]

Mackay made his way over the mountains by Weem Castle and Castle
Drummond to Stirling. On the way he overtook the fugitives from
Ramsay's regiment, who had fled at the first onset. They were
completely cowed and demoralised; and it was only by threatening to
shoot any man that left the track that he could prevent them from
dispersing amongst the hills. Many of them, after all, managed to elude
his vigilance, and were killed by the Highlanders for their clothes.
It was reported that Mackay lost two thousand men in the battle, and
that five hundred were made prisoners; but, on the other hand, a
great number of the Highlanders fell on the field. The rest, before
retreating with the booty, piled a great heap of stones on the spot
where Claverhouse fell. This is still shown, and is the only monument
of John Graham, Viscount Dundee, for the Church of Blair Athol in which
he was buried has long since disappeared, and his tomb with it.

The news of the defeat of Mackay caused consternation throughout the
Lowlands, and even in London, whither it was carried by couriers
charged with earnest appeals to the king to hasten forces on to
Scotland, to protect the people from the torrents of victorious
barbarians from the mountains, who were with terror expected to
devastate the whole country. The Scottish Convention urged Hamilton to
dismiss them, that they might provide for their safety; but fast on the
heels of the first news came that of the certain death of Dundee, which
at once reassured the country; for, without him, the Highlanders were
regarded as comparatively innocuous, as a body without a head. And this
was very near the truth; for the command had now fallen on the Irish
officer Cannon, who, with his ragamuffin brigade, was not likely to
remain long very formidable. In fact, he very soon managed to disgust
the proud Highland chieftains. Lochiel returned home, and many of the
Celts, satisfied with their plunder, followed his example. Others,
however, stimulated by the hope of similar good fortune, came rushing
from their hills, adding, by their conflicting prejudices and wild
insubordination, only to the weakness of the force. Cannon dispatched
a party of the Robertsons into the Lowlands to collect cattle and
provisions for his army; but Mackay came upon them at St. Johnstone's,
and killed one hundred and twenty of them, and took thirty prisoners.
This revived the spirit of his troops, and infused new confidence
through the country. In fact, Mackay was an excellent general, and was
unremitting in his exertions to renew the courage and discipline of his
troops. He had seen the fatal effect of the clumsy use of the bayonets
at Killiecrankie, and he lost no time in having them made to screw upon
the muskets, so that these could be fired with them ready fixed.

And very soon he had need of all his generalship. The ministers at
Edinburgh had ordered him to garrison Dunkeld with the Cameronian
regiment newly raised. The town was unfortified; and in vain Mackay
protested against exposing his men thus to the attack of the whole body
of the Highlanders encamped at Blair Castle. But the Highland army,
led on by Cannon, were received with a spirit worthy of the old race
of Covenanters, were repulsed, and driven back with great slaughter.
The young commander Lieutenant-Colonel Cleland, and after him Captain
Monro, fell at the head of the besieged; but the victory was decisive.
The Highlanders dispersed with their booty to their homes; Cannon, with
his disorderly Irish, escaped to the Isle of Mull; the fame of Mackay
and his troops was higher than ever, and the war in Scotland was at an
end.

We have continued to this point the affairs of Scotland, that we might
not interrupt the still more important transactions which at the same
time took place in Ireland. On the 12th of March, two days before the
opening of the Scottish Convention, James had landed in Ireland. That
island was peculiarly open to the influence of James, for the bulk of
the population were Catholics, and they were thrown into a state of
great excitement by the hope of being able to drive the Protestants
from their estates by his appearance there with a French army, of
wreaking vengeance on them for all their past oppressions, and of
regaining their ancient patrimony.

From the moment almost that James had mounted the throne of England, he
began his preparations for putting down Protestantism in Ireland, and
raising a military power there which should enable him to crush it also
in England. The Protestant judges had been removed one after another
from the bench, so that little justice could be obtained in Irish
tribunals by Protestant suitors. The Protestants were diligently weeded
out of the army, and lying Dick Talbot, the Earl of Tyrconnel, James's
most obsequious tool, was his Lord-Lieutenant, and bent on carrying out
his plans to the fullest extent. There arose a terrible panic amongst
the Protestants that a general massacre was contemplated, and the
Englishry began to collect whatever of value they could carry with
them, and escape across the Channel into England or Wales. Tyrconnel
sent for the leading Protestants to Dublin, and protested with many
oaths that the whole rumour was a malicious and groundless lie. Nobody,
however, put any faith in his assurances, and the exodus rapidly
increased, whilst such Protestants as possessed any means of defence
in towns, armed themselves, threw up fortifications, and determined
to sell their lives dear. Such was the case at Kenmare, in Kerry; at
Bandon, Mallow, Sligo, Charleville, Enniskillen, and Londonderry.

Such was the state of Ireland at the time of the landing of William at
Torbay. Tyrconnel despatched a body of Popish infantry in December,
1688, to take possession of Enniskillen. The inhabitants summoned
the Protestants of the surrounding country to their aid, rushed
out on the soldiers as they approached the gates of the town, and
defeated them. They then appointed Gustavus Hamilton, a captain in the
army, their governor, and determined to hold their own against the
lieutenant-governor. Londonderry likewise shut its gates in the face
of the Earl of Antrim, who armed a Popish regiment to garrison their
town. This exploit was the work of thirteen apprentices, whose bold and
decisive deed was quickly imitated by the rest of the inhabitants. The
town was put into a posture of thorough defence, the country round was
alarmed, the Protestant gentry flocked in with armed followers, horse
and foot, and Antrim thought it prudent to retire to Coleraine.

At another time Tyrconnel would have taken a bloody vengeance on the
courageous Protestants of Ulster, but matters in England appeared too
critical to permit him such indulgence. He had recourse, therefore,
to artifice. He despatched Lord Mountjoy, the Master of the Ordnance,
with his regiment, which included many Protestants, to Londonderry.
Mountjoy was a Protestant himself, though an adherent of King James;
had much property in Ulster, and was highly respected there. The
citizens of Londonderry willingly admitted him within their walls,
and suffered him to leave a garrison there, consisting solely of
Protestant soldiers, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Lundy as
governor. To the people of Enniskillen Mountjoy was less courteous;
he somewhat curtly treated a deputation thence, and advised them to
submit unconditionally to James. Tyrconnel even affected to enter into
negotiation with William, and General Richard Hamilton was not very
wisely despatched by William to Ireland to treat with him. Hamilton had
been in command under Tyrconnel till a recent period, and had been sent
by him with reinforcements to James in England. There, finding James
had fled, he coolly went over to William, and, strangely enough, was
deemed sufficiently trustworthy to be returned to his old master as
negotiator. He no sooner arrived than he once more declared for King
James. Tyrconnel, however, did not himself so soon throw off the mask
of duplicity. He protested to the Prince of Orange that he was quite
disposed to treat for the surrender of Ireland, and to the alarmed
Catholics of Ireland--who got some wind of his proceedings--that he
had not the most distant idea of submitting. On the other hand, he
prevailed on Lord Mountjoy, who had so well served him at Londonderry,
to go on a mission to James at St. Germains, professedly to procure
a concession from James that his Irish subjects should submit to
William for the present, and not rush into a contest to which they were
unequal, but wait for better times. The real truth was, that James
had already despatched Captain Rush from St. Germains to Tyrconnel to
assure him that he was coming himself with all haste with a powerful
fleet and army. Tyrconnel was, therefore, desirous to get Mountjoy
secured, as he was capable of uniting the Protestants and heading them
against the bloody butchery that James and Tyrconnel destined for
them. Mountjoy somewhat reluctantly fell into the snare. He proceeded
to France, accompanied by Chief Baron Rice, a fanatical Papist, who
had boasted that he would drive a coach and six through the Act of
Settlement. Rice had secret instructions to denounce Mountjoy as a
traitor, and to recommend James to make him fast. No sooner, therefore,
did he present himself at St. Germains than he was clapped into the
Bastille.

This act of diabolical treachery being completed, Tyrconnel now
abandoned further disguise, and prepared to hand over the whole
Protestant population of Ireland to the exterminating fury of the
Catholic natives. "Now or never! now and for ever!" was the watchword
of blood and death to all the Englishry. It was embroidered on the
viceregal banner, and floated over the castle of Dublin. The Catholics
were called on to arm and secure Ireland for the Irish. The call was
obeyed with the avidity of savages. Those who had not arms manufactured
them out of scythes, forks, and other rural implements. Every smithy
was aglow, every hammer resounding in preparation of pike and
skean, the Irish long knife. By February, 1689, the army of Ireland
was swelled with regulars and irregulars to a hundred thousand men.
There was one universal shout of Bacchanalian acclaim, and rush to
secure the plunder of the Protestants. The houses of the wealthy were
ransacked, the cattle driven off, the buildings, and even the heaths
set fire to. The wild marauders roasted the slaughtered cattle and
sheep at huge fires often made of timbers of the buildings, emptied
the cellars, and sang songs of triumph over the heretic Englishry, and
of Ireland restored to its legitimate owners. What an Ireland it was
likely to become under them was soon evident. They were not content to
kill enough to satisfy their hunger; these children of oppression and
ignorance, like wolves, destroyed for the mere pleasure of destroying;
and D'Avaux, the French ambassador, who accompanied James over the
country from Kinsale to Dublin, describes it as one black, wasted
desert, for scores of miles without a single inhabitant, and calculates
that in six weeks these infuriate savages had slaughtered fifty
thousand cattle and three or four hundred thousand sheep.

Before such an inundation of fury and murder, the few Protestant
inhabitants were swept away like chaff before the wind. All the
fortified towns and houses in the south were forced by the ruthless mob
and soldiery, or were abandoned, and the people fled for their lives to
seek an asylum in Ulster. Those of Kenmare managed to get across in a
small vessel to Bristol.

In all this fearful scene of devastation Hamilton, who had come over
as the emissary of William, was one of the most active and unpitying
agents. Enniskillen and Londonderry were the only Protestant places
which now held out, and Hamilton commenced his march northward to
reduce them. This march was only another wild blast of desolation,
like that which had swept the south, and left the country a howling
wilderness. In addition to Hamilton's regular troops, hosts of the
self-armed and merciless Irish collected on his track, and burnt,
plundered, and murdered without mercy. The people fled before the rout,
themselves burning their own dwellings, and laying waste with fire the
whole district, so that it should afford no shelter or sustenance to
the enemy. The whole of the Protestant population retreated northwards,
leaving even Lisburn and Antrim deserted. Thirty thousand fugitives
soon found themselves cooped up within the walls of Londonderry, and
many thousands were shut up in Enniskillen.

At this crisis James landed at Kinsale, and marched to Cork. He
had brought no army, but a number of officers to command the
Irish troops. His General-in-Chief was Count Rosen, a man of much
military experience. Next to him were Lieutenant-General Maumont,
Brigadier-General Pusignan, and four hundred other officers of
different ranks. He was accompanied by Count D'Avaux, who had been
ambassador in England, a man clever, shrewd, keenly observant, and with
little mercy or principle. His object was to secure Ireland rather
for Louis than for James, and he served his master with cunning and
zeal. James brought with him arms for ten thousand men, abundance of
ammunition, and a military chest of about a hundred and twenty thousand
pounds sterling. Before quitting St. Germains Louis XIV. himself had
paid James a parting visit, displayed towards him the most marked
friendship, embraced him at parting, and told him, in his epigrammatic
way, that the greatest good that he could desire for him was that they
might never meet again.

James landed on the 12th of March, and two days after was in Cork. The
Irish received him with enthusiastic acclamations as a saviour; but
the effects of his anticipated arrival, and the measures concerted
by himself and carried out by the brutal Tyrconnel, met him on the
instant. He was anxious to push on to Dublin; but the whole country
was a desert, and horses could not be procured in sufficient numbers
to convey his baggage, nor food to sustain them on the way. During the
detention consequent on this, Tyrconnel arrived to welcome His Majesty
to Ireland. On the 24th of March he entered Dublin amid the hurrahs
and the festive demonstrations of flowers, garlands of evergreens, of
tapestry and carpets hung from the windows, of processions of young
girls in white, and friars and priests with their crosses, and with
the host itself. At sight of that, James alighted, and, falling on
his knees in the mud, bared his head in humble devotion. The next
morning James proceeded to form his Privy Council. This was composed
of his natural son, the Duke of Berwick, the Duke of Powis; the Earls
of Abercorn, Melfort, Dover, Carlingford, and Clanricarde; the Lords
Thomas Howard, Kilmallock, Merrion, Kenmare; Lord Chief Justice
Herbert, the Bishop of Chester, General Sarsfield, Colonel Dorrington,
and, strangely enough, D'Avaux, who should have retained the
independent position of ambassador; the Marquis D'Abbeville, and two
other foreigners. The Protestant Bishop of Meath, at the head of his
clergy, appeared before him, imploring his protection, and permission
to lay before him the account of the injuries they and their flocks had
received. James affected to declare that he was just as much as ever
desirous to afford full liberty of conscience, and to protect all his
subjects in their rights and opinions; but he said it was impossible to
alter what had already taken place, and he gave an immediate proof of
the impartiality which Protestants were likely to receive at his hands
by dismissing Keating, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, the only
Protestant judge still remaining on the bench.

These measures dispatched, it became the question whether, in the
interval before the meeting of Parliament, James should continue in
Dublin, or should proceed to the army besieging Londonderry, and
encourage it by his presence. This called forth the conflicting views
and interests of his adherents, and his whole court became rent by
struggling factions. The English exiles warmly urged the king to
proceed to Ulster. They cared little for the fate of Ireland, their
views and wishes were fixed on England. In the north, as soon as
Londonderry was put down, it was easy for James to go across to
Scotland, there to commence the campaign for the recovery of the
English crown. But this was the very thing which his Irish partisans
dreaded. They felt certain that if James recovered the English throne,
they should be left to contend with the colonists of Ulster themselves;
and the victorious ascendency of that small but sturdy body of people
was too vividly burnt into their minds by ages of their domination.
They therefore counselled James to remain as a king at Dublin, and
leave his generals to put down the opposition in the north; and in
this they were zealously seconded by D'Avaux and the French. James on
the throne of England would be a very different person to James on the
throne of Ireland only. In the one case, if he succeeded, he might ere
long become independent of Louis; if he failed, the English Protestant
king would soon subdue Ireland to his sway. But if James continued
only monarch of Ireland, he must continue wholly dependent on Louis.
He could only maintain himself there by his aid in men and money, and
then Ireland would become gradually a French colony--a dependence most
flattering to the pride and power of France--a perpetual thorn in the
side of England.

The contention between the two parties was fierce, and Tyrconnel joined
with the French and Irish in advising James to remain at Dublin. On
the other hand, Melfort and the English pointed out to him the immense
advantage to his prospects to settle the last remains of disaffection
in the north, and to appear again in arms in his chief kingdom, where
they persuaded him that the Highlanders and all the Catholic and
Royalist English would now flock to his standard. William, they assured
him, was to the highest degree unpopular; a powerful party in Scotland
were opposed to him, and in the ascendant. These views prevailed.
James, attended by D'Avaux and the French officers, set out for Ulster.
The journey was again through a country blasted by the horrors of war
and robbery. There was no fodder for their horses, scarcely a roof to
shelter the heads of the travellers; and, after a long and terrible
journey, plunging and struggling through deep roads, and bogs where
there was no road at all, famished and worn out by fatigue, they
reached Charlemont on the 13th of April. When James at length arrived
before Londonderry, the fall of that place did not appear likely to
be quite so early an event as he had been led to believe. Rosen,
however, treated lightly the resistance which the inhabitants could
make. The walls of the town were old, the ditches could scarcely be
discerned, the gates and drawbridges were in disorder, and the town
was commanded at various points by heights from which artillery might
play upon it. What was still more favourable to James, it was well
known that Lundy, the governor, was a traitor. Rosen was placed in
the chief command, and Maumont next to him over the head of Hamilton.
Lundy meanwhile depressed the spirits of the people within by telling
them that it was useless to attempt to defend such a place, and kept
up a secret correspondence with the enemy without, informing them of
all that passed there, and of its weak points and condition. He did
more--he contrived to send away succours which arrived from England.
Colonel Cunningham appeared in the bay with a fleet having on board
two regiments for the defence of the place. Cunningham and his chief
officers went on shore and waited on the governor. Lundy called a
council, taking care to exclude all but his own creatures; and these
informed Cunningham that it was mere waste of men and money to land
them; the town was perfectly indefensible; and that, in fact, he was
going to surrender it. His supporters confirmed this view of the
case, and Cunningham and his officers withdrew, and soon after made
sail homeward, to the despair of the inhabitants; Lundy, as he saw
them depart, sending word into the enemy's camp that he was ready to
surrender.

But the spirit of the inhabitants was now roused. They openly declared
Lundy a traitor, and, if they could have found him, would have killed
him on the spot. He had, however, concealed himself, and at night was
enabled, by connivance of his friends, to escape over the walls in
disguise. As night approached, the people, to their astonishment, found
the gates set open, and the keys were not to be found. People said they
had seen the confederates of Lundy stealing out, and the alarm flew
through the place. The townsmen came together, and called all to arms
by beat of drum. A message was despatched to Cunningham to bring in his
forces; but he was already on the move, and declared that his orders
permitted him only to follow the commands of the governor.

Thus deserted, the inhabitants courageously resolved to depend on their
own energies. They placed Major Baker and Captain Murray at the head of
the armed citizens, who amounted to seven thousand, many of them Ulster
gentlemen of family, and endowed with all the dauntless spirit which
had made them so long masters of the north of Ireland. At this moment,
too, the Rev. George Walker, the Rector of Donaghmore, who had been
driven in along with the rest of the fugitives, displayed that spirit,
eloquence, and ability which inspired the whole place with a wonderful
enthusiasm, and which have made his name famous amongst the Protestant
patriots of Ireland. Walker was appointed joint governor with Major
Baker, and they set themselves to work to organise their armed people
into military bodies with their proper officers, to place cannon on
all the most effective points, and post sentinels on the walls and
at the gates. The forces of James were already drawn up before the
place, expecting the promised surrender of Lundy. Presently a trumpeter
appeared at the southern gate, and demanded the fulfilment of the
governor's engagement. He was answered that the governor had no longer
any command there. The next day, the 20th of April, James sent Lord
Strabane, a Catholic peer of Ireland, offering a free pardon for all
past offences on condition of an immediate surrender, and a bribe to
Captain Murray, who was sent to hold a parley with him, of a thousand
pounds and a colonelcy in the royal army. Murray repelled the offer
with contempt, and advised Strabane, if he valued his safety, to make
the best of his way out of gunshot.

At this unexpected answer, James displayed the same pusillanimity which
marked his conduct when he fled from England. Instead of ordering the
place to be stormed, he lost heart, and, though he had been only eleven
days before the town, set off back to Dublin, taking Count Rosen with
him, and leaving Maumont in command, with Hamilton and Pusignan under
him. Then the siege was pushed on with spirit. The batteries were
opened on the town, to which the townsmen replied vigorously; and, on
the 21st of April, made a desperate sally under Captain Murray, killed
General Maumont and two hundred of the Irish, and, under cover of a
strong fire kept up by a party headed by Walker, regained the town. The
siege under Hamilton, who succeeded to the command, then languished. On
the 4th of May the townspeople made another sally, and killed Pusignan.
After this sallies became frequent, the bold men of Londonderry carried
off several officers prisoners into the town, and two flags of the
French, which they hung up in the cathedral. It was at length resolved
by the besiegers to carry the place by storm, but they were repelled
with great loss, the very women joining in the _mêlée_, and carrying
ammunition and refreshments to the defenders on the walls. As the
storming of the town was found to be impracticable, Hamilton commenced
a blockade. The troops were drawn round the place, and a strong boom
thrown across the river, and the besiegers awaited the progress of
famine.

All this time the people of Enniskillen had been making a noble
diversion. They had marched out into the surrounding country, levied
contributions of provisions from the native Irish, and given battle to
and defeated several considerable bodies of troops sent against them.
They took and sacked Belturbet, and carried off a great quantity of
provisions; they made skirmishing parties, and scoured the country in
the rear of the army besieging Londonderry, cutting off straggling
foragers, and impeding supplies. The news of the continued siege of
Londonderry, and the heroic conduct of the people of both these places,
raised a wonderful enthusiasm in England on their behalf. Lundy, who
had reached London, and Cunningham, who had brought back his regiments,
were arrested, and Lundy was thrown into the Tower and Cunningham
into the Gatehouse. Kirke was also dispatched with a body of troops
from Liverpool to relieve the besieged in Londonderry. On the 15th
of June his squadron was discerned approaching, and wonderful was the
exultation when it was ascertained that Kirke had arrived with troops,
arms, ammunition, and supplies of food.

It was high time that relief should have come, for they were reduced to
the most direful extremities, and were out of cannon-ball, and nearly
out of powder. But they were doomed to a horrible disappointment.
Kirke, who could be bold enough in perpetrating barbarities on
defenceless people, was too faint-hearted to attempt forcing the boom
in the river, and relieving the place. He drew off his fleet to the
entrance of Lough Foyle, and lay there in tantalising inactivity. His
presence, instead of benefiting them, brought fresh horrors upon them;
for no sooner did James in Dublin learn that there was a chance of
Kirke's throwing in fresh forces and provisions, than he dispatched
Rosen to resume the command, with orders to take the place at all costs.

This Rosen, who was a Russian, from Livonia, was a brutal savage, and
vowed that he would take the place, or roast the inhabitants alive. He
first began by endeavouring to undermine the walls; but the besieged
so briskly attacked the sappers, that they soon killed a hundred of
them, and compelled them to retire. Filled with fury, Rosen swore that
he would raze the walls to the ground, and massacre every creature in
the town,--men, women, and children. He flung a shell into the place,
to which was attached a threat that, if they did not at once surrender,
he would collect from the whole country round all the people, their
friends and relatives, the women, the children, the aged, drive them
under the walls, and keep them there till they perished. He knew that
the besieged could give them no support, for they were perishing fast
themselves from famine, and its attendant fevers and diseases. The
fighting men were so weak that they often fell down in endeavouring to
strike a blow at the enemy. They were living on dogs, rats, any vile
thing they could seize. They had eaten up all the horses to three,
which were mere skin and bone. They had salted the hides and chewed
them to keep down their ravening hunger. There were some amongst them
who began to talk of eating the bodies of those who fell in the action.
Numbers perished daily in their houses of exhaustion, and the stench
arising from the unburied dead was terrible and pestilential. Many of
their best men had died from fever, amongst them Major Baker, their
military governor, and Colonel Mitchelbourne had been elected in his
place. They were reduced to fire brickbats instead of cannon-balls; and
their walls were so battered, that it was not they but their own spirit
which kept out the enemy. Yet, amid these horrors, they treated the
menace with silent contempt, and sent out an order that any one even
uttering the word "Surrender," should be instantly put to death.

The savage Rosen put his menace into force. He drove the wretched
people from the country, at the point of the pike, under the walls.
On the 2nd of July this melancholy crowd of many hundreds was seen
by the besieged from the walls, hemmed in between the town and the
army--old men incapable of bearing arms, miserable women, and lamenting
children, where, without food or shelter, they were cooped up between
their enemies and their friends, who could not help them. Many of
these unhappy people had protections under James's own hand, but Rosen
cared not for that. For two days and nights this woful throng of human
beings was kept there, in spite of the strong remonstrances of Hamilton
and other English officers, who were not accustomed to such devilish
modes of war. The indignant men in Londonderry erected gallows on the
walls, and sent Rosen word that, unless he let the perishing people go,
they would hang up the principal of their prisoners. But it was not
till many of the victims had died, and a storm of indignation at this
unheard-of barbarity assailed him in his own camp, that Rosen opened
his ranks and allowed the poor wretches to depart.

James, who was himself by no means of the melting mood, was shocked
when he heard of this diabolical barbarity, and the comments upon it
amongst those around him. He recalled Rosen and restored the command
to Hamilton. Then the siege again went on with redoubled fury, and all
the last expiring strength of the besieged was required to sustain it.
Hamilton also terrified them by continual _ruses_ and false rumours.
He ordered his soldiers to raise a loud shout, and the besieged to
be informed that Enniskillen had fallen, and that now there was no
hope whatever for them. The besieged were so depressed by this news,
for they had no means of testing it, that they offered to capitulate,
but could obtain no terms that they could accept. And all this time
the imbecile or base Kirke was lying within a few miles of them with
abundance of provisions, and a force capable with ease of forcing its
way to them. He had even the cruelty to send in a secret message to
Walker that he was coming in full force, and then to lie still again
for more than a fortnight. At length, however, he received a peremptory
order from William to force the boom and relieve the town. No sooner
did this order reach him than he showed with what ease he could have
accomplished this at first, six weeks ago. The boom was burst asunder
by two vessels--the _Mountjoy_ and _Phœnix_--dashing themselves
against it, while they were covered by a third, the _Dartmouth_, and
the place was open (July 30) to the conveyance of the troops and the
provisions. Kirke was invited to take the command, and the Irish
camp, despairing of any success, drew off on the 1st of August, and
raised this most memorable siege, in which four out of the seven
thousand defenders perished, besides a multitude of other inhabitants,
amounting, according to some calculations, to eight or nine thousand
souls. On the side of the Irish as many are said to have fallen; and
of the thirty-six French gunners who directed the cannonade, all had
been killed but five. Besides the miseries endured in the town, those
of the poor people who survived being driven under the walls found, on
their return to what had been their homes, that they were their homes
no longer. Their villages, crops, ricks, buildings, all had been burnt
down, and the whole country laid waste.

[Illustration: THE "MOUNTJOY" AND "PHŒNIX" BREAKING THE BOOM AT
LONDONDERRY. (_See p._ 416.)]

The Enniskilleners had meanwhile been actively engaged against other
detachments of James's army, but had bravely beaten them off, and on
the same day that Londonderry was relieved had won a signal victory
over them at Newton Butler, attacking five thousand Irish under General
Macarthy, though they themselves numbered only about three hundred,
and killing, it is said, two thousand, and driving five hundred more
into Lough Erne, where they were drowned. This decisive defeat of the
Irish hastened the retreat of the army retiring from Londonderry.
They fled towards Dublin in haste and terror, leaving behind their
baggage. Sarsfield abandoned Sligo, and James was on the very point
of abandoning Dublin in the midst of the panic that seized it. At
the same time came from Scotland the news of the death of Dundee at
Killiecrankie; and on the 13th of August Marshal Schomberg landed at
Carrickfergus with an army of sixteen thousand, composed of English,
Scots, Dutch, Danes, and French Huguenots. Matters were fast assuming
a serious aspect for James; his affairs not only in the field, but his
civil government, falling every day into a more ominous condition.

[Illustration: LANDING OF MARSHAL SCHOMBERG AT CARRICKFERGUS. (_See p._
416.)]

One reason for James quitting the siege of Londonderry in person was
that the time for the assembling of his Irish Parliament drew near.
No sooner did he reach Dublin than he was met by the news that the
English fleet under Admiral Herbert had been beaten by the French at
Bantry Bay. Herbert had been ordered to intercept the French fleet
between Brest and Ireland; but he had missed it, and James had safely
landed. Whilst he was still beating about, a second squadron, under
Chateau Renard, had also made its way over, and anchored with the first
in Bantry Bay. On Herbert discovering them there, confident in their
superior numbers, they came out, and there was a sharp fight. In the
evening Herbert sheered off towards the Scilly Isles, and the French
with great exultation, as in a victory, returned into the bay. James
found the French at Dublin in high spirits at the unusual circumstance
of beating English sailors; but his English adherents were by no means
pleased with this triumphing over their countrymen, hostile though they
were; and James, who had always prided himself on the English navy, is
said, when D'Avaux boasted how the French had beaten the English, to
have replied gloomily, "It is the first time." Even the English exiles
in France showed a similar mortification, though the French victory,
such as it was, was in their cause. Both sides, however, claimed the
victory. In England Parliament voted thanks to Herbert; in Dublin James
ordered bonfires and a _Te Deum_.

On the 7th of May, the day after the _Te Deum_, James met his
Parliament. What sort of a Parliament it was, and what it was likely to
do in Ireland may be surmised from the fact that there were only six
Protestants in the whole House of Commons, consisting of two hundred
and fifty members. Only fourteen lords appeared to his summons, and of
these only four were Protestants. By new creations, and by reversal
of attainders against Catholic peers, he managed to add seventeen
more members to the Upper House, all Catholics, so that in the whole
Parliament there were only ten Protestants, and four of these were the
Bishops of Meath, Ossory, Cork, and Limerick. The majority of these
members were not only Catholic, eager to visit upon the Protestants all
the miseries and spoliations which the latter had inflicted on them,
but they were men totally unaccustomed to the business of legislation
or government, from having been long excluded from such functions,
and condemned to pass their time on their estates in that half savage
condition which qualified them rather for bandits than for lawgivers
and magistrates.

James's first act was that of complete toleration of liberty of
conscience to all Christian denominations. This sounded well, and was
in perfect keeping with his declarations and endeavours in England
for which he had been driven out, and England had now an opportunity
of observing with what justice; of judging whether or not his real
object had been wrongfully suspected. In his speech from the throne, he
reverted with great pride to these endeavours, and to his determination
still to be the liberator of conscience. This was language worthy of
the noblest lawgiver that ever existed; but, unfortunately, James's
English subjects never could be persuaded of his sincerity, and did
not believe that this happiness would arrive as the result of his
indulgence. The very next Act which he now passed decided that they
had not mistrusted him without cause. Scarcely had he passed the Act
of Toleration, when he followed it up by the repeal of the Act of
Settlement, by which the Protestants held their estates, and their
rights and liberties in Ireland. This just and tolerant monarch thus,
at one stroke, handed over the whole Protestant body to the mercy of
the Irish Catholics, and to one universal doom of confiscation. The
Bill was received with exultation by this Parliament, which portended
all the horrors which were to follow.

But there were other parties whose estates were not derived from the
Act of Settlement, but from purchase, and another Act was passed to
include them. It was a Bill confiscating the property of all who had
aided or abetted the Prince of Orange in his attempt on the Crown, or
who were absent and did not return to their homes before the 5th of
October. The number of persons included in this great Act of Attainder,
as it was called, amounted to between two and three thousand, including
men of all ranks from the highest noble to the simplest freeholder. All
the property of absentees above seventeen years of age was transferred
to the king. The most unbounded lust of robbery and revenge was thus
kindled in the public mind. Every one who wanted his neighbour's
property, or had a grudge against him, hurried to give in his name to
the Clerk of the House of Commons, and, without any or much inquiry, it
was inserted in the Bill.

To make the separation of England and Ireland complete, and to set up
the most effectual barrier against his own authority, should he again
regain the throne of England, James permitted his Parliament to pass an
Act declaring that the Parliament of England had no power or authority
over Ireland, and this contrary to the provisions of Poynings' Act,
which gave the initiative power to the English Council, and made every
Irish Act invalid unless first submitted to the King and Council of
England.

Having transferred the property of the laity back to the Irish,
another Act made as sweeping a conveyance of that of the Church from
the Protestant to the Catholic clergy. Little regard had been had to
Catholic rights in piling property on the Protestant hierarchy, and
as little was shown in taking it back again. The Anglican clergy were
left in a condition of utter destitution, and more than this, they were
not safe if they appeared in public. They were hooted, pelted, and
sometimes fired at. All colleges and schools from which the Protestants
had excluded the Catholics were now seized and employed as Popish
seminaries or monasteries. The College of Dublin was turned into a
barrack and a prison. No Protestants were allowed to appear together in
numbers more than three, on pain of death. This was James's notion of
the liberty of conscience, and a tender regard for "every man's rights
and liberties." It was a fine lesson, too, for the clergy and gentry
who had welcomed him to Ireland as the friends of passive obedience.
They had now enough of that doctrine, and went over pretty rapidly to a
different notion. The Protestants everywhere were overrun by soldiers
and rapparees. Their estates were seized, their houses plundered, their
persons insulted and abused, and a more fearful condition of things
never existed in any country at any time. The officers of the army sold
the Protestants protections, which were no longer regarded when fresh
marauders wanted more money.

This model Parliament voted twenty thousand pounds a year to Tyrconnel
for bringing this state of things about, and twenty thousand pounds
a month to the king. But the country was so completely desolated,
and its trade so completely destroyed by this reign of terror and of
licence, that James did not find the taxes come in very copiously; and
he resorted to a means of making money plentiful worthy of himself. He
collected all the old pots, pans, brass knockers, old cannon, and metal
in almost any shape, and coined clumsy money out of them, on which he
put about a hundred times their intrinsic value. The consequence was
that shopkeepers refused to receive this base coin. All men to whom
debts were due, or who had mortgages on other men's property, were
opposed to having them discharged by a heap of metal which in a few
weeks might be worth only a few pence a pound. Those who refused such
payment were arrested, and menaced with being hanged at their own
doors. Many were thrown into prison, and trade and intercourse were
plunged into a condition of the wildest anarchy. The whole country was
a scene of violence, confusion, and distress. Such was the state of
Ireland and of James's Court when, as we have seen, Schomberg landed
with his army at Carrickfergus on the 23rd of August, and roused James,
his Court, and the whole country to a sense of their danger, and of
the necessity for one great and universal effort. A spirit of new life
seemed to animate them, and James, receiving fresh hope from the sight,
marched from Dublin at the head of his troops to encounter Schomberg.

During the summer the Court of William had not been an enviable place.
In the spring the Parliament had proceeded to reverse the judgments
which had been passed in the last reign against Lord William Russell,
Algernon Sidney, the Earl of Devonshire, Cornish, Alice Lisle, and
Samuel Johnson. Some of the Whigs who had suffered obtained pecuniary
compensation, but Johnson obtained none. He was deemed by the Whigs
to be too violent--in fact, he was a Radical of that day. The
scoundrel Titus Oates crawled again from his obscurity, and, by help
of his old friends the Whigs, managed to obtain a pension of three
hundred pounds a year. This done, there was an attempt to convert the
Declaration of Rights into a Bill of Rights--thus giving it all the
authority of Parliamentary law; and in this Bill it was proposed, in
case of William, Mary, and Anne all dying without issue, to settle
the succession on the Duchess Sophia of Brunswick Lüneburg, the
daughter of the Queen of Bohemia, and granddaughter of James I.; but
it failed for the time. A Bill of Indemnity was also brought in as an
Act of oblivion of all past offences; but this too was rejected. The
triumphant Whigs, so far from being willing to forgive the Tories who
had supported James, and had been their successful opponents during
the attempts through Titus Oates and his fellow-plotters to exclude
James from the succession, were now clamorous for their blood and
ruin. William refused to comply with their truculent desires, and
became, in consequence, the object of their undisguised hatred. They
particularly directed their combined efforts against Danby, now Earl
of Caermarthen, and Halifax. They demanded that Caermarthen should be
dismissed from the office of President of the Council, and Halifax from
holding the Privy Seal, and being Speaker of the House of Lords. But
William steadfastly resisted their demands, and declared that he had
done enough for them and their friends, and would do no more especially
in the direction of vengeance against such as were disposed to live
quietly and serve the State faithfully.

On the 19th of October the second session of William's first Parliament
met. The Commons were liberal in voting supplies; they granted at once
two million pounds, and declared that they would support the king to
the utmost of their ability in reducing Ireland to his authority,
and in prosecuting the war with France. The required sum was to be
levied partly by a poll-tax, partly by new duties on tea, coffee, and
chocolate, partly by an assessment of one hundred thousand pounds on
the Jews, but chiefly by a tax on real property. The Jews, however,
protested that they would sooner quit the kingdom than submit to the
imposition, and that source was abandoned. The Commons next took up
the Bill of Rights, and passed it, omitting the clause respecting the
succession of the House of Brunswick, which measure was not brought
forward again for eleven years. They, however, took care, at the
suggestion of Burnet to insert a clause that no person who should marry
a Papist should be capable of ascending the throne; and if any one
on the throne so married, the subjects should be absolved from their
allegiance.

[Illustration: FIVE-GUINEA PIECE OF WILLIAM AND MARY.]

[Illustration: CROWN OF WILLIAM AND MARY.]

[Illustration: FOURPENNY PIECE OF WILLIAM AND MARY.]

After thus demonstrating their zeal for maintaining the throne in
affluence and power, the Commons next proceeded to display it in a
careful scrutiny of the mode in which the last supplies had been spent.
The conduct of both army and navy had not been such as to satisfy the
public. The Commons had, indeed, not only excused the defeat of Herbert
at Bantry Bay, but even thanked him for it as though it had been a
victory. But neither had Schomberg effected anything in Ireland; and
he loudly complained that it was impossible to fight with an army that
was not supplied with the necessary food, clothing, or ammunition. This
led to a searching scrutiny into the commissariat department, William
himself being the foremost in the inquiry, and the most frightful
peculation and abuses were brought to light. The muskets and other arms
fell to pieces in the soldiers' hands; and, when fever and pestilence
were decimating the camp there was not a drug to be found, though
one thousand seven hundred pounds had been charged Government for
medicines. What baggage and supplies there were could not be got to the
army for want of horses to draw the waggons; and the very cavalry went
afoot, because Shales, the Commissary-General, had let out the horses
destined for this service to the farmers of Cheshire to do their work.
The meat for the men stank, the brandy was so foully adulterated that
it produced sickness and severe pains. In the navy the case was the
same; and Herbert, now Lord Torrington, was severely blamed for not
being personally at the fleet to see into the condition of his sailors,
but was screened from deserved punishment by his connections. The
king was empowered by Parliament at length to appoint a Commission of
Inquiry to discover the whole extent of the evil, and to take remedies
against its recurrence.

Then the Commons reverted again to their fierce party warfare. Whigs
and Tories manifested an equal desire to crush their opponents if they
had the power, and they kept William in a constant state of uneasiness
by their mutual ferocity, and their alternate eagerness to force him
into persecution and blood. Edmund Ludlow, one of the regicides, who
had managed to escape the murderous vengeance of Charles and James,
but whose companion, John Lisle, had fallen by the hands of Charles's
assassins at Lausanne, had been persuaded that he might now return to
England unmolested. But he soon found that he was mistaken. The Tories
vehemently demanded his arrest of the king, and William was obliged to
promise compliance; but he appeared in no haste in issuing the warrant;
and probably a hint was given to Ludlow, for he escaped again to the
Continent, and there remained till his death.

[Illustration: HALFPENNY OF WILLIAM AND MARY.]

On the other hand, the Whigs were as unrelaxing in their desire of
persecuting the Tories. They refused to proceed with the Indemnity
Bill, which William was anxious to get passed as a final preventive
of their deadly intentions. They arrested and sent to the Tower the
Earls of Peterborough and Salisbury for going over from their party
to that of James in the last reign, in order to impeach them of high
treason. The same was done to Sir Edward Hales and Obadiah Walker. They
appointed a committee to inquire into the share of various individuals
in the deaths of Lord William Russell, Sidney, and others of the Whig
party. The committee was termed "the Committee of Murder," and they
summoned such of the judges, law officers of the Crown, and others as
had taken part in these prosecutions. Sir Dudley North and Halifax were
called before them, and underwent a severe examination; but they did
not succeed in establishing a charge sufficient to commit them upon.
Halifax had already resigned the Speakership of the House of Lords, and
they sought to bring William to deprive him of the Privy Seal. In these
proceedings of the Commons, John Hampden, the grandson of the great
patriot, and John Howe, were the most violent. Hampden went the length
of saying that William ought to dismiss every man who had gone over to
him from the late king, and ought not to employ any one who entertained
Republican principles. This declaration, from a man who had himself
been a full-length Republican and the friend of Sidney, threw the House
into a roar of laughter; but that did not abash Hampden. On behalf of a
committee of the Commons, he drew up an address so violent that it was
altogether dropped, calling on the king to dismiss the authors of the
late malversations and the consequent failures of the army and navy.

The Whigs next brought in a Bill to restore to the corporations
their charters, which had been taken away by Charles II.; but, not
content with the legitimate fact of the restoration of these ancient
rights, they again seized on this as an opportunity for inflicting
a blow on the Tories. They introduced at the instigation of William
Sacheverell, a clause disqualifying for seven years every mayor,
recorder, common councilman, or other officer who had been in any way
a party to the surrender of these charters. They added a penalty of
five hundred pounds and perpetual disqualification for every person
who, in violation of this clause, should presume to hold office in any
corporation. They declared that if the Lords should hesitate to pass
this Bill, they would withhold the supplies till it was acquiesced in.

But William did not hesitate to express his displeasure with the Bill,
and with the indecent hurry with which it was pushed forward. A short
delay was interposed, and meanwhile the news of the intended passing
of the Bill was carried into every quarter of the kingdom, and the
Tories, Peers and Commons, who had gone down to their estates for
Christmas, hastened up to town to oppose it. The battle was furious.
The Whigs flattered themselves that, if they carried this Bill, the
returns to the next Parliament would be such that they should be able
to exclude their opponents from all power and place. After a fierce and
prolonged debate, the Bill was thrown out, and the Tories, elated by
their victory, again brought forward the Indemnity Bill; but this time
they were defeated in turn, and the Whigs immediately proceeded with
their design of converting this Bill into one of pains and penalties;
and to show that they were in earnest, they summoned Sir Robert Sawyer
before the House for his part in the prosecution of the Whigs in the
last reign. He had been Attorney-General, and conducted some of the
worst cases which were decided under Jeffreys and his unprincipled
colleagues, with a spirit which had made him peculiarly odious. The
case of Sir Thomas Armstrong was in particular brought forward--a very
flagrant one. Sir Thomas had been charged with being engaged in the
Rye House plot. He had escaped to the Netherlands, but the authorities
having been bribed to give him up, he was brought back, and hanged,
without a hearing, as an outlaw. It was a barbarous case, and deserved
the severest condemnation. But it was pleaded, on the other hand,
that Sawyer had rendered great services to the Whig cause; that he
had stoutly resisted the attempts of James to introduce Popery and
despotism; that he had resigned his office rather than advocate the
Dispensing Power, and had undertaken the defence of the seven bishops.
No matter; he was excepted from indemnity and expelled the House. A
committee of the whole House proceeded to make out a complete list of
all the offenders to be excluded from the benefit of the Bill.

This brought William to a resolve which, if carried into effect, would
have given a death-blow to the Whig party, and have neutralised the
glory of their accomplishment of the Revolution. He sent for his chief
ministers, and announced to them his determination to relinquish the
fruitless task of endeavouring to govern a country thus torn to pieces
by faction; that he was weary of the whole concern, and would return
to Holland, never more to meddle with English affairs, but abandon
them to the queen; that for ten months he had been vainly endeavouring
to make peace between the factions of Whig and Tory, and to prevent
them from rushing at each other's throats; that they clearly regarded
nothing but their mutual animosities, for in their indulgence they
utterly neglected the urgent affairs of the nation. Their enemy was in
Ireland, yet it had no effect in bringing them to their senses. Still
worse, every department of the Government was overrun with corruption,
peculation, and neglect. The public service was paralysed; the public
peace was entirely destroyed; and as for himself, with far from robust
health and with the duty of settling the Government upon him, it was
useless further to contend; he could contend no longer. A squadron was
ready to bear him away, and he could only hope that they would show
more regard to the wishes of the queen than they had to his.

Whether William was in earnest, or whether he only had recourse to a
ruse to bring the combatants to their senses, the result was the same.
The ministers stood confounded. To drive the king from the country by
their quarrels, and that at a time when the old and implacable enemy
of Protestantism and liberty was at their doors, would be a blow
to freedom and to their own credit from which the most disastrous
consequences must flow. They entreated him on their knees and with
tears to forego this design, promising all that he could desire.
William at length consented to make one more trial; but it was only on
condition that the Bill of Indemnity should pass, and that he should
himself proceed to Ireland, and endeavour, by his own personal and
determined effort, to drive James thence.

Accordingly, on January 27, 1690, he called together the two Houses,
and, announcing his intention to proceed to Ireland, declared the
Parliament dissolved, amid the utmost signs of consternation in the
Whigs, and shouts of exultation from the Tories. This act of William's
to defeat the malice of the Whigs, and his continued firm resistance
to their endeavours to fine and disqualify the Tories, had a wonderful
effect on that party. A numerous body of them deputed Sir John Lowther
to carry their thanks to the king, and assure him that they would
serve him with all their hearts and influence. Numbers of them who had
hitherto stood aloof began to appear at Court, and attended the levee
to kiss the king's hand. William gave orders to liberate those whom the
Whigs had sent to prison on charges of treason.

On the 1st of February the hour arrived in which all ecclesiastics who
had neglected to take the Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy would be
deposed. A considerable number of them came in in time; but Sancroft,
the Primate, and five of his bishops, stood out, and were deprived of
their bishoprics, but were treated with particular lenity.

It was soon found that the conduct of the Whigs had alienated a great
mass of the people. Their endeavours, by Sacheverell's clause, to
disqualify all who had consented to the surrender of the corporation
charters, had made mortal enemies of those persons, many of whom were
at the moment the leading members of the corporations, and therefore
possessing the highest influence on the return of members to the new
Parliament. The same was the case in the country, amongst those who
had been sheriffs or other officers at that period. The consequence
was that the Tories returned a decided majority to the new House, and
amongst them came up Sir Robert Sawyer from Cambridge, whilst the
violence of Hampden had caused his exclusion.

The revival of the Tory influence introduced great changes in the
ministry. Halifax resigned the Privy Seal. Mordaunt--now Earl of
Monmouth--Delamere, Sidney Godolphin, and Admiral Herbert--now Earl of
Torrington--were dismissed. Caermarthen was continued Lord President of
the Council, and Prime Minister. Sir John Lowther was appointed First
Lord of the Treasury, in place of Monmouth. Nottingham retained his
post as Secretary of State; and Thomas Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, was
placed at the head of the Admiralty, Torrington having, to his great
discontent, to yield that position, but retaining that of High Admiral,
and being satisfied by a splendid grant of ten thousand acres of Crown
land in the Peterborough fens. Delamere, too, was soothed on his
dismissal by being created Earl of Warrington. Richard Hampden became
Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Parliament met on the 20th of March, and the Commons, under the new
Tory influence, elected Sir John Trevor Speaker, who was besides made
First Commissioner of the Great Seal. In this man is said to have
commenced that system of Government corruption of Parliament--the
buying up, or buying off of members, which grew to such a height,
and attained its climax under Sir Robert Walpole. Trevor was an
unscrupulous Tory, and Burnet says he was "furnished with such sums
of money as might purchase some votes." He undertook, accordingly,
to manage the party in the House. The Whigs were in the worst of
humours, but they had now learnt that it was not wise to push matters
with the Crown too far, and as a body they watched their opportunity
for recovering by degrees their ascendency. Some of the more violent,
however, as the Earl of Shrewsbury and the notorious Ferguson, entered
into immediate correspondence with James.

William, in his opening speech, dwelt chiefly on the necessity of
settling the revenue, to enable him to proceed to Ireland, and on
passing the Bill of Indemnity; and he was very plain in expressing
his sense of the truculent spirit of party, which, in endeavouring to
wound one another, injured and embarrassed his Government still more.
He informed them that he had drawn up an Act of Grace, constituting the
Bill of Indemnity, and should send it to them for their acceptance;
for it is the practice for all such Acts to proceed from the Crown,
and then to be voted by the Peers, and finally by the Commons. He
then informed them that he left the administration during his absence
in Ireland in the hands of the Queen; and he desired that if any Act
was necessary for the confirmation of that authority, they should
pass it. The Commons at once passed a vote of thanks, and engaged to
support the Government of their Majesties by every means in their
power. On the 27th of March they passed unanimously the four following
resolutions--namely, that all the hereditary revenues of King James,
except the hearth-tax, were vested now in their present Majesties; that
a Bill should be brought in to declare and perpetuate this investment;
that the moiety of the excise granted to Charles and James should be
secured by Bill to their present Majesties for life; and finally, that
the customs which had been granted to Charles and James for their lives
should be granted for four years from the next Christmas. William
was much dissatisfied with the last proviso, and complained that the
Commons should show less confidence in him, who had restored their
liberties, than in Charles and James, who destroyed them. Sir John
Lowther pressed this point on the Commons strongly, but in vain; and
Burnet told King William that there was no disrespect meant towards
him, but that the Commons wished to establish this as a general
principle, protective of future subjects from the evils which the
ill-judged liberality of past Parliaments had produced.

The next measure on which the Whigs and Tories tried their strength
was a Bill brought in by the Whigs to do what was already sufficiently
done in the Bill of Rights--to pronounce William and Mary the rightful
and lawful sovereigns of this realm, and next to declare that all the
acts of the late Convention should be held as valid as laws. The first
part, already sufficiently recognised, was quietly passed over; but the
Tories made a stout opposition to extending the Act beyond the year
1689, on the plea that nothing could convert the self-constituted
Convention into a legal Parliament. But the distinction was a mere
party distinction; for, if the Convention was not a legal body, nothing
could render its acts so. The Earl of Nottingham, who headed this
movement, entered a strong protest on the journal of the Lords against
it, and this protest was signed by many peers, and amongst them the
Whig peers, Bolton, Macclesfield, Stamford, Bedford, Newport, Monmouth,
Herbert, Suffolk, Warrington, and Oxford. The Bill, however, was
carried, and with still more ease in the Commons.

The Tories, mortified at the triumph of the Whigs, now brought in a
Bill to change the military government of the City of London as the
lieutenancy of the counties had been changed. They thanked the king
for having by his measures brought in so many Churchmen and thrown out
so many Nonconformists. This Bill the Whigs managed to impede till the
session closed; but not so with another from the Tory party, ordering
payment of the five hundred pounds fines incurred by all who had taken
office or served as magistrates without taking the necessary Oaths of
Allegiance and Supremacy. This was carried, and the money ordered to be
paid into the Exchequer, and a separate account of it to be kept.

The defeat of the Whigs only infused more fierceness in the party
warfare. They hastened to bring in a Bill compelling every person in
office, civil, ecclesiastical, or military, to take an oath to abjure
King James and his right to the Crown, thence called the Abjuration
Oath. This oath might, moreover, be tendered by any magistrate to any
subject of their Majesties whatever, and whoever refused it was to be
committed to prison, and kept there till he complied. It was hoped by
the Whigs that this Bill would greatly embarrass the Tories who had
taken office under the present monarchy, and accordingly it met with
a decided opposition in the Commons, and was thrown out by a majority
of one hundred and ninety-two to one hundred and seventy-eight. It was
then, with some alteration, introduced as a fresh Bill into the Lords.
William went down to the Lords to listen personally to the debate;
and several of the peers made very free and pertinent remarks on the
uselessness of so many oaths to bind any disloyal or unconscientious
person.

The Bill was defeated in the Lords by being committed, but never
reported, for on the 20th of May, after King William had given his
consent to the Bill, which he had recommended, for conferring on the
queen full powers to administer the government during his absence in
Ireland, and also to that revising the _quo warranto_ judgment against
the City of London, the Marquis of Caermarthen appeared in the House
with an Act of Grace ready drawn and signed by the king.

[Illustration: HENRY VII.'S CHAPEL, WESTMINSTER ABBEY.]

William had tried in vain to curb the deadly animosities of the
contending parties by Bills of Indemnity. These could be discussed
and rejected, not so an Act of Grace: it issued from the sovereign,
and came already signed to Parliament. It must be at once accepted or
rejected by each House, and in such a case as the present, where it
was meant as a healing and pacifying act, it could not be rejected
without a disloyal and ungracious air. Accordingly it was received with
the deference which it deserved, and both Houses gave their sanction
to it, standing bareheaded, and without one dissenting voice. From
the benefit of this Act of Grace, pardoning all past offences, were,
it is true, excepted thirty names, prominent amongst whom were the
Marquis of Powis, the Lords Sunderland, Huntingdon, Dover, Melfort,
and Castlemaine; the Bishops of Durham and St. Davids; the Judges
Herbert, Jenner, Withers, and Holloway; Roger Lestrange; Lundy, the
traitor governor of Londonderry; Father Petre; and Judge Jeffreys. This
last monster of infamy was already deceased in the Tower, but it was
well understood that if the others named only kept themselves at peace
they would never be inquired after. Neither party, however, thanked
William for the constrained peace. The Whigs were disappointed of the
vengeance they burned to enjoy; the Tories, and even those who had the
most narrowly escaped the intended mischief, ungenerously said that if
William had really anything to avenge, he would not have pardoned it.

[Illustration: WILLIAM PENN.]

The day after the passing of this important Act he prorogued
Parliament. The Convocation which had been summoned, and met in Henry
VII.'s Chapel--St. Paul's, its usual meeting-place, having been burnt
down in the Great Fire, was not yet rebuilt--had been prorogued some
time before. Its great topic had been the scheme of comprehension,
which was warmly advocated by Burnet and the more liberal members, but
the High Church was as high and immovable as ever. Nothing could be
accomplished, and from this time the Nonconformists gave up all hope of
any reunion with the Church.

William now made preparations for the Irish campaign. It was time,
for Schomberg had effected little, and the English fleet had done
worse than nothing at sea. It was not only in Ireland that the danger
of William lay, or whence came his troubles. He had to maintain the
contest on the Continent against Louis XIV., against James in Ireland,
against corruption and imbecility in his fleet, against the most
wholesale mismanagement and peculation in every department of the
English Government, and against the feuds and disaffection of his own
courtiers and servants. Whilst the contests which we have just related
were agitating Parliament, William was vigorously at work inquiring
into the malversation all around him. Shales, the Commissary-General,
was dismissed, and a new spirit was introduced into the commissariat
under the vigilant eye of William himself. Instead of the vile poisons
and putrid meats, excellent provisions were supplied to the army.
The villainies by which the poor soldiers had been robbed of their
clothing, and bedding, and tents, terminated, and they were soon well
clothed, lodged, and equipped. The road to Chester swarmed with waggons
conveying wholesome supplies, and a fleet lay there ready to convey
the king over, with additional troops and stores. Before he set out
himself, the army in Ireland amounted to thirty thousand effective men.

But the affairs of the Channel fleet were in the worst possible
condition. William there committed the error of continuing Torrington,
better known as Admiral Herbert--who had been suspected of a leaning
towards James, and who had been already beaten at Bantry Bay--in the
chief command, when he removed him from his post of First Lord of the
Admiralty. Herbert was a debauched, effeminate fellow, indulging in all
sorts of license and luxury, whilst his sailors were suffering the most
atrocious treatment. They had such meat served out to them that neither
they nor even dogs could touch it. They were ill-fed, ill-clothed,
ill-paid; the contractors and the officers were enriching themselves
at their expense; and, what was worse, they were compelled to bear the
disgrace of having our commerce interrupted in all directions by the
French cruisers. Whilst they lay inactive in Portsmouth, the French
scoured the English coast, and captured trading vessels with their
cargoes to the value of six hundred thousand pounds.

William had, however, difficulties at home to surmount before he could
depart for Ireland. Just as he was prepared to set out, the discovery
was made of an extensive traitorous correspondence between a number
of concealed Jacobites and the Court of St. Germains. Some of his
own ministers and courtiers were deep in it. Two messengers had been
despatched from James's queen from St. Germains, with letters to the
conspiring Jacobites. One of these, of the name of Fuller, was induced
by some means to betray the secret. He went boldly to Whitehall,
and delivered his despatches to William. Crone, the other, was
arrested, and soon after another messenger of the name of Tempest. The
disclosures made through this means revealed an extensive ramification
of treason that was enough to appal the stoutest heart and coolest
brain. The queen's own relative, Clarendon, was one of the most zealous
plotters; Ailesbury and Dartmouth, who had both taken the oaths to
the new monarchs, were among the most guilty; and the latter, though
an admiral, was prepared, in connection with other officers, to betray
the coast defences, and to carry over their ships to the enemy. William
Penn was arrested on account of an intercepted letter to James, and
charged with treason; but he denied any treasonable intentions, and
said he only corresponded with James as an old friend. Nothing of a
criminal nature could be proved against him, and he was soon liberated.
Viscount Preston, who had been raised to that dignity by James, but
was not admitted by the peers to possess a valid patent of nobility,
was another; and what was far more mortifying, the Earl of Shrewsbury,
who had so recently resigned the seals as Secretary of State, was
discovered to be deeply implicated. It was found that the conspiracy
was spread far and wide throughout the country, and that the Jacobites
in Worcestershire, Lancashire, Yorkshire, and other northern counties,
were laying in arms and ammunition, and gentlemen who had received
commissions from James were actually mustering and drilling troops
on the solitary moorlands. The correspondence was as active between
England and Ireland, as between England and France.

Amid dangers of such magnitude it may seem strange that William
should venture to leave England, and burthen his wife with the cares
and responsibilities of such a crisis, amid the machinations of so
many determined enemies; but his affairs as imperiously demanded his
presence in Ireland, and he therefore took the best measures that he
could for the assistance and security of the queen. He appointed a
council of nine of the most efficient and trusty persons he could think
of, some Whigs, some Tories. They were Devonshire, Dorset, Monmouth,
Edward Russell, Caermarthen, Pembroke, Nottingham, Marlborough, and
Lowther. In making this selection William must have put aside many
personal prejudices. Marlborough was appointed as most likely to advise
the queen as to military affairs, though he was the known partisan and
adviser of Anne. Russell, who was an admiral and Treasurer of the Navy,
was the person to advise her in naval matters, and Caermarthen was,
from his experience, and as having a great regard for the queen, the
man on whom she could most rely for the management of the main business
of the State. William solemnly laid upon them the great trust which he
reposed in them, and called upon them as men and statesmen, to afford
the queen every assistance which her being left under such trying
circumstances demanded for her. He likewise informed Rochester that
he was well acquainted with the treasonable practices of his brother
Clarendon, and bade him warn him from him to tempt him no further to a
painful severity.

Having arranged this matter, William set out on the 4th of June for
Chester, where he embarked on the 11th, and landed at Carrickfergus
on the 14th. He proceeded immediately towards Belfast, and was met by
Schomberg on the way. William was attended by Prince George of Denmark,
the Duke of Ormond, the Earls of Oxford, Scarborough, and Manchester,
Mr. Boyle, and many other persons of distinction. He appointed the
whole of his army to rendezvous at Loughbrickland, and immediately set
about organising his plans, and preparing his stores for an active
campaign. Before we enter upon that, however, we must take a hasty
glance at what Schomberg had done during the autumn, winter, and spring.

This was little for so numerous an army, commanded by so experienced
a general. Schomberg was, it is true, eighty years of age, and many
complained that time had diminished his fire, and that much more
ought to have been effected. But William, who may be supposed a
most competent judge, cast no blame upon him; on the contrary, he
thanked him for having preserved his army at all, his troops having
had to contend with the horrors of a deficient and most villainous
commissariat, as we have already shown.

Schomberg on landing had taken Carrickfergus, Newry, and Dundalk, where
he entrenched himself. He had found the country through which he passed
a perfect waste. It could afford him no provisions, and, if he were
compelled to fall back, no shelter. James, on his landing, had advanced
from Dublin to Drogheda, where he was with twenty thousand men, besides
vast numbers of wild Irish, armed with scythes, pikes, and skeans. But
Schomberg found himself in no condition for fighting. His baggage could
not reach him for want of waggons, and from the state of the roads.
His arms were many of them good for nothing, being the vile rubbish
furnished by the contractors under the management of the fraudulent
Ministry and the infamous Commissary-General Shales. His soldiers were
suffering from want of proper clothing, shoes, beds, and tents. Worse
still, the soldiers were fast perishing with fever. Bad food, bad
clothing, bad lodging, and drenching and continual rains without proper
shelter, were fast doing their work on the English army. Schomberg did
his best. He stimulated his soldiers to make roofs to their huts of
turf and fern, and to make their beds of heather and fern, raised on
dry mounds above the soaking rains. But all was in vain. The soldiers
were become spiritless and demoralised. They were either too listless
to move or too excited by whisky, which they managed to get, to follow
his recommendations. Scenes like those which appeared in London during
the Plague now horrified his camp. The soldiers gave way to wild
license, drank, swore, sang bacchanalian songs, drank the Devil's
health, and made seats of the corpses of their dead comrades at their
revels, which they declared were the only ones they had to keep them
out of the wet.

The sickness appeared at the same time in the English fleet which lay
off the coast at Carrickfergus, and swept away almost every man from
some of the vessels. By the commencement of November, Schomberg's army
could not number more than five thousand effective men. The Irish
in James's army did not suffer so much, and they rejoiced in the
pestilence which was thus annihilating their heretic enemies. But the
weather at length compelled James to draw off, first to Ardee, and
then into winter quarters in different towns. Schomberg, thus set at
liberty, quickly followed his example, and quartered his troops for the
winter in the different towns of Ulster, fixing his headquarters at
Lisburn. His army had, however, lost above six thousand men by disease.

In February, 1690, the campaign was begun by the Duke of Berwick,
James's natural son, who attacked William's advanced post at Belturbet;
but he met with such a reception that he nearly lost his life, being
severely wounded and having his horse killed under him. In fact, the
condition of the two armies had been completely changed during the
winter by the different management of the two commanders. Schomberg
had been diligently exerting himself to restore the health and to
perfect the discipline of his troops. As spring advanced he received
the benefit of William's exertions and stern reforms in England. Good,
healthy food, good clothing, bedding, tents, and arms arrived. Fresh
troops were from time to time landing, amongst them regiments of German
and Scandinavian mercenaries. By the time of William's arrival the army
was in a fine and vigorous condition, and amounted to thirty thousand
men.

Not so the army of James: it had grown more and more disorderly. James
and his Court had returned to Dublin, where they spent the winter
in the grossest dissoluteness and neglect of all discipline or law.
Gambling, riot, and debauchery scandalised the sober Catholics, who had
hoped for a saviour in James. Of all the army, the cavalry alone had
been maintained by its officers in discipline. The foot soldiers roamed
over the country at pleasure, plundering their own compatriots. James's
own kitchen and larder were supplied by his foragers from the substance
of his subjects, without regard to law or any prospect of payment. It
was in vain that remonstrances were made; James paid no attention to
them. His bad money was gone; he had used up all the old pots, pans,
and cracked cannon, and applied to Louis for fresh remittances, which
did not arrive. To complete the ruin of his affairs, he requested the
withdrawal of Rosen and D'Avaux, who, heartless as they were, saw
the ruinous course things were taking, and remonstrated against it.
Lauzun, an incompetent commander, was sent over to take their place,
accompanied by about seven thousand French infantry. When Lauzun
arrived in Ireland, the desolation of the country, the rude savagery of
the people, and the disorders of the Court and capital, were such as to
strike him and his officers with astonishment and horror. He declared
in his letters to the French minister, Louvois, that the country was in
so frightful a state that no person who had lived in any other could
conceive it; that James's chief functionaries pulled each his different
way, instead of assisting the king; and that "such were the wants,
disunions, and dejection, that the king's affairs looked like the
primitive chaos."

Unfortunately, Lauzun was not the man to reduce chaos to order. He had
accompanied Mary, the queen of James, in her flight from London to
Paris, and had there too won the good graces of Madame Maintenon; and
by the influence of these ladies, who imagined him a great general,
he obtained this important command. He had to fill the place of both
D'Avaux and Rosen, of ambassador and general, without the sagacity and
skill which would have fitted him for either. He conceived the greatest
contempt and hatred of the Irish, and was not likely to work well with
them. Such was the condition in which James was found on the landing of
King William.

William, we have said, pushed on immediately to Belfast, and thence,
without permitting himself to be delayed by the congratulatory
multitudes that surrounded him, he hastened forward to his main army
at Loughbrickland. The soldiers of his army consisted of a variety of
nations, many of whom had won fame under great leaders. There were
Dutch, who had fought under William and his great generals against
those of Louis of France; Germans, Danes, Finlanders, French Huguenots,
now purged of their false countrymen; English and Scottish troops,
who had fought also in Holland, in Tangier, at Killiecrankie; and
Anglo-Irish, who had won such laurels at Londonderry, Enniskillen,
and Newton Butler. All were animated by the presence of the king, and
of his assembled generals of wide renown, and with the confidence of
putting down the Popish king, and his French supporters and Irish
adherents, who had robbed and expelled them and their families. The
Germans and Dutch burned to meet again the French invaders of their
country, the desolators of the Palatinate; and the French Protestants
were as much on fire to avenge themselves on their Catholic countrymen,
who had been their oppressors. It was not merely English troops
acting on ordinary grounds of hostility against Irish ones, but
representatives of almost all Protestant Europe collected to avenge the
wrongs of Protestants and of their own countries.

William was confident in his army, and declared that he was not come
to Ireland to let the grass grow under his feet. Schomberg still
recommended caution when it was no longer needed, and thus gave a
colour to the words of those who accused him of having shown too much
caution already, which they insinuated was but the result of old age.
On the 24th of June, only ten days after landing, William was in full
march southwards. James did not wait for his coming, but abandoned
Dundalk and retreated into Drogheda. His generals, indeed, represented
to him that caution and delay were his best policy against so powerful
a force, and even recommended that he should retreat beyond Dublin and
entrench himself at Athlone, as a more central and defensible position;
but James would not listen to this, and Tyrconnel strengthened him in
the resolution.

[Illustration: JAMES ENTERING DUBLIN AFTER THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE.
(_See p._ 431.)]

The morning of the 1st of July, destined to become a great epoch in
Ireland, rose brilliantly, and the opposing armies were in motion by
four o'clock. William overnight had given the word "Westminster" as
the recognition sign, and ordered his men to wear each a green sprig
in his hat, to distinguish them from the enemy, who, out of compliment
to France, wore a white cockade, generally of paper. According to
William's disposition of battle, Meinhart Schomberg, the son of the old
general, supported by Portland and Douglas with the Scottish guards,
was to take the right and secure the bridge of Slane. He himself
headed the left wing near Drogheda with a strong force of cavalry,
and Schomberg the centre, which was opposite Oldbridge, where he was
supported by the Blues of Solmes, and the brave Londonderries and
Enniskilleners, and on his left the French Huguenots under Caillemot,
and between them and William the Danes. Meinhart Schomberg found the
bridge of Slane already occupied by Sir Neil O'Neil, with a regiment of
Irish Dragoons; but the English charged them briskly, killed O'Neil,
and made themselves masters of the bridge. This was a grand advantage
at the outset. It enabled the English to attack the right wing of
James, and endangered their seizure of the pass of Duleek, a very
narrow defile in the hills, about four miles in their rear, by which
they would cut off altogether their retreat. Lauzun, who had posted
the main strength of the Irish infantry at the foot of Oldbridge,
and supported them by Sarsfield's horse, was compelled to despatch
the horse towards Slane Bridge, to guard against this danger, thus
weakening his centre.

Nearly at the same moment that this movement took place, William put
himself at the head of his cavalry, and with his sword in his left
hand, for his right arm was too sore and stiff from a gunshot received
on the previous day to hold it, he dashed into the river and led his
wing across. At the same moment Schomberg gave the word, and the centre
was in motion. Solmes' Dutch Blues led the way, and their example was
instantly followed by the men of Londonderry and Enniskillen, and at
their left the Huguenots. The men waded through the stream, holding
aloft their muskets and ammunition. The brunt of the encounter was
there, for there the enemy had expected the main attack, and had not
only concentrated their forces there, horse and foot, but had defended
the bank with a breastwork and batteries. The English had to advance
against the deadly fire from these defences, and from the thronging
Irish, who raised the wildest hurrahs, whilst they could return no fire
till they were nearly across and sufficiently raised from the water.
Then they saw the breastwork and the batteries lined with one mass of
foes. They, however, pushed resolutely forward, fired, charged the foe,
and in an instant the whole demoralised Irish broke and fled. Never was
there so complete and ignominious a rout. These men, on whom so much
depended, but who, despite all warnings to James, had been suffered to
plunder and riot without restraint or discipline, now dispersed with
so dastardly a rapidity that it was more like a dream than a reality.

The engagement was now general, from the left where William commanded,
almost under the walls of Drogheda, to the bridge of Slane. The English
and their allies had forced their way across the river, and were
engaged in fierce contest with the Irish horse and the French cavalry
and foot. When Schomberg saw the cavalry of Tyrconnel and Hamilton bear
down upon his centre, and that they had actually driven back Solmes'
Blues into the river, he dashed into the river himself, to rally and
encourage them. Probably stung by a generous sense of shame, for he
had discouraged the attempt to attack the Irish army in that position,
the old man now exhibited an opposite degree of incaution, for without
defensive armour he rushed into the _mêlée_, disregarding the advice
of his officers to put on his cuirass. As he rode through the river,
Caillemot was borne past him to the north bank mortally wounded, but
still crying to his brave Huguenots, "On! on! my lads! To glory! to
glory!" Schomberg took up the cry of encouragement to the men, appalled
by the loss of their general, and said, "Allons, messieurs, voilà vos
persécuteurs!" But scarcely had he uttered the words when he, too,
received a mortal wound and fell. When he was found he was dead, with a
bullet wound through his neck, and a couple of sword gashes on his head.

For half an hour the battle raged with a fury such as the oldest
soldiers of the Netherlands now declared they had never seen surpassed.
Hamilton and Tyrconnel led on their cavalry against Schomberg's forces
with a steadiness and bravery that were as much to their credit as
their conduct in civil life had been disgraceful. William, on his part,
had found a warm reception on the left. The Irish horse withstood him
stoutly, and drove back his guards and the Enniskilleners repeatedly.
On his first coming up to the Enniskilleners, he was mistaken for one
of the enemy, and was near being shot by a trooper. The mistake being
rectified, the Enniskilleners followed him with enthusiasm. William
threw away all thought of danger, and led them into the thickest of the
fight. At one moment a ball carried away the cock of his pistol, at
another the heel of his boot, but he still led on. The Enniskilleners
fought desperately, and the horse of Ginkell charged brilliantly.

[Illustration: KING WILLIAM III. AT THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE.

FROM THE PAINTING PROBABLY BY JAN. WYCK,
IN THE NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY.
]

They were thus fighting their way towards the centre, and had advanced
as far as Plottin Castle, about a mile and a half from Oldbridge,
when the Irish horse made a last furious effort, drove back the
Enniskilleners, and killed a number of them. William rallied them,
and again led them to the charge, broke the Irish cavalry, and took
prisoner Hamilton, who had been heading this gallant charge. When
William saw, wounded and a prisoner, the man who had proved so
traitorous to him when sent to Ireland, he said, "Is this business
over, or will your horse make more fight?" "On my honour, sir," replied
Hamilton, "I believe they will." "_Your_ honour, indeed!" muttered
William; but ordering the wounded man to be properly attended to, he
rode forward to join the main body and end the fight.

That was now soon over. The centre and the right wing had done dreadful
execution. They had nearly annihilated whole regiments. One of them
had only thirty men left without a wound. They had fought in a manner
worthy of a better cause and a better leader, for James had early
abandoned the field, and left his deluded followers to the mercy of the
enemy. No sooner did he see the Irish fly before the enemy at Oldbridge
than, from his safe position on the hill of Donore, he gave orders for
all the baggage and the artillery, except six pieces, already in full
employ in the engagement, to be conveyed with all speed on the road to
Dublin, so as to effect their passage through the defile of Duleek;
and, escorted by Sarsfield's horse, he made all haste after them.

If James was one of the worst and most infatuated monarchs that ever
reigned in time of peace, in war he was the most dastardly. In England
he fled disgracefully on the approach of William, without a blow, and
here again he showed the same utter want of spirit and energy. He had
taken no care to keep his soldiers disciplined and in proper tone for
the coming war, and he deserted them at the first symptoms of reverse.
If the English had pushed on briskly from the bridge of Slane, they
might still have intercepted him, and brought him prisoner to William;
but, the conflict over, they relaxed their efforts, and William gave
orders to spare the flying troops as much as possible. When Lauzun and
Tyrconnel approached the pass of Duleek with their retreating cavalry,
they found it choked with a confused mass of waggons, artillery, and
terrified fugitives. They therefore faced about, and repelled the
pursuers till the rout had got through. The cavalry of William still
followed the flying throng as far as the Neale, a second pass, and till
it grew dark, when they returned to the main army. James continued
his panic flight, however, never stopping till he reached Dublin.
The city had all day been in a state of intense excitement. First had
come the news that William was wounded, then that he was dead; amid
the rejoicing of the Jacobites came the horrid news of the defeat,
followed about sunset by James himself, attended by about two hundred
cavalry, haggard, wayworn, and covered with dust. All that night kept
pouring in the defeated troops, and early in the morning James, not
deeming himself safe, took leave of the mayor, aldermen, and officers
of his army, upbraiding the Irish with their cowardice in having
deserted him almost without a blow, and vowing that he would never
trust to an Irish army again. The Irish returned the compliment, and
declared that, if the English would exchange kings, they were ready to
fight again, and to conquer too. If any man had ever caused his own
misfortune and defeat, it was James; but he never took the means to
avoid discomfiture, and he never saw, or at least, never seemed to see,
that the blame lay with himself. Without, therefore, making another
effort, though he had a large army still on foot, and all the south of
Ireland to employ it in, he continued his flight towards Waterford, in
terror all the way lest he should be overtaken by William's cavalry,
and, reaching Waterford on the third day, he got away by water, without
loss of time, to Kinsale, whence he sailed for France, quitting Ireland
at the spot where he had entered it.

It might have been expected that Tyrconnel and Lauzun would yet
rally their forces at Dublin, and make a resolute stand there. But
the decisive defeat of the Boyne, the untrustworthiness of the Irish
infantry, the loss on the field amounting to upwards of one thousand
five hundred, and those chiefly cavalry, the desertion of vast numbers
of infantry on the road southward, and the precipitate flight of James,
discouraged them. Towards evening of the same day that James left,
Tyrconnel and Lauzun mustered their forces and marched out of the city,
determining to make their stand on the Shannon, within the strong
defences of Athlone and Limerick. No sooner had they evacuated the city
than the Protestants issued from their retreats, liberated all the
prisoners, and sent off messengers to invite William to enter his new
capital in triumph. This he did on the 6th of July, and then made for
Waterford.

William's object in reaching Waterford was to take ship for
England--not, like James, to abandon his army out of mere
cowardice--but in order to protect England too. He had received news
that the French, under Tourville, were hovering on the southern coast
of England; that they had again defeated the British fleet under the
wretched Torrington, and were meditating invasion of the country. He
hastened on; the Irish troops at his approach abandoned Clonmel and
Kilkenny. Waterford was similarly evacuated, and William, nominating
Count Solmes commander-in-chief during his absence, was about to
embark, when he received further intelligence. Tourville had made a
partial descent at Teignmouth in Devonshire, sacked it, and then drawn
off in consequence of the menacing attitude of the inhabitants of the
western counties. He therefore hastened to rejoin his army, which was
on the way towards Limerick, where Douglas had found such resistance
that he had been compelled to raise the siege. On the 9th of August he
sat down before that town, and found the Irish determined to make a
resolute defence of it.

The Irish, ashamed of their conduct at the battle of the Boyne,
and seeing their Saxon masters once more rapidly recovering their
ascendency in the island, one and all, men and officers, determined
on here making a stand to the death. They did not owe their spirit to
their French allies, for Lauzun and his officers ridiculed the idea of
defending the place, which they regarded as most miserably fortified.
Tyrconnel joined them in that opinion; but Sarsfield encouraged his
countrymen, and exhorted them to cast up breastworks of earth, which,
in our times--as at Sebastopol--have convinced military men that they
are far more impervious to cannon than stone or brick walls. He could
not convince the French, who had lost all faith in Irish prowess,
and who pined to return to France from the miseries and privations
of Ireland; nor Tyrconnel, who was old, and completely dispirited by
the action of the Boyne. He and the French drew off with the French
forces into Galway; and Boisseleau, a Frenchman, who _did_ sympathise
with the Irish, and Sarsfield, were left to defend the place. They
had yet twenty thousand men, who were animated by a new spirit, and
were destined to make the defence of Limerick as famous as that of
Londonderry.

Limerick stood partly on an island in the Shannon; and to take that
part it was necessary to have boats, for only a single bridge connected
the two parts of the town, or the two towns, as they were called--the
English and the Irish. William had a quantity of tin boats on the way
for this service, and his cannon and ammunition were also following
him. Sarsfield seized immediately on this circumstance when it came
to his knowledge. He got out of the city in the night, surprised
the escort of the guns, and destroyed the guns, blew up the powder,
and made good his return to the town. This exploit raised Sarsfield
wonderfully in the opinion of his countrymen, and at the same time
raised their own spirits.

William sent for fresh guns from Waterford, and pressed on the siege;
but the autumnal rains began to deluge the low, marshy banks of the
Shannon, and to sweep away his men with fever. The Irish, on the
other hand, had received a fresh stimulus to exertion in the arrival
of Baldearg O'Donnel, the chief of one of the most famous old races
of Ulster, who had been in the service of Spain, and had returned
to assist his countrymen in this last effort to throw off the yoke
of the Saxon. The high veneration for the name of the O'Donnel, and
the character of the man, placed him at the head of a large class of
the Irish in Limerick. There was a prophecy that an O'Donnel was to
conquer the English, and the enthusiastic Celts believed that this was
the time. And, in truth, the prediction appeared beginning to verify
itself, for, after a desperate attempt to take the town by storm on
the 27th of August, William resolved to raise the siege, and place his
troops in healthy quarters for the winter. During this attempt, William
had another narrow escape from a cannon-ball. His men, too, after
breaching the walls in several places, and carrying the counterscarp,
or covered way, suffered great loss. On the 30th the siege was raised,
and William hastened to Waterford, and thence to England. He left
the government of the island in the care of three Lords Justices,
namely, Viscount Sidney, Lord Coningsby, and Sir Charles Porter.
About the same time Tyrconnel and Lauzun quitted Ireland for France,
leaving the affairs of James in a council of civilians, and the army
under a commission, at the head of which stood the Duke of Berwick as
commander-in-chief, and in the very lowest place the brave Sarsfield,
of whom the aged Tyrconnel entertained a jealousy worthy of himself and
of his master.

[Illustration:

_Reproduced by André & Sleigh, Ld., Bushey, Herts._

A LOST CAUSE: THE FLIGHT OF JAMES II. AFTER THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE,
1690.

BY ANDREW C. GOW, R.A. FROM THE PAINTING IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY OF
BRITISH ART. ]

[Illustration: THE FRENCH RETREATING FROM TORBAY. (_See p._ 434.)]

We must now take notice of what had been passing in England and
Scotland during William's campaign in Ireland. Immediately after his
departure the traitor Crone was brought to the bar, and, after a full
and fair trial, convicted and condemned to death. Pardon, however,
was offered him on condition of his revealing what he knew of the
Jacobite machinations. After a violent struggle with himself, and after
two respites, he complied, and gave important information to the Privy
Council. The evidences of an active conspiracy of the Jacobites were
too prominent to be overlooked. Tourville, the French admiral, was
hovering on the coasts of Devon and Dorsetshire, and the Jacobites,
as expecting a descent of a French force, were all in a state of the
greatest excitement. It was deemed necessary to arrest a number of the
most dangerous conspirators, amongst whom was Clarendon, the queen's
uncle; and he and the rest were committed to the Tower. Torrington
was ordered to join the fleet in the Downs, and chase the French
admiral from the coast. At St. Helens he was joined by a powerful
Dutch squadron, under the command of Admiral Evertsen, and they lay
off Ventnor, whilst Tourville with his fleet lay off the Needles.
An engagement was expected every hour, when Torrington was seen to
draw off from the coast of the Isle of Wight, and retreat before the
French admiral towards the Strait of Dover. The alarm in London became
excessive. The scheme of the Jacobites, as it was revealed to the
Council, was to enter the Thames; the Jacobites in London had agreed to
rise and seize the queen, and proclaim James. James himself had engaged
to leave Ireland to Lauzun and Tyrconnel, and throw himself once more
amongst his adherents in England. Another squadron of the French was to
land at Torbay; and the country once in their possession, the united
French fleet was to cut off the return of William from Ireland. With a
knowledge of these plans, and the doubtful conduct of Torrington, the
Privy Council was in a state of great agitation. Caermarthen was for
the most decisive measures, in which he was energetically supported by
Monmouth. They proposed that Russell, who was not only a first-rate
officer, but a determined one, should be sent over to the fleet, and
Monmouth, at his own request, as a military officer, was sent with
him. A dispatch, however, was sent before them, ordering Torrington to
come to an engagement at all hazards, and this compelled him to act
before Russell and Monmouth could get on board. On the 30th of June,
the day before the battle of the Boyne, he felt himself compelled to
come to an engagement with Tourville off Beachy Head. Tourville had
eighty-two men-of-war; the united fleet of England and Holland did not
exceed sixty; but a Blake or Russell would have thought little of the
difference. Torrington, as had been too plainly evident in the affair
of Bantry Bay, was a man of very different stuff. When compelled to
fight, he determined that the Dutch should bear the brunt of it. He
therefore placed the Dutch vessels in the van, and gave the signal to
engage. The Dutch fought with their usual bravery, and for many hours
sustained almost the whole fury of the battle, little supported by
the English. Torrington showed no inclination to engage, but appeared
rather disposed to see the Dutch, whom he hated, annihilated. A few
of the English captains did their duty gallantly; but, so far as
Torrington was concerned, had it not been for the Dutch, the French
might have ascended the Thames, as Van Tromp formerly did, and insulted
the whole seaboard of the country at their pleasure. When the Dutch had
lost two admirals and many other officers they drew off, their ships
being in a terribly shattered condition. One of their dismantled ships
fell into the hands of the French, the others Torrington ordered to
be either burnt or towed away; and, ignominiously retiring into the
Thames, he pulled up the buoys, to prevent the French from following.
Tourville, however, had suffered so much from the Dutch, that he drew
off towards his own coast, and left the Londoners to suffer all the
alarms without the danger of invasion. London, indeed, was in the same
state of terror as in the time of the Dutch invasion of the Thames. The
wildest rumours were every hour arriving. The confidence in Torrington
was gone, and he was generally denounced as being a traitor to the
Government. Either he was a most incompetent commander or his heart was
not in the cause: and the latter was no doubt the fact; for, though
his treason was not patent at this time, it afterwards became certain
enough that he maintained a close correspondence with the Courts of
both St. Germains and Versailles. But, whether traitor or imbecile,
London was in no degree confident of his being able to repel the
French. It was believed by numbers that the dockyards at Chatham would
be destroyed, the ships in the Thames under protection of the Tower be
set fire to, and the Tower itself be cannonaded. To add to the gloom
and affright, the news of the defeat of Count Waldeck at Fleurus, in
the Netherlands, by Luxemburg, Louis's general, just then arrived.
Paris was ablaze with fireworks and rejoicings; London was all gloom
and panic.

And truly there were menacing circumstances. Tourville was bearding
the English on their own coasts; Torrington dared not or would not go
to encounter him; and Marshal Humières lay with a strong force on the
opposite shores, not far from Dunkirk, in readiness, it was believed,
to go on board Tourville's fleet and make a descent on England, where
the Jacobites were prepared to join the invaders. But on the fourth day
after the battle of Beachy Head arrived the news of William's splendid
victory on the Boyne, and the spirit of the nation rose at once. It
was felt that the ascendency of James was over, and the news of his
ignominious flight, which soon followed, completely extinguished the
hopes of his partisans, and gave stability to the throne of William and
Mary.

And this was soon strikingly demonstrated. Tourville triumphantly
ranged along the English coasts, after his victory at Beachy Head,
without opposition, and he now imagined that nothing was necessary to
the restoration of James but a descent on England with a tolerable
force, which was certain to be welcomed by the expectant Jacobites.
Accordingly Tourville took on board a considerable body of soldiers,
and made for the coast of Devon. His fleet numbered a hundred and
eleven sail, but of these a large number were mere Mediterranean
galleys, rowed by slaves, and sent as transports to carry over the
troops. On the 22nd of July he landed at Torbay, where William himself
had landed; but, instead of finding the gentry or the people ready
to join him in support of King James, the whole west rose as one man
at the glare of the beacon signals which blazed on the hill-tops.
Messengers were spurring from place to place all night to carry the
exact intelligence to the authorities; and the next morning all
Devonshire appeared to be marching for Torbay. Tourville speedily
beheld numbers of armed horsemen, the gentry and yeomanry of the
neighbourhood, assembled on the hills, and everything warned him to
embark again as quickly as possible. But he would not retire without
leaving some trace of his visit. He despatched a number of his galleys
to Teignmouth, where the French landed, set fire to the town, burned
down a hundred houses, destroyed the fishing-boats in the harbour,
killed or drove away all the live stock they could find, and demolished
the interior of the churches, the pulpits, the communion-tables, and
the Bibles and Prayer-books, which they tore up and trampled under
foot in their hatred of Protestantism. This specimen of what England
was to expect if she received back James at the point of French
bayonets produced the most salutary effects on the whole nation.

Mary showed herself equal to the emergency in the absence of her
husband. She applied to the Lord Mayor to know what state of defence
the City was in, and received the most prompt and satisfactory answer.
His lordship assured her that the City would stand by her to a man;
that it had ten thousand men, well armed and disciplined, prepared
to march, if necessary, at an hour's notice; that it would raise six
regiments of foot and two regiments of horse at its own cost, and
pay besides into the royal treasury a hundred thousand pounds. The
country everywhere displayed the same loyalty. The yeoman cavalry
of the different counties assembled in arms; those of Suffolk,
Essex, Hertford, and Buckingham, marched to Hounslow Heath, where
Mary received them amid acclamations of loyalty; she received the
cavalry troops of Kent and Surrey on Blackheath. The militia was
called out; noblemen hurried to their counties to take command of
the forces there; and others, amongst whom was the lately recreant
Shrewsbury, flocked to Whitehall to offer their lives and fortunes
for the defence of the throne. The miners of Cornwall appeared, ten
thousand in number, armed as best they might be, ready to expel the
invaders. Those of the Jacobites who stubbornly retained their faith in
James, who still designated him as the "stone which the builders had
foolishly rejected," and who by their secret press urged the people
to the assassination of William, and to vengeance on his Protestant
supporters, slunk into hiding-places and remained prudently quiet.
Even the non-juring clergy and bishops excited the indignation of
the masses as men who encouraged by their conduct the hopes of the
Papists; and the Bishop of Norwich was attacked in his palace, and was
only rescued by the prompt measures of the authorities. The non-jurors
were suspected of leaning not only to James, but to Popery; and a new
liturgy, which had been printed and industriously circulated, praying,
in no ambiguous words, for the restoration of James by a foreign
invasion, and for the murder of William, was widely believed to proceed
from them, although they strenuously denied it.

Such was the position of things in England when William returned from
Ireland. In Scotland great changes had taken place. The remains of the
Jacobite force in the Highlands had been effectually put down. In the
spring of 1690 James had sent over an officer with the commission of
General-in-Chief of the Jacobite forces in Scotland. General Buchan,
therefore, took precedence of the drunken and incompetent Cannon; but
all the troops that he could muster were not more than one thousand
four hundred, and these were surprised and crushed by William's
general, Sir Thomas Livingstone, who occupied Inverness. General
Mackay completed the subjugation of the Highlands by building a fort
at Inverlochy, called, after the king, Fort William, which effectually
held the Camerons and Macdonalds in check. The last chance of James was
over in that quarter.

At Edinburgh the battle with the disaffected politicians came very soon
to a similar end. The most prominent of them, Montgomery, Ross, and
Annandale, offered to yield their opposition if William would admit
them to favour and office; but William disdained to purchase their
adhesion, and they then, in resentment, flung themselves into the arms
of James. The treaty was carried on through the medium of James's
agent in London, one Neville Payne; and Mary, James's queen, sent
over dispatches, creating Montgomery for his treason Earl of Ayr and
Secretary of State, with a pension of ten thousand pounds to relieve
his immediate necessities, for he was miserably poor and harassed by
creditors. Ross was to be made an earl, and have the command of the
Guards; and Annandale was to be a marquis, Lord High Commissioner,
and Governor of Edinburgh Castle. But this measure, which the Court
of St. Germains fondly fancied was going to give them the ascendency
in the Scottish Parliament, produced an exactly contrary effect. The
old Tory Jacobites were so much incensed at this favour shown to these
renegade Whigs, whilst they themselves were passed over, that the whole
plot went to pieces in an explosion of jealousy, and on the meeting of
the nobles the new proselytes of Jacobinism, who were to have turned
the scale in favour of the Stuart dynasty, were found to be utterly
helpless and abandoned.

This turbulent and factious party being thus broken up, and some of
them going over to the new Government voluntarily as the means of
safety, and others being brought over by timely offers of place or
money, the settlement of the affairs of Scotland became tolerably easy.
The Presbyterian religion was declared the established religion of
Scotland. Contrary to the will of William, a Toleration Act for that
kingdom had been rejected. The confession of faith of the Westminster
Assembly was adopted; the remaining Presbyterian ministers who had been
rejected at the Restoration, now reduced from three hundred and fifty
to sixty, were restored, and the Episcopalian ministers were forcibly
ejected in turn, and Presbyterians installed. The old synodal polity
was restored, and the sixty old restored ministers, and such as they
should appoint, were ordered to visit all the different parishes, and
see that none but godly ministers, sound in the Presbyterian faith,
were occupying the manses and the pulpits. This, however, did not
satisfy a section of the old Cameronian school. They complained that
the Parliament had betrayed the Solemn League and Covenant, and had
sworn, and had caused others to swear, to a non-Covenanting monarch,
and they refused to bow the knee to this Baal. Thus a non-juring party
sprang up also in Scotland. In William's opinion, however, too much
had been done in the way of conformity; and on his return from Ireland
he selected as Lord High Commissioner to Scotland Lord Carmichael,
a nobleman of liberal mind, and accompanied this appointment by a
letter to the General Assembly, declaring that he would never consent
to any violent or persecuting measures, and that he expected the same
from them. "We never," he nobly observed, "could be of the mind that
violence was suited to the advancing of true religion; nor do we intend
that our authority shall ever be a tool to the irregular passions of
any party. Moderation is what religion enjoins, what neighbouring
churches expect from you, and what we recommend to you." And the
determination of the monarch put a strong and beneficial restraint on
the spirit of the religious zealots of the North.

[Illustration: EDINBURGH CASTLE IN 1725. (_From a Print of the
Period._)]

William had returned from Ireland with a great accession of power and
_éclat_. He had shown that the imbecile and bigoted James could not
stand for a moment before him; he had reduced Ireland to such general
subjection that the remaining insurgents in the south could not long
hold out. To hasten this result, and to cut off the access of fresh
reinforcements from France, he now sent out an expedition, which had
been some time preparing under Marlborough, to reduce Cork and Kinsale,
and garrison them for himself. That strange but able man, Marlborough,
though he was at this very moment in full correspondence with the Court
of St. Germains so as to meet all chances, and even the now remote
one of James ever regaining the throne, though he was disliked and
suspected by William and Mary, yet himself proposed this expedition,
anxious to grasp some of the glory of re-conquering Ireland, and
perhaps not inattentive to the equally attractive prospect of winning
booty. Marlborough was already lying at Portsmouth with his squadron
when William reached London; and sailing thence on the 18th, he landed
at Cork on the 21st of September, with five thousand men. The Duke of
Würtemberg there joined him with his four thousand Danes, together
making a strong force, but which was in danger of becoming paralysed
by the German duke insisting on taking the chief command on account
of his superior rank. Marlborough was not a man willingly to resign
any position likely to do him honour; but he consented to share the
command, taking it on alternate days. With him he had also the Duke of
Grafton, one of Charles II.'s illegitimate sons, who had fallen under
suspicion of leaning to his uncle James, but, to prove his loyalty to
William, came out as a volunteer. Cork was vigorously attacked, and
in forty-eight hours it capitulated. The garrison, between four and
five thousand men, surrendered as prisoners, and Marlborough promised
to use his endeavours to obtain the favour of William for both them
and the citizens. He forbade his troops to plunder, but was obliged to
use force to repel the hordes of wild people who rushed in and began
ransacking the Catholics. The Duke of Grafton fell in the attack.

Without losing a day, Marlborough sent forward his cavalry to Kinsale
to demand its surrender, and followed with his infantry. The Irish
set fire to the town, and retired into two forts, the Old Fort and
the New Fort. The English, however, managed to put out the fire, and
Marlborough arriving, invested the forts, and took the Old Fort by
storm, killing nearly five hundred men, who refused to surrender.
The garrison of the New Fort, after seeing Marlborough prepared to
storm that too, yielded on condition that they might go to Limerick.
They were twelve hundred strong. In this fort was found abundance of
provisions, a thousand barrels of wheat, and eighty pipes of claret.

Having executed this mission, and secured the two forts for the king,
Marlborough re-embarked, and reached London again in little more than a
month from the day that he sailed from Portsmouth. William, astonished
at the rapidity of this success, declared that there was no officer
living who had seen so little service, who was so qualified for a
general as Marlborough. The English people went still further, and
declared their countryman had achieved more in a single month than the
king's Dutch favourites in two campaigns.

On the 2nd of October William opened the new session of Parliament.
He was received with the warmest demonstrations of attachment. He had
shown himself strong, and James had shown himself weak. The country had
been alarmed by the menace of invasion, and all parties were disposed
to rally round the monarch who gave them every promise of security and
pre-eminence. In his speech he paid the highest tribute to the bravery
of the army, and declared that, had his affairs allowed him to have
begun the campaign earlier, he should have been able to clear the whole
country of the enemy. In order to do that in the ensuing campaign,
and to put a check on the too conspicuous designs of the French, it
would be essential to grant liberal supplies. He reminded them of the
dishonour which had befallen the English flag, and of the necessity of
promptness in Parliament to enable him to wipe away the stain, and to
secure the reputation of England by crushing the efforts of the king of
France.

His speech was received with loud acclamations. Thanks were voted
for his achievements in Ireland, and to the queen for her able
administration during his absence; and the Commons proceeded to vote
supplies on a scale which had yet had no example. The army was fixed
at sixty-nine thousand men, of whom twelve thousand were to consist of
cavalry. The navy was to consist of twenty-eight thousand men; and the
cost of the whole, including ordnance, was estimated at four million
pounds. In return for this unprecedented force and unprecedented
allowance for it, the Commons demanded that they should appoint a
commission of nine to examine and bring forward the accounts: the
commissioners to be all members of their own House. The proposition was
acceded to without opposition by both the peers and the king, and a
Bill, including the appointment of the commissioners, was prepared and
passed. On the 15th of November a Bill received the royal assent for
doubling the excise on beer, ale, and other liquors; and on the 20th
of December another Bill passed for granting certain duties upon East
India goods, wrought silks, and other merchandise; and a second Bill
for increasing the duties on wine, vinegar, and tobacco.

In considering ways and means, the Commons proposed, as they had laid
so many burdens on themselves, that the persons of all those who had
been engaged in the rebellion in Ireland should be attainted, and their
estates confiscated, and the proceeds be applied to the discharge
of the expenses of the war; and they brought in and passed a Bill
for that purpose. But the Lords did not appear inclined to sanction
so wholesale a confiscation of the estates of all the Catholics
of Ireland, as this would have amounted to; nor could it be very
acceptable to the king, though they proposed to place a considerable
portion of the forfeitures at his disposal. The Lords allowed the
Bill to lie on their table, notwithstanding several urgent reminders
from the Commons, and so at last it dropped. This must have been what
William particularly desired, for it was contrary to his natural
clemency to let loose the fiends of party fury after the sufficiently
deadly evils of war, and it was contrary to his promises to many who
had submitted on assurances of impunity; and having got the chief
supplies which he wanted, he sought to shorten the Session as much
as possible, by telling Parliament that, by a certain day, it was
necessary for him to leave for Holland on important affairs. Yet, after
the liberal votes of the Commons, still keeping in memory the disgrace
of the navy, he added that, if some annual provision could be made for
augmenting the navy, and building some new men-of-war, "it would be
a very necessary care for that time, both for the honour and safety
of the nation." The Commons thought so much the same that they voted
an additional five hundred thousand pounds expressly for building new
ships of war.

The last proceeding which marked this Session was the discovery of a
fresh Jacobite plot. The Tory minister Caermarthen had long been the
object of the particular enmity of the Whigs, and they were doing
everything possible to undermine his influence. At last their efforts
appeared to be growing perceptible. The king had introduced into the
ministry, one after another, men to whom Caermarthen had a particular
aversion, or who were particularly hostile to his power. Godolphin was
made First Lord of the Treasury; Marlborough was rising fast in the
military department; and Sidney was sent for by William from Ireland,
without consulting Caermarthen, and appointed Secretary of State. His
enemies were eagerly watching for the favourable moment to come down
on the declining minister and complete his ruin, when he suddenly, at
the very close of the year and the Session, laid before William all
the particulars of a desperate plot of the Jacobites, which showed
plainly enough that a minister of such vigilance was not to be lightly
dispensed with. Fortune, however, rather than his own sagacity, had
favoured the Prime Minister.

The anticipated absence of William from England in the spring appeared
to offer a favourable conjuncture for James making another attempt
for the recovery of the throne. The Jacobites, therefore, had met and
concluded to send three of their number to St. Germains to consult
with the Court there on the best means of effecting this object.
It was proposed that James should make great protestations of his
determination to allow of and secure the political and religious
rights of all his subjects, and that he should come attended only by
so moderate a force that it should not look like a French invasion.
The opinions of the leading Jacobites were to be conveyed by these
messengers in a packet of letters to be carefully concealed; and
amongst the writers of these letters were the Earl of Dartmouth,
Viscount Preston--so-called--and the Earl of Clarendon. This weak
man, whom William had warned through Rochester of his knowledge of
his practices, and who had declared that he would never again meddle
with treason, was again as busy as ever. A vessel was engaged, called
the _James and Elizabeth_, to carry over the three agents, namely,
Preston, Ashton, and Elliott, who were to come on board on the last
night of the year. The skipper of the _James and Elizabeth_, though
offered extraordinary pay for the trip, suspecting what was the nature
of his passengers, gave notice of the fact to Caermarthen, who sent and
boarded the vessel at midnight, when the traitors were secured along
with their papers, which were conveyed to the Secretary of State's
office at Whitehall, where Caermarthen and Nottingham passed the night
in examining the contents of the fatal packet, and the next morning
laid them before the king.

This great discovery, which fell like a thunderbolt on the Jacobites,
was scarcely less disconcerting to the Whigs. It was hopeless after
this to attempt anything against so alert and trusty a minister.
William, relieved from all apprehensions of danger by this timely
discovery, left the three traitors in the custody of his Government,
and the leaders yet at large under their eye, and hastened to get over
to Holland. On the 5th of January he prorogued Parliament till the 31st
of March; and in his farewell speech he said that he thought it proper
to assure them that he should make no grants of the forfeited lands in
England or Ireland; that those matters could be settled in Parliament
in such a manner as should be thought most expedient. Unfortunately,
this was a promise which William failed to keep, and which brought
upon him no lack of trouble in the future. On the 6th, whilst his
English subjects were indulging in all the festivities of the season,
William set out, attended by a splendid train of courtiers, for the
Hague, where a great Congress was appointed to consider the best means
of resisting the aggressions of Louis of France. He was received by his
subjects, after a dangerous voyage, with shouts of joy.

William's spirit and sound sense seemed to reanimate the drooping
energies of the Allies. The quota of troops to be furnished by every
prince was determined; it was agreed to bring two hundred and twenty
thousand men into the field in spring, and never to rest till they
had not only driven Louis from the territories of his neighbours,
but had compelled him to give toleration to his Protestant subjects.
These matters arranged, William made use of the influence which the
new alliance with the Duke of Savoy gave him, to procure a cessation
of the persecutions of the duke's Protestant subjects, the Waldenses.
To him these simple mountain shepherds--Christians of a Church
remaining independent of Rome from the earliest times--owed it that
they could once more live in peace; that numbers of them were released
from dungeons, and their children, who had been torn from them to be
educated in Popery, were restored.

All being thus favourably settled, the princes dispersed to their
several States, and William retired to obtain a short period of
relaxation at Loo. But he was speedily roused from his repose. The
proceedings of the Congress had been closely and anxiously watched by
Louis of France. He saw that its deliberations were certain to produce
a profound impression on Europe, and he resolved to neutralise this
by one of his sudden and telling blows. At once all his available
means and forces were put in motion. A hundred thousand soldiers were
in rapid march on Mons, one of the most important fortresses of the
Spanish Netherlands. Louis did not even trust the operations of this
assault to his famous general, Luxemburg, and the greatest military
genius of the age, Vauban; but he hurried to the scene of action
himself, early as the season was--in March. Five days after the siege
commenced Louis was there, accompanied by the Dauphin, the Dukes of
Orleans and of Chartres. He pushed on the attack with vigour, to have
it over before any assistance could arrive. Though suffering from the
gout, he went about amongst the soldiers, encouraging them by the
blandest and most familiar addresses; helped personally to bind up
their wounds in the hospitals, and partook of the broth prepared for
them. With his quick perception of the dangers from his adversaries, he
had noticed the diversion which it was intended that the Duke of Savoy
should make, by taking the field on that side; and he had suddenly
thrown an army into Savoy, captured Nice, and provided the duke with
enough to do to hold his own. By this means he had been able to bring
from the Maritime Alps a large body of troops to this siege.

William was sensible of the disastrous effect which the fall of
Mons would have on the spirits of his Allies, and on the Courts of
Sweden and Denmark which had been brought to the point of joining
the confederation; he therefore rushed from his place of temporary
retirement, mustered the forces of the States-General, sent dispatches
after the German princes, urging them to bring up all the troops they
could collect to the rescue of Mons, and to the generals of the Spanish
troops in Flanders. By forced marches he advanced towards the devoted
city; but all the vices of confederations were now glaringly apparent
in contrast to the single and prompt action of a despot. The German
princes, naturally slow, were already far off; the Spanish generals
were utterly unprepared for such an emergency; and William found it
almost impossible to procure even horses to drag his artillery and
stores. He sent on, however, hasty messengers to apprise the people of
Mons of his approach; but the vigilance of the French prevented them
from reaching the city. An immense quantity of artillery was thundering
against the walls of Mons; breaches were made in them; a redoubt was
carried, sword in hand; shells fell in showers on the roofs and streets
of the town, which was burning in ten places. The inhabitants, appalled
by the terrible destruction awaiting them, threatened to murder the
garrison if they did not surrender; and the garrison, ignorant of the
relief which William was bringing, surrendered on the 20th of April.
William, deeply chagrined, returned to the Hague, and thence hastened
back to London; whilst Louis, in proud triumph, returned to Versailles
to receive the congratulations of his courtiers on his splendid
_coup-de-main_.

On William's return to London, he found his Government had tried the
traitors, Preston, Ashton, and Elliott. Preston and Ashton were found
guilty, and sentenced to death; Elliott was not brought to trial. By
some it has been asserted that the evidence of his being admitted
into the real interior of the plot was not clear; by others, that he
purchased his escape by disclosures. Ashton was hanged on the 18th of
January--the very day on which William had embarked at Gravesend for
Holland. Preston, after much vacillation between the desire to accept a
proffered pardon and repugnance to the conditions attached to it--that
of making a full disclosure of his accomplices--at length chose life
and dishonour, and made charges against Clarendon, Dartmouth, Turner
Bishop of Ely, and William Penn. Clarendon was sent for a time to the
Tower; Dartmouth, who was accused, as an admiral, of the heinous crime
of intending to betray Portsmouth to the French, indignantly repelled
the accusation, and died in the Tower without having been brought to
trial. Turner escaped to France. Penn was accused of writing to James
to assure him that, with thirty thousand men, he might command England.
But this message to James rested on the evidence of the lying and
infamous Melfort, who was totally unworthy of all belief; and Penn,
so far from shrinking from the charge, went straight to Sidney, the
Secretary of State, and denied the whole allegation. That he had a
friendly feeling for and commiseration of James, he did not deny; but
he declared himself a faithful subject of William and Mary, and, so
far from being willing to aid any design against them, if he became
aware of any such he would at once disclose it. Instead of clapping
Penn in the Tower--which the Government would have done, had they any
such letters inviting James to come over with thirty thousand men,--he
was suffered to depart in full freedom. He afterwards made a religious
journey on the Continent as a minister of the Society of Friends, and
then he returned to England; but without any attempt on the part of
Government to molest him.

But there were deeper and more real traitors than any of these around
William--namely, Admiral Russell, Sidney Godolphin, and Marlborough.
These men, encouraged by the fall of Mons and the triumphant aspect of
Louis's affairs, renewed with fresh activity their intrigues with the
Court of James. It was in vain that William heaped riches, honours,
and places of confidence upon them; they were ready to receive any
amount of favours, but still kept an eye open to the possible return of
James, and made themselves secure of pardon from him, and kept him duly
informed of all the intended movements of William both at home and on
the Continent. Russell was made High Admiral in place of Torrington. He
was Treasurer of the Navy, enjoyed a pension of three thousand pounds
a year, and a grant from the Crown of property of great and increasing
value near Charing Cross. But, with an insatiable greediness, he still
complained of unrequited services; and, having a shoal of poor and
hungry relatives badgering him for places and pensions, he complained
that their incessant demands could not be gratified; and he cherished
the hope that he could sell his treason at a favourable crisis to
King James at no mean price. Godolphin was First Commissioner of the
Treasury, sat in the Privy Council, and enjoyed the confidence of the
sovereign; his former conduct in being one of the most pliant tools
of James, ready to vote for his Act of Indulgence, being overlooked.
Yet he was sworn, through the agency of a Mr. Bulkeley, to serve the
interests of James. Hand in hand with him went Marlborough, who--though
he was now fast overcoming the long-retained prejudices of William,
and had been honoured by his commission in the expedition to Ireland,
and by his warm approbation on his return, and had the prospect of
a brilliant command of the army in Flanders, where he could indulge
his highest ambition--was yet a most thorough traitor, making a
hypocritical pretence of great sorrow to James for his desertion of
him, and, through Colonel Sackville, and Lloyd, the non-juring Bishop
of Norwich, offering, on a good opportunity, to carry over the whole
army to James.

Amid these lurking treasons, the exultation of the Jacobites over the
fall of Mons was open and insolent. They came by swarms out of their
hiding-places, and thronged the Park and the neighbourhood of the
Palace, even insulting the queen in her drives before William's return.

William's indignation on hearing these facts roused him to put the laws
in force against the non-juring bishops. The most extraordinary lenity
had been shown them. They had been suffered to reside in their sees and
occupy their palaces; they had been offered to be excused taking the
oaths on condition that they would live quietly, and discharge their
ecclesiastical functions of ordaining ministers, confirming their young
flocks, and other such duties, but without avail. Now that Turner was
discovered in treasonable correspondence with St. Germains, and the
rest refused to disavow what he had attributed to them in his letters,
it was resolved to eject them. Sancroft was ejected from Lambeth,
and Tillotson was nominated Archbishop of Canterbury in his place;
Ken was removed from Bath and Wells, and Kidder instituted in his
stead. In place of Turner, succeeded Dr. Patrick; Fowler was appointed
to Gloucester, and Cumberland to Peterborough. Soon after Lamplugh,
Archbishop of York, died and Dr. Sharp took his place. Sancroft
continued to maintain all his old pugnacity, and nominated other
bishops in opposition to William's Government as sees fell vacant.
But perhaps the most savage outcry was raised on the appointment of
Dr. Sherlock to the deanery of St. Paul's, vacated by the election of
Tillotson to Canterbury. Tillotson himself was furiously assailed by
the Jacobites as a thief and a false shepherd, who had stolen into the
fold of the rightful pastor. Sherlock had been a zealous non-juror
himself, but had been seriously convinced of the Scriptural ordinance
to submit to any Government, whatever its origin, which was firmly
established. He was, therefore, violently and scurrilously assailed
as a perjured apostate. Amongst the ejected non-juring clergy, Henry
Dodwell was so insolent, that William remarked, "That Dodwell wants
me to put him in prison, but I will disappoint him." The magnanimous
forbearance of William, and the audacious impertinence of the
non-jurors in consequence, form a wonderful contrast.

[Illustration: THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. (_After the Portrait by Sir
Godfrey Kneller._)]

Scarcely had William time to settle these affairs, and arrange the plan
of campaign in Ireland, when he was compelled to return to Holland.
Unaware as yet of the more recent treason of Marlborough, he took
him with him. He had conceived the highest opinion of his military
talents, and he was confirmed in this opinion, on his arrival at the
Hague, by the Prince of Vaudemont, a distinguished commander in the
Dutch service. He praised highly the Generals Talmash and Mackay; as
to Marlborough, he declared that he had every quality of a general;
that his very look showed it, and that he was certainly destined to do
something great. William replied that he was of the same conviction.

William found himself at the head of seventy thousand men of various
nations, the different contingents of the Allies, and the beginning of
the campaign was very promising. He sent Marlborough on to Flanders to
collect the forces there, and form a camp to cover Brussels against
the advance of Luxemburg and the French. His convenient position no
doubt suggested to James the idea of his immediate execution of his
promised treason. James, therefore, sent him word that he expected his
fulfilment of his engagement; but to this startling demand Marlborough
replied that the time was not come. It was necessary to have first
obtained a complete ascendency over the troops, or, instead of
following him, they would abandon him, and the only consequence would
be making things worse. William's immediate arrival put an end to
the temptation, and he marched against Luxemburg, who retired before
him. He next sent a detachment against Marshal Boufflers, who was
besieging Liége, and, having succeeded in this, he crossed the Sambre,
to endeavour to bring Luxemburg to an engagement. But this crafty
general, who had an inferior though well-appointed army, took care to
avoid a general action, calculating that William's army, made up of so
many nonentities, would, if let alone, ere long go to pieces. Thus the
summer was spent in marches and counter-marches without any result,
except of wearying out the patience of William, who in September
surrendered the command to the Prince of Waldeck, and retired to his
favourite hunting-seat at Loo, and soon after returned to England.

The summer campaign was carried on by the Allies in other quarters
with more or less success. In Spain the French made some barbarous
inroads, but were vigorously repelled. They were more successful in
their combat with the Duke of Savoy. Marshal Catinat took several of
their towns, besieged Coni, and advanced within three leagues of Turin,
the duke's capital. Just, however, as they were hoping for a signal
triumph, they were arrested by the appearance of a new hero, destined,
in co-operation with Marlborough, to shake to the foundations the power
of Louis XIV. This was Eugene, Prince of Savoy. Eugene, being joined
by young Schomberg with a few troops, and some money from William, at
the suggestion of Schomberg made a sudden march across the mountains,
raised the siege of Coni, and then, issuing on the plains, drove back
Catinat, and regained Carmagnola. On the Rhine, where the Elector
of Saxony commanded, nothing of moment was effected; but the French
allies, the Turks, who were harassing Austria, received a severe defeat
at Salankeman, on the Danube, which placed the Emperor of Germany at
his ease.

The campaign in Ireland did not begin till June. The condition of that
island during the winter was miserable in the extreme. The ravages
which the Irish--mad with oppression, ignorance, and revenge, let loose
by the frightful policy of James--had inflicted on the country from the
north to the south, such as we have described them, must necessarily
have left it a prey to famine, chaos, and crime. In the north, where
the Protestants had regained the power, there was the commencement
of restoration. Those who had fled to England with their movable
property came swarming back. It was, indeed, to towns burnt down and
fields laid waste; but they brought with them money, and, still more,
indomitable energies, which impelled them instantly to begin rebuilding
their dwellings, at least in such a manner as to shelter them from the
elements, and to cultivate and sow their fields. Commerce came back
with them; and the estuaries of the Foyle, the Lagan, the Bann, the
Carlingford, and the Boyne were busy with ships and boats pouring in
food, seed, and live-stock. So soon as Nature had time to do her part
and to ripen her crops, there would be once more comparative plenty,
and there was an animating prospect of a secure permanence of peace
and order. But in the south, and still more the south-west, where the
troops of James still held their ground, the condition of things was
as appalling as can be conceived. In the north the Protestants kept
a tight hand on the native Irish; they refused them the possession
of arms; they forbade them to proceed more than three miles from
their own dwellings, except to attend market; and not more than five
Papists were to meet together on any occasion or pretence. They forbade
them to approach the frontier within ten miles, to prevent them from
communicating with the enemy. If outrages were committed, they were
visited with unsparing severity. But if the north was strict and yet
struggling, the south was in a fearful state of calamity. The soldiers
traversed the country, levying contributions of cattle and provisions
wherever they could find them. They were no better than so many
bandits and rapparees, who swarmed over the desolated region, carrying
violence, terror, and spoliation wherever they came. There was no money
but James's copper trash, bearing high nominal values. Provisions and
clothes, where they were to be had, fetched incredible prices; and
merchants feared to approach the ports, because they were in as much
danger of wholesale robbery as the shopkeepers and farmers on land.

In the Irish camp the utmost license, disorder, and destitution
prevailed. The Duke of Berwick was elected to command during the
absence of Tyrconnel in France; but his power was a mere fiction, and
he let things take their course. Sarsfield was the only officer who had
any real influence with the soldiers. But early in the spring Tyrconnel
returned, bringing some supplies of money and clothing; and in April a
fleet also arrived, bringing arms, ammunition, flour, and provisions.
With these came what was much needed--two general officers--St. Ruth
and D'Usson. St. Ruth was a general of considerable experience. He
had lately served in Savoy, and had the _prestige_ of victory; but
he was vain and cruel, was mortally hated by the Huguenots for his
persecutions of them, and was called by them "the hangman." His very
name, therefore, was a guarantee for the Huguenot troops in the English
service fighting to the utmost. He was astonished and disgusted at the
dirty, ragged, and disorderly crew that bore the name of the Irish
army; but he began actively to repress their license, and to drill them
into some discipline.

On the 6th of June Ginkell took the field against him with a body of
efficient troops, reinforced by some excellent regiments from Scotland,
and having now under his command Talmash and Mackay, two brave
officers. At the head of the French refugees was the Marquis Ruvigny,
the brother-in-law of General Caillemot, who fell at the Boyne. On
the 7th Ginkell reached Ballymore, and compelled the fortress there,
containing a garrison of one thousand men, to surrender, and sent all
the prisoners to Dublin. Having placed the fortress, which stood on an
island in the lake, in good defence, he marched forward, and, on the
18th, sat down before the very strongly-fortified town of Athlone. On
his march he had been joined by the Duke of Würtemberg and his Danish
division.

Athlone stood on the Shannon, the river cutting it in two. The stream
there was deep and rapid, and was spanned by a bridge on which stood
two mills, worked by the current below, and on the Connaught side was a
strong fort, called King John's Fort, with a tower seventy feet high,
and flanking the river for a distance of two hundred feet. The town
on the Leinster side, where Ginkell was, was defended by bold earthen
ramparts, the most indestructible of any kind by cannon. Ginkell,
however, lost no time in attacking it. On the 20th his cannon were all
in order for bombarding, and he opened a terrible fire on the town.
Under cover of his fire the troops rushed to the walls, and the French
refugees were the first to mount a breach, and one of them, flinging
his grenade, fell with a shout of triumph. His example was quickly
followed. The assailants sprang over the walls in hundreds, clearing
the way with hand grenades; and the Irish giving way, there was a hot
pursuit along the bridge, by which they sought to escape into the other
half of the town. The crash and confusion there were such, that many of
the flying Irish were trodden under foot, and others were forced over
the parapets of the bridge, and perished in the Shannon. The near side
of the town was in Ginkell's possession, with the loss of only twenty
men killed and forty wounded.

The cannonade was continued on the bridge and on the town across the
river, and the next day it was repeated with increased effect from
batteries thrown up along the river bank. The next morning it was
discovered that the mills were greatly damaged; one, indeed, had
taken fire, and its little garrison of sixty men had perished in
it. A great part of the fort had also been beaten down. The French
officers had constructed a _tête-de-pont_ at the end of the bridge
to assist the fort, had broken down some of the arches, and made the
conquest of a passage by the bridge next to impossible. To add to the
difficulty of the enterprise, St. Ruth had hastened from Limerick
with an army superior in numbers to that of Ginkell. But this force
was more imposing in appearance than formidable in reality. St. Ruth,
calculating on the difficulty of the passage, imagined that he could
hold the place with little loss till the autumnal rains drove the
English from the field through sickness. He therefore ordered D'Usson
to attend to the defence of the passage, and fixed his camp about three
miles from the town.

There was a weak spot, however, which was pointed out to Ginkell--a
ford at some little distance from the bridge. It is true that a force
was posted to guard this ford, commanded by Maxwell, an officer who had
recently been to St. Germains with dispatches from the Duke of Berwick,
and was put into command at this ford by Tyrconnel in defiance of St.
Ruth--the interference of Tyrconnel in military affairs, much to the
disgust of St. Ruth, being as constant as if he were commander-in-chief
as well as lord-lieutenant. Sarsfield soon became aware of the design
of Ginkell to attempt this ford, and warned St. Ruth of it. But the
vanity of that officer made him treat the warning with scorn. "What!"
said he, "attempt the ford; they dare not do it, and I so near." Warned
again, he exclaimed, "Monsieur! Ginkell's master ought to hang him
for attempting to take Athlone, and mine ought to hang me if I let
him." Sarsfield, who knew better what the enemy dared do, said as he
withdrew, "He does not know the English."

[Illustration: THE ASSAULT OF ATHLONE. (_See p._ 443.)]

Ginkell himself, after reconnoitring the ford and the breastwork
opposite, had no great desire for the attempt. He continued the
cannonade on the fort and town till the end of June, and it became
necessary, from the want of forage, to advance or retreat. A council
of war was called. Mackay was against the attempt, but Würtemberg,
Talmash, and Ruvigny were for it, and Ginkell, though hesitatingly,
consented. There was observed a degree of carelessness in the Irish
soldiers guarding the ford; there had been a rumour in their camp that
the English were about to retreat in despair, and the light-hearted
Hibernians had begun to relax their vigilance, and to gamble and idle
about. It was resolved to seize the opportunity and dash over at
once. Fifteen hundred grenadiers were selected for the service, and a
handsome present was distributed to each man. The Duke of Würtemberg,
Talmash, and a number of other officers volunteered to accompany them
as privates, and the spirits of the men rose to enthusiasm. In memory
of the auspicious day at the Boyne they stuck each a green twig in
their hats, and, locking their arms twenty abreast, they plunged into
the stream. In their ardour they lifted up the Duke of Würtemberg
and bore him on their shoulders. Six battalions were drawn up ready
to support them, under the command of Mackay. The stream, even at
the ford, was deep enough to reach their chins, and very strong; but
the resolute men pressed on, and soon got firm footing, and, with a
stunning shout, reached the other bank. The Irish, suddenly aroused
to the danger, hurried to the bank, fired a single volley, and broke.
The grenadiers the next moment were over the breastwork, and in full
pursuit of the enemy. In a few minutes they had chased the guards from
the head of the bridge; planks were thrown over the broken arches, and
the troops, rushing over, enabled others to cross in rude pontoons; and
in less than an hour the English were masters of the town, with the
loss of only twelve men killed and about thirty wounded.

[Illustration: SCENE AT THE REMOVAL OF THE IRISH SOLDIERS FROM
LIMERICK. (_See p._ 447.)]

D'Usson made a vain attempt to regain the town; he was repelled with
ruinous loss, and was himself thrown down by the flying rout and nearly
trampled to death. St. Ruth, when he heard that the town was taken,
exclaimed, "Taken! that is impossible, and I close at hand." But he
found it no longer safe to be so close at hand. In the night, covered
with shame at his folly and absurd confidence, he struck his tents, and
made a hasty retreat towards Aghrim, where, encouraged by the natural
strength of bogs and hills, he halted and entrenched himself. There
was the fiercest bickering in the camp; the French party and the Irish
charging each other with the misfortune. St. Ruth, to excuse himself,
laid the blame on Maxwell, whose duty it was to guard the ford. Maxwell
was not there to defend himself, for his soldiers fled faster than
he, and he was made prisoner. But Tyrconnel, who had always supported
Maxwell, protested that he had done his duty like a brave man, and had,
along with himself, repeatedly warned St. Ruth of his temerity. The
dispute rose so high that Tyrconnel quitted the camp, and retired to
Limerick in high dudgeon.

Being relieved from the presence and interference of Tyrconnel, St.
Ruth again resolved to fight. He was stung by the loss of reputation
which he had sustained at Athlone, and by the reflection of its
injurious impression at the Court of France. Sarsfield, one of those
Cassandra-like counsellors who give the most prudent advice but are
never listened to, attempted to dissuade him. He pointed out how far
superior in discipline and bottom were the troops of Ginkell to those
which he now commanded, and recommended a system of excursive warfare,
which should harass and, by seizing favourable crises, defeat the
English piecemeal. His words were lost on St. Ruth, who prepared for
the approach of Ginkell by going amongst his soldiers personally to
rouse their desire to reconquer their good name, and by sending the
priests amongst them to stimulate them by religious motives. Ginkell
did not let him wait long. As soon as he had settled the defences of
Athlone, he pursued his march towards Aghrim.

On the 12th of July he came up with the army of St. Ruth, and found it
very strongly posted. Before him was a morass of half a mile across;
beyond the morass rose the hills round the old ruined castle of Aghrim,
and at their feet, between them and the bog, the infantry were strongly
entrenched, and supported by the cavalry posted commandingly on the
slopes of the hills. Difficult as was the approach, it was recommended
by Mackay to make an instant attack, whilst the spirits of the troops
were high from the first sight of the enemy they had so lately beaten.
The battle was determined on, though it was getting late in the
afternoon. The infantry struck boldly into the red bog, and plunged
on courageously, though often up to their waists in mud and water.
Mackay led his horse against their right, and Eppinger's dragoons and
Portland's horse advanced against their left. The cavalry found their
way through the bogs very difficult; the Dutch and English dragoons
met with a repulse in the pass of Urachree, and the infantry were in
front of the enemy long before the cavalry could operate on the wings.
The Irish infantry that day fought bravely. They poured a fierce fire
into the English, and were well supported by the horse. The battle
became desperate; the English fought their way into the entrenchments,
and drove the Irish up one of the hills; but there they found two old
Danish forts, the old castle of Aghrim, and every hedge and thicket
lined with muskets. The contest was unequal, and the infantry found
themselves at length driven back to the margin of the bog. Elated at
the sight, St. Ruth exclaimed, "The day is ours! Now will we drive
these English back to the gates of Dublin!"

But he was deceived. Talmash rallied the foot, and led them again
to the conflict; and whilst the struggle was renewed and the day
fast closing, St. Ruth perceived the horse of Mackay and Ruvigny,
the English and Huguenot cavalry, approaching on the right. They
came over but a few soldiers abreast, through a narrow track between
the bogs; but they soon formed in a dense body, and St. Ruth rode
off to encounter them and stop them from out-flanking his force. As
he galloped up towards them, a cannon-shot carried off his head.
The officers threw a cloak over his body to prevent his fall from
disheartening his men. But the absence of command was soon felt. The
English fought with fresh fury; and Sarsfield, who was in the rear with
the reserve, waiting orders, did not advance till the Irish ranks were
broken and all was over. The flight became general. The English horse
pursued and hewed down the fugitives as long as they could see; and had
not Sarsfield covered the miserable fugitives with his horse, scarcely
a man of the infantry would have been left.

The English army camped for the night on the ground which had been
occupied by the enemy. Nearly twenty thousand English and their allies
entered the battle against something more than the same number of Irish
and French. On the side of the English six hundred were killed and one
thousand wounded. On the part of the Irish four thousand fell on the
field, and nearly as many are said to have perished in the flight. The
panic-stricken multitude, flinging their arms away, continued their
flight, some of them to Limerick, and others to Galway, where D'Usson
was now in command. Whole waggon-loads of muskets and other arms were
picked up and purchased by Ginkell at a few pence apiece.

The English spent the next day in burying their own dead; but left
the corpses of the Irish on the field, and marched forward to attack
Galway. D'Usson, who had about two thousand five hundred men in Galway,
made at first a show of resistance, calculating on the assistance
of Baldearg O'Donnell. But O'Donnell, after endeavouring in vain to
bargain for an earldom, consented to accept five hundred pounds a year
and a commission in William's army. This unexpected event compelled
D'Usson to surrender, on condition that he might march out and join the
Irish army in its last place of retreat, Limerick.

Ginkell soon followed and invested the town. The last struggle for a
monarch little worthy the cause of so much bloodshed was now to be
fought out. At Limerick the Irish were to make their last stand for
the possession of their native country. If they failed here, the Saxon
remained absolute lord of their soil.

On the 14th of August the advanced guard of Ginkell's army appeared in
sight of Limerick. On the same day Tyrconnel, who was in authority in
this city, died of apoplexy, and D'Usson and Sarsfield were left in
full command of the troops. A commission was produced, which appointed
three lords-justices--Plowden, Fitton, and Nagle; but the city was in
reality a military garrison, and the military ruled. There were fifteen
thousand infantry in the town, and three or four thousand cavalry
posted on the Clare side of the Shannon, communicating with the town on
the island by the Thomond bridge. By this means communication was kept
up with the country on that side, so that provisions might be brought
in; and several cargoes of biscuits and other dry stores were imported
from France. The country all around, however, had been so swept by
successive forages, that it was difficult to collect any cattle or
corn, and the stoutest hearts were little confident of being able to
maintain a long defence.

Ginkell took possession of the Limerick side of the town, and
reoccupied the ground before held by the besiegers. He commenced by
erecting fresh batteries of far heavier cannon than William brought to
bear on the city, and soon poured a fiery storm of balls and shells
into it, which crashed in the roofs and laid whole streets desolate. At
the same time a squadron of English men-of-war sailed up the Shannon,
and closed access to the city or escape from it by water. The town,
however, held out till the 22nd of September, when Ginkell, beginning
to fear the rains and fevers of autumn, and that they might compel him
to draw off, and thus continue the war to another year, determined to
obtain possession of the bridge, and attack the cavalry on the other
side. He therefore passed the river by a bridge of William's tin boats,
and, assaulting the cavalry, put them to utter rout. They left their
camp with many arms and much store of provisions, and fled with as much
precipitation as they had done from Aghrim, scattering again the whole
country with their arms. Ginkell next attacked the fort which defended
the bridge, carried it and the bridge, and thus was able to invest the
whole town. In the haste to draw up the movable part of the bridge
nearest to the city, the soldiers retreating from the fort were shut
out, and a terrible massacre was made of them on the bridge. Out of
eight hundred men only one hundred and twenty escaped into Limerick.

This disaster broke the spirit of the Irish entirely. Even the
stout-hearted Sarsfield was convinced that all was over, and it was
resolved to capitulate. An armistice was agreed to. The Irish demanded
that they should retain their property and their rights; that there
should be perfect freedom for the Catholic worship, a Catholic priest
for every parish, full enjoyment of all municipal privileges, and full
capability to hold all civil and military offices. Ginkell refused
these terms, but offered others so liberal that they were loudly
condemned by the English, who were hungering after the estates of the
Irish. He consented that all such soldiers as desired to continue in
the service of James should be not only allowed to do so, but should
be shipped to France in English vessels; that French vessels should
be permitted to come up and return in safety; that all soldiers who
were willing to enter William's service should be received, and
that on taking the oath of allegiance all past offences should be
overlooked, and they and all Irish subjects taking the oaths should
retain their property, should not be sued for any damages or spoliation
committed during the war, nor prosecuted for any treason, felony, or
misdemeanour, but should, moreover, be capable of holding any office or
practising any profession which they were capable of before the war.
They were to be allowed to exercise their religion in peace as fully as
in the reign of Charles II. It is to the disgrace of England that this
part of the treaty should not have been kept.

These terms were accepted, and the treaty was signed on the 3rd of
October, and thus terminated this war, which, in the vain endeavour
to restore a worthless monarch, had turned Ireland into a desert and
a charnel-house. When it came to the choice of the soldiers to which
banner they would ally themselves, out of the fifteen thousand men,
about ten thousand chose to follow the fortunes of James, and were
shipped off with all speed, as they began to desert in great numbers.
Many of those who actually embarked did it under a solemn assurance
from Sarsfield that their wives and children should go with them; but,
once having the men on board, this pledge was most cruelly broken, and
the greatest part of the women and children were left in frantic misery
on the shore. The scenes which took place on this occasion at Cork are
described as amongst the most heartrending in history. But this agony
once over, the country sank down into a condition of passive but gloomy
quiet, which it required more than a century to dissipate. Whilst
Scotland again and again was agitated by the endeavours to reinstate
the expelled dynasty, Ireland remained passive; and it was not till the
French Revolution scattered its volcanic fires through Europe that she
once more began to shake the yoke on her galled neck. Yet during all
this time a burning sense of her subjection glowed in her blood, and
the name of the Luttrel who went over to the Saxon at the dividing day
at Limerick, and received for his apostacy the estates of his absent
brother, remained a term of execration amongst the Irish. Meanwhile the
Irish regiments which went to France won a brilliant reputation in the
wars of the Continent, and many of the officers rose to high position
in France, in Spain, in Austria, and Prussia. Their descendants still
rank with the nobility of those countries.

CHAPTER XIII.

WILLIAM AND MARY.

On the 19th of October William arrived from Holland, and on the 22nd he
opened Parliament. He congratulated it on the termination of the war
in Ireland, and on the progress of the English arms both on land and
sea. It was true that on the Continent there had been no very decisive
action, but the Allies had compelled the French to retreat before
them, and to confess their power by avoiding a general engagement
with them. At sea, though not so much had been effected in some
directions as might have been hoped, yet the French had been driven
from the open into their own ports, and an English fleet had convoyed
a large merchant fleet from the Mediterranean in safety. This was
very different to previous years, when their cruisers had made great
captures of our merchantmen. We had also sent a fleet up the Shannon,
which prevented them from aiding the insurgents in Ireland, and were
now in undisputed supremacy again on the ocean. Of course William had
to demand heavy supplies to maintain the fleet in this position, and to
pursue the war with vigour against Louis. All this the members of both
Houses listened to with apparent satisfaction, and voted him cordial
thanks.

On the 6th of November it was unanimously voted in the Commons that
the supplies asked for by the Crown should be granted; and first
they voted £1,575,898 for the service of the navy, including the
building of three new docks at Portsmouth--one dry and two wet ones.
On the 16th they resolved that the army, in compliance with William's
recommendation, should be raised to 46,924 men; and on the 4th of
January, 1692, they voted £2,100,000 for the maintenance of the army,
of which Ireland was to pay £165,000.

But though a large majority in both Houses supported warmly the
endeavour to curb the inordinate ambition of Louis XIV., these sums
were not passed by the Commons without searching inquiries into
the accounts and into the abuses which, notwithstanding William's
vigilance, abounded in all departments of Government. No doubt the
party in opposition, as is generally the case, did much of this work
of reform more to gratify their private resentment, and to make their
rivals' term of office anything but agreeable, than from genuine
patriotism; but, at the same time, there was plenty of ground for their
complaints. Serious charges were made against Admiral Russell for
his lukewarm conduct at sea, and his mismanagement of the Admiralty.
The fact was that Russell, as was strongly suspected, and as we now
know from documents since come to light, was no less a traitor than
Torrington, Dartmouth, and Marlborough. He was in active correspondence
with James, and ready, if some turn in affairs should serve to make it
advantageous, to go over to him with the fleet, or as much of it as
would follow him, and others of the admirals; for Delaval, Killigrew,
and other admirals and naval officers, were as deep in the treason.

There were loud complaints of the vileness of the commissariat still,
and it was declared that far more of our men fell by disease from bad
and adulterated food than in battle. The complaints against Russell,
who was called to the bar of the House, he threw upon the Admiralty,
and the Admiralty on the commissariat department. Russell complained
also of the ministry, and particularly of the Earl of Nottingham; and
thus, by this system of mutual recrimination, all parties contrived to
escape. The Commons, however, were not so to be silenced. They charged
on the officers of the army, on its commissariat, on the men in office,
and on the Government officials almost universally, the same monstrous
system of corruption, peculation, and negligence of every thing but
making money for themselves. They insisted on a rigorous examination of
all the accounts by their own members, and they voted that all salaries
and profits arising from any place or places under the Crown should not
amount to more than five hundred pounds for any one person, except in
the cases of the Speaker of the House of Commons, the Commissioners of
the Great Seal, the judges, ambassadors, and officers of the army and
navy.

[Illustration: GEORGE SAVILLE, MARQUIS OF HALIFAX.]

There were plenty of posts in which this restriction would have been
most salutary, for men in some of the most trivial and useless of
them were pocketing many thousands of pounds; but it was soon found
that the whole nation could not furnish sufficient people patriotic
enough to serve their country for five hundred pounds a year each; and,
therefore, in a few weeks a fresh resolution was taken, which negatived
this.

The business of the year 1691 closed by the passing of a Bill to
exclude all Catholics, in pursuance of the Treaty of Limerick, from
holding any office in Ireland, civil, military, or ecclesiastical, or
from practising in any profession, or sitting in the Irish Parliament,
before they had taken the Oath of Allegiance. The Commons attempted by
this Bill to make it necessary for a Catholic to take also the Oath
of Supremacy, and the Oath against Transubstantiation; but the Lords
showed that this was contrary to the first article of the Treaty of
Limerick, and this clause was struck out, and the Bill then passed.
When the agitation for Catholic emancipation commenced, loud complaints
were made that by this Bill the Treaty of Limerick had been violated.
But this was a mistake; the violation of it took place some years
afterwards by another Bill. The first article of the Treaty provided
that on a Catholic taking the Oath of Allegiance, he should be admitted
to all the privileges specified, according to the law in Charles II.'s
time; and this law, whether always enforced or not, empowered the Crown
to tender this Oath to all subjects.

The year 1692 was opened by Parliament bringing forward several
important Bills, which were, however, too much contested to be carried
this year. The first of these was a Bill for regulating the trade
of the East India Company, increasing the number of shareholders,
restricting the amount of stock in the hands of individuals, and
incorporating a new Company which had sprung up with the old one.
The East India Company had become a most flourishing concern. From
the Restoration to this time, only thirty-three years, its annual
imports had risen in value from eight thousand pounds to three hundred
thousand pounds. Its capital amounted only to three hundred and seventy
thousand pounds, but it yielded an annual profit of thirty per cent.,
besides having, up to 1676, doubled the value of the whole capital. The
Company, however, instead of increasing in shareholders, was rapidly
sinking into a monopoly of a few individuals. Amongst these Sir Josiah
Child, whom we lately quoted in our review of the commerce of the
period, stood chief, and was become, as it were, the king and despot of
the whole concern. Five members were said to possess or hold one-sixth
of all the votes, and amongst these Child had the predominant amount.
His income from the Company was stated at twenty thousand pounds a
year, and his word was law in it.

These enormous profits naturally called forth a rival company, and the
contest between them grew from year to year till it came to occupy
and divide the spirit of the whole mercantile world. The new Company
insisted on the right of trading also to many parts of India, the old
one stood on their charter as a charter of exclusion of all others. The
favour of Government was purchased by the old Company by well-applied
gifts of money to Government, and by sharing with Government the
profitable patronage. The question was now brought before Parliament,
and hotly debated; but the Bill was dropped for the present, and a
proposition to William to grant a charter to the new Company was
evaded, on the plea of requiring deep consideration.

The next important Bill was for regulating trials in cases of high
treason. It was time that great reforms should take place on this head.
During the Stuart times men had been most easily and conveniently
put out of the way, by counsel being refused them under charge of
high treason, and by refusal to allow them the perusal of the Bill of
Indictment previous to the trial. Juries were packed by sheriffs, and
State prisoners were thus murdered at will. The same gross injustice
extended to prisoners charged with other offences; but the great strain
towards injustice was in the case of those charged by the State with
treason, and against whom it employed the ablest lawyers of the realm.
By this machinery, all through the reigns of the Stuarts, as well as of
their predecessors, whole throngs of men, many of them of extraordinary
endowments and high rank, had been judicially destroyed. The proposed
Bill, therefore, provided that every person charged with high treason
should be allowed to have his own counsel, to have a copy of the
indictment delivered to him ten days before the trial, along with a
list of the freeholders from whom his jury were to be selected, that
he might have opportunity to challenge any of them. The Bill was most
desirable, but it was frustrated for the time by the Lords insisting on
an extension of their own privileges regarding such trials. Instead of
being tried by the court of the Lord High Steward--who could summon
twelve or more peers at his discretion if the Parliament was not
sitting--they demanded that, during the recess, as during the Session,
every peer should be summoned to attend any such trial. The Commons
somewhat unreasonably opposed this very proper reform, on the ground
that the peers had too many privileges already, and the Bill dropped
for the time.

Besides these the Commons sent up various other bills, which were
nearly all rejected by the Lords. There was a Bill for reducing the
rate of interest on money; a Bill investing in the king the forfeited
estates in both England and Ireland as a fund for the war; a Bill to
proportion the pay in the army to the real complement of men; for
there was a practice, in which Marlborough was especially engaged, of
returning regiments as complete which were far from being so, and of
pocketing the pay of the men wanting. There was a Bill to continue
the commissioners of public accounts, most unreasonably rejected by
the Lords, whilst they allowed to pass a Bill which has always been
regarded with hostility in England--a poll tax, levying on all persons,
except servants, children, and paupers, a shilling a quarter; on every
peer of Parliament, ten pounds a year; on every income of three hundred
pounds a year, ten shillings per annum; and on all gentlemen of three
hundred pounds a year income from real property, and on all clergymen
or teachers with incomes of eighty pounds, one pound each a year.

On the 29th of February William prorogued Parliament, and made active
preparations for his departure for the Continent. Before he took his
leave, however, he made various changes in his Cabinet and Ministry,
which showed that the Whigs were still losing ground with him, and the
Tories, or the "Trimmers," who veered, according to circumstances,
to one party or the other, acquiring favour. The Earl of Rochester,
younger brother of Lord Clarendon, one of Mary's uncles; Lord Ranelagh,
Lord Cornwallis, and Sir Edward Seymour, who had all along hitherto
opposed the king, were made members of the Privy Council, and the Earl
of Pembroke Privy Seal. Charles Montague was made a Commissioner of the
Treasury, and Sidney Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. But the circumstance
which occasioned the greatest sensation, and wonder, and mystery was
the sudden dismissal of Lord Marlborough from all his offices under
the king, both in the Court and the army. As Marlborough had been
manifestly rising in William's estimation from the successful display
of his military talents, this abrupt dismissal excited the keenest
curiosity of both Court and country, which William took no means to
gratify. But from what we now know of the causes of this striking
expression of William's displeasure, we can well understand that there
was more in it than William could, without implicating the Princess
Anne, make known.

We have seen that Marlborough all along, whilst courting the favour
of William, was endeavouring to recover that of James. He had been
one of the very first to abandon that monarch when trusted by him,
but he had written letters expressing the bitterest repentance and
remorse for that treason, whilst he was thus prepared, if necessary,
to perpetrate a new one. But Marlborough, as he had a genius capable
of the very highest achievements, had one also capable of the most
complicated treacheries in politics. It was not enough for him to be
serving William and vowing secretly to James that he was only watching
his opportunity to serve him, but he had a third and more alluring
treason. He and his wife had the ductile and yet obstinate princess
Anne completely in their hands. They lived with her at Whitehall, they
drew largely from her income, they selected her friends, they moulded
her likings and her antipathies; she was a complete puppet in their
keeping. From his lucrative station as keeper of Anne's purse, person,
and conscience, through his clever and unprincipled wife, Marlborough
watched intently the temper of the nation. He saw that there was an
intense jealousy of the Dutch, not only amongst the people on account
of trade and national rivalry, but in the Parliament and aristocracy,
on account of William's preference for his Dutch friends. Bentinck,
Ginkell, Overkirk, and Zulestein were the only men in whom he reposed
entire confidence. On them he heaped wealth, estates, and honours.
Ginkell was just now elevated to an earldom, and a large grant of
lands was contemplated for him in Ireland. On Portland rich grants had
been bestowed, and more were anticipated. William's continual absences
on the Continent, his cold reserve whilst in England, the large
expenditure of men and money for the prosecution of the Continental
war, though really for the liberties of Europe, were represented
by the discontented as a wholesale draft upon the country for the
aggrandisement of Holland.

These were the things Marlborough saw which gave vitality to the
intrigues of the Jacobites; and the only causes which prevented the
revulsion from becoming general in favour of James were his incurable
despotism, his imbecility as a monarch, and the certain return of
Popery in his train. But there was another person to whom none of
these objections applied--the Princess Anne--the person already in
his guidance or power. Anne was at once English and a Protestant. The
former fact gave her a mighty advantage over William--the latter over
James. Would it not, therefore, be possible to substitute Anne for
her father? To do this it was only necessary to inflame the prejudice
in Parliament and among the people against the Dutch influence, to
inoculate the army with the same feeling, already well-disposed to it
by jealousy of the Dutch troops, and to obviate the objections of those
who repelled the idea of bringing back James by turning their attention
on one nearer home. The absence of William on the Continent, and the
disaffection of most of the admirals, would afford an opportunity
of resisting his return to both army and navy. And with Anne queen,
Marlborough would become the pillar of her throne, commander of her
army, and dispenser of her patronage.

That this was no mere dream is clear enough now. It was, indeed, one of
the various rumours of the time. Evelyn says that it was one of these
that Marlborough "was endeavouring to breed division in the army, and
to make himself the more necessary by making an ill correspondence
betwixt the princess and the Court." But James himself as plainly
asserts the fact of this charge against Marlborough. "It was the plan,"
he says, "of my friends to recall me through the Parliament. My Lord
Churchill was to propose in Parliament to drive away all the foreigners
from the councils and the army of the kingdom. If the Prince of Orange
consented to this, he would have been in their hands. If he refused,
Parliament would have declared against him, and Lord Churchill was,
at the same time, to cause the army to declare for the Parliament,
the fleet the same, and then to recall me. Already this plan was
in agitation, and a large party was already gained over, when some
faithful but indiscreet subjects, thinking to serve me, and imagining
that Lord Churchill was not acting for me, but really for the Princess
of Denmark, discovered all to Bentinck, and thus destroyed the whole
scheme."

The proof that William was satisfied that Marlborough's grand plan
was real, was that he at once dismissed him from all his employments.
That Marlborough had long intrigued with James, William was quite
aware, but on that account he never troubled him; this, however, was
by far a more dangerous treachery, and he resented it accordingly.
The Marlboroughs, notwithstanding, continued at Whitehall with Anne,
and might probably never have been molested, had not the imperious
Lady Marlborough in her anger determined to set the king and queen at
defiance. She, therefore, had the assurance to accompany the princess
to the Drawing-Room at Kensington Palace a few evenings after, and the
next day brought an expostulatory letter from the queen to her sister,
informing her that after such an outrage Lady Marlborough must quit
Whitehall. Anne sent to entreat Mary to pass the matter over, declaring
that there was no misery that she would not suffer rather than be
deprived of Lady Marlborough. The only answer was an order from the
Lord Chamberlain, commanding her ladyship to quit the palace. Anne,
determined not to lose the society of her favourite, left Whitehall
with the Marlboroughs, and betook herself to Sion House, which was lent
to her by the Duke of Somerset, and soon after she removed to Berkeley
House, standing on the present site of Devonshire House, in Piccadilly,
which became her permanent residence. There all the Marlborough faction
assembled, and there Anne vented her indignation without restraint or
delicacy against William, calling him a "Dutch abortion," a "monster,"
a "Caliban." A fresh stimulus was given to the malice of that clique;
every means was used to excite hatred of the Government of William, and
to increase the partisans of James. With such a termagant spirit as
Lady Marlborough, and such a plotting spirit as that of her husband, a
strong feeling was excited against the queen, who was represented as
totally without heart, as having usurped the throne of her father, and
sought to strip her sister of her most valued friendships. Amidst such
an atmosphere of malice and detraction William was compelled to leave
the queen.

[Illustration: LADY MARLBOROUGH AND THE PRINCESS ANNE AT THE QUEEN'S
DRAWING-ROOM. (_See p._ 452.)]

He embarked for Holland on the 5th of March. He left the country amid
the rumours of false plots and real schemes of invasion. One Fuller,
under the tuition of the notorious Titus Oates, had been accusing
no less than fifty lords and gentlemen, including Halifax and some
of the king's own ministers, of having pledged themselves to bring
in James. However true it might be that many of these were at heart
really ready for such a change, it was clearly shown that Fuller's
story was got up merely to make money by it, and it was treated with
contempt. The rumour of an invasion was, as we shall find, more real.
Disbelieving it, or pressed by the necessity of giving a blow to
Louis in Flanders, William made a speedy journey to the Hague. There
the difficulties which he had to overcome were such as would have sunk
the courage of any less firm-hearted man. But though William managed
to just hold his stupid and selfish Allies together--too stupid and
selfish to perceive their own real interests--he found it impossible
to get them into the field. Whilst they were moving like tortoises,
each afraid to be before his neighbour, each taking leave to delay
because his neighbour delayed, Louis rushed into the arena with his
wonted alertness. On the 20th of May he was in his camp at Flanders. He
made a grand review of his troops in the neighbourhood of Mons. There
a hundred and twenty thousand men were drawn up in a line eight miles
long. Such a circumstance was well calculated to spread a deadening
report amongst the Allies of the crushing vastness of his army. He was
attended by a splendid retinue of nearly all the princes and rulers of
France; there was the Duke de Chartres, in his fifteenth year only; the
Dukes of Bourbon and Vendôme; the Prince of Conti; and whole troops of
young nobles following them as volunteers. Louis appeared in the midst
of them with all the splendour and luxury of an Eastern emperor.

From the imposing review Louis bore down directly on Namur. Namur stood
strongly at the confluence of the Meuse and the Sambre. It was strong
by nature on the sides next the rivers, and made so by art on the land
side. The Baron de Cohorn, an engineer who rivalled Vauban, was always
in William's army to advise and throw up fortifications. Cohorn had
made it one of the most considerable fortresses on the Continent, and
he now lay in the city with a garrison of nine thousand men, under
the Prince de Brabazon. All the other fortresses--Mons, Valenciennes,
Cambray, Antwerp, Ostend, Ypres, Lille, Tournay, Luxemburg, and others,
had yielded to the Grand Monarque; Namur alone had resisted every
attempt upon it. And now Louis invested it with his whole force. Louis
himself laid siege to the place with forty thousand men, and posted
Luxemburg with eighty thousand more on the road between Namur and
Brussels. Brabazon calculated on the army of William effecting the
relief of the place, and Louis resolved to make his approach impossible.

William, joined by the forces of Brandenburg and Liége, and with his
army swelled to a hundred thousand men, advanced to the Mehaigne,
within cannon-shot of Luxemburg's camp, but there he found himself
stopped. Luxemburg's army lay on the other bank of the river, and
was so strongly posted, and watched so vigilantly every movement of
William, that he saw no means of forcing a way towards the beleaguered
city. Whilst thus impeded by the river and the vast force of Luxemburg,
Nature came to complete the chafing king's mortifications. Heavy
rains set in on St. Medard's Day, the 8th of June, the French St.
Swithin. The rivers burst their banks, and the whole country lay under
water. If William had had the means to cross the river, the drenching
torrents and the muddy soil would have rendered all military operations
impossible. Louis with difficulty kept his men to their posts in the
siege. Still the assault was pushed on. Cohorn, the engineer, was
disabled by a severe wound whilst defending a fort on which he greatly
prided himself; and from that hour the defence languished. Brabazon was
a man of no spirit; Cohorn's fort was taken, and the town surrendered
on the 20th of June.

The exultation of Louis and the French on the fall of Namur was
unbounded. This triumph had been won in the very presence of William
and the Allies at the head of a hundred thousand men. He ordered medals
to be struck to commemorate this success, which his flatterers, and
amongst them Boileau himself, declared was more glorious than the
mastery of Troy by the Greeks. _Te Deum_ was sung in Paris; the French
nation was in ecstasies, and Louis returned to Versailles to enjoy the
incense of his elated courtiers and mistresses. But he did not return
without a sting to his triumph. The news of a signal defeat of his
fleet at La Hogue reached him even as he lay before Namur, and the
thunder of William's artillery at the great intelligence wounded his
vanity though it could not reach his army.

Louis having quitted the Netherlands, Luxemburg strongly garrisoned
Namur, despatched the Marquis of Boufflers to La Bassière, and
himself encamped at Soignies. William posted himself at Genappe, sent
detachments to Ghent and Liége, and determined to attack Luxemburg.
This general shifted his ground to a position between Steinkirk and
Enghien, and William then encamped at Lambeque. Here he discovered that
all his movements had been previously betrayed to Luxemburg by the
private secretary of the Elector of Bavaria, one Millevoix, a letter
of whose to the French general had been picked up by a peasant, and
brought to the camp. William seized on the circumstance to mislead
Luxemburg. The detected spy was compelled to write a letter to the
French general, informing him that the next day William was intending
to send out a foraging party, and, to prevent it from being surprised,
would draw out a large body of troops to protect it. The letter being
despatched to the French camp, William took immediate measures for the
engagement. His object was to surprise the camp of Luxemburg, and the
story of the foraging party was to prevent his alarm on the approach of
the troops. He sent his heavy baggage across the Seine, and by four in
the morning his troops were on the march towards Luxemburg's position.
The Duke of Würtemberg led the van with ten battalions of English,
Dutch, and Danish infantry, supported by a large body of horse and foot
under the command of General Mackay, and Count Solmes followed with the
reserve.

William's forces reached the outposts of Luxemburg's army about
two o'clock in the afternoon, and drove them in with a sudden and
unlooked-for onset. A regiment from the Bourbonnais was put to instant
flight, and William, who had been informed that he should have to march
through a country of hedges, ditches, and narrow lanes, but that,
on approaching Luxemburg's army, he would find it open plain, now
calculated that he had nothing to do but to dash into the surprised
camp and produce universal confusion. He had indeed had to pick his way
through hedges and ditches, but now, instead of the open plain, there
lay still a network of hedges and ditches between him and the enemy.
This caused so much delay, that the enemy soon became aware of the real
fact, that William was upon them with his whole army. There was an
instant hurrying to standards, and William found himself face to face
with a body sufficient to dispute the ground with him till the whole
was in order.

Luxemburg had been deceived by the forced letter of Millevoix. He
had relied on it as being as correct as usual; and, though scout
after scout brought intelligence of the English approaching, he
deemed it only the foraging party and their supporters, and sat
coolly at cards till it was nearly too late. Then he mounted his
horse, reconnoitred the enemy, threw forward the Swiss regiments and
the far-famed Household Troops of Louis, and encouraged his men to
fight with their usual bravery. The young princes put themselves at
the head of the Household Troops, and displayed an enthusiasm which
communicated itself to the whole line. They found as vigorous opponents
in the Duke of Würtemberg and the gallant and pious Mackay. The
conflict was maintained at the muzzles of the muskets, and Luxemburg
afterwards declared that he never saw so fierce a struggle. The Duke
of Würtemberg had already seized one of the enemy's batteries, and
penetrated within their entrenchments, but the immense weight of troops
that kept pouring on against them at length bore them back. Mackay
sent messenger after messenger to bid Solmes hasten up his reserve,
but, from cowardice or treachery, Solmes would not move. He said
coolly, "Let us see what sport these English bulldogs will make." At
length William sent an express order for him to move up; whereupon he
trotted his horse forward a little, but never advanced his infantry.
When, therefore, Mackay saw that his soldiers were being hewed down
by hundreds, and no succour came, he said, "God's will be done," and
fought on till he fell. The contest was not, however, decided till the
detachment of Boufflers appeared upon the field. Luxemburg sent off an
express to hasten him to his assistance; but Boufflers, unlike Solmes,
had not waited for that--he had heard the firing, and was already on
the way. Then William was compelled to order his troops to draw off;
and this retreat he managed with his accustomed skill. He was, however,
roused out of his usual stoicism by the infamous conduct of Solmes;
and the whole army declared that they would not have been repulsed but
for his base desertion of them. The French claimed the victory, though
William retired to his camp in good order, and both armies continued
to occupy their former position. The fame of William as a general in
the field was greatly injured. He was acknowledged to be admirable at
a retreat; but it was said that a first-rate general seldom practised
that portion of the art of war. But his enemies, by their very joy at
this rebuff, acknowledged their sense of his power.

After this nothing of consequence distinguished the campaign in the
Netherlands. On the 26th of September William left the army under
command of the Elector of Bavaria, and retired to his hunting seat at
Loo. The camp was broken up, and the infantry marched to Marienkirke,
and the horse to Caure. But hearing that Boufflers had invested
Charleroi and Luxemburg, he sent troops under the Elector of Bavaria to
raise the siege of those towns. Boufflers retired, and then the Elector
distributed his troops into winter quarters; and Luxemburg on his side
left the army under Boufflers, and went to Paris.

Besides this there had been an attempt on the part of England to
besiege Dunkirk. The Duke of Leinster was sent over with troops,
which were joined by others from William's camp; but they thought
the attempt too hazardous, and returned, having done nothing. William
quitted Holland, and on the 18th of October arrived in England. The
result of this expensive campaign, where such unexampled preparations
had been followed only by defeat and the loss of five thousand men,
excited deep dissatisfaction; and the abortive attempt to recover
Dunkirk increased it. The public complained that William had lain
inactive at Grammont whilst Louis took Namur, and that if he could not
cross the Scheldt in the face of the French army, he might have crossed
it higher up, and taken Louis in the flank; that he might, instead of
lying inert to witness his enemy's triumph, have boldly marched into
France and laid waste Louis's own territories, which would have quickly
drawn him away from Namur. Such, indeed, might have been the decisive
movements of a great military genius, but there is no reason to think
that William was such a genius. His most striking qualities were dogged
perseverance and insensibility to defeat.

During William's absence, a variety of circumstances had taken place
which threw a dark shade upon his fame, which threatened almost to
shake his throne, and which gratified the naval pride of the country.

The horrible event which had occurred in Scotland, still properly
styled the Massacre of Glencoe, had just become known to the English
as William left for the Continental campaign, and threw no little
odium upon him. The dissatisfaction which William felt at his Bill of
Toleration for Scotland having been refused by the Scottish Parliament,
induced him to remove Lord Melville, who had suffered the liberal views
of the king to be swamped by the Presbyterians, as William thought,
too easily. He therefore appointed Sir James Dalrymple, whom he had
created Viscount Stair, Lord President of the Court of Session; and his
son, Sir John--called then, according to the custom of Scotland, the
Master of Stair--as Lord Advocate, took the lead in the management of
Scottish affairs. One of the matters which came under his notice was
that of the settling of the Highlands; and it was resolved by William's
Cabinet, where Lord Stair and the Earl of Argyll were consulted as the
great authorities on Scottish measures, that twelve thousand pounds
should be distributed amongst the Highland chiefs, to secure their
goodwill. Unfortunately, the agent that was chosen for the distribution
of this money was one of the hated tribe of Campbell. It was the Earl
of Breadalbane, who had deadly feuds with some of the clans; and, as
they regarded him with aversion and suspicion, the most insurmountable
obstacles arose to any reasonable arrangement. Besides that every chief
wanted more money than Breadalbane thought he ought to have, the Earl
of Argyll contended that these chiefs owed him large sums, and that
their quotas should be paid over to him in liquidation of those debts.
To this the chiefs would not consent, and when the money was not paid
over, they loudly avowed their conviction that Breadalbane meant to
appropriate it to himself.

Amongst the chiefs, Macdonald of Glencoe was especially obnoxious
to Breadalbane. Glencoe is a peculiarly wild and gloomy glen in
Argyllshire. The English meaning of the word is "the glen of weeping,"
a name singularly appropriate from its being frequently enveloped in
dense mists and drizzling rains. It was too barren and rugged for
agriculture, and, accordingly, its little section of the clan Donald
were noted for their predatory habits, common, indeed, to all the
Highlanders, and deemed as actually honourable. They had committed
frequent raids on the lands of Breadalbane, and therefore, when the
old chief presented himself amongst the other chiefs at the castle
of Breadalbane, he was rudely insulted, and was called upon to make
reparation for his damages done to the Campbells. Macdonald--or, as he
was commonly styled, Mac Ian--was glad to get away in safety. Incensed
at his treatment, he exerted all his arts and influence amongst the
other chiefs to embarrass and frustrate the attempts of Breadalbane
towards a settlement.

Whilst these things were in agitation, the English Government issued a
proclamation, that every rebel who did not come in and take the oaths
to William and Mary before the 1st of January, 1692, should be held to
be a traitor, and treated accordingly. Notwithstanding considerable
delay, all the chiefs took care to come in before the appointed day
except Mac Ian. In his stubborn rage against Breadalbane he deferred
his submission to the last moment. On the 31st of December, however,
he presented himself at Fort William to take the oaths; but Colonel
Hill, the Governor, refused to administer the oaths, on the plea that
he was not a magistrate, and told Mac Ian that it was necessary that
he should go to Inverary and swear before the sheriff. The old chief
was confounded; this was the last day of grace, and it was impossible
to reach Inverary in the depth of winter in time. Hill, however, gave
him a letter to the sheriff expressing a hope that, as Mac Ian had
presented himself in time to take the oaths, though under an error as
to the authority, he would allow him to take them. Mac Ian did not
reach Inverary till the 6th of January, and the sheriff, after much
entreaty and many tears from the old chief, consented to administer the
oaths, and dispatch information of the circumstances to the Council in
Edinburgh.

[Illustration: GLENCOE: SCENE OF THE MASSACRE. (_From a Photograph by
G. W. Wilson and Co., Aberdeen._)]

The news did not reach Breadalbane and Argyll in Edinburgh, but in
London, whither they had gone to represent the state of these affairs;
and both they and the Master of Stair, who was there too, instead of
being glad that all the chiefs had come in, were exceedingly rejoiced
that Mac Ian had not submitted till after the prescribed time. They
agreed to suppress the fact that Mac Ian had come in, though after the
date, and only laid before William's Council the circumstance that
he had not come in at the expiry of the limited time. A proposal was
therefore made by them that this "nest of robbers," as they termed the
people of Glencoe, should be utterly routed out, without which, they
declared, there could be no peace in the Highlands. William therefore
signed a warrant laid before him for that purpose, putting his
signature both at top and bottom.

With this fatal instrument in their hands, these worthless men
instantly took measures to wreak their vengeance on this little horde
of people, and to root them completely out. An order was sent to
Governor Hill to dispatch a sufficient force to Glencoe to kill every
man, woman, and child in it. Whether Hill was deemed too humane or too
dignified for the office of wholesale butcher, does not appear; but
he was directed to send Lieutenant-Colonel Hamilton on the errand.
Hamilton, however, to make all sure by studying the place, sent, on the
1st of February, a Captain Campbell--better known as Glenlyon, from
the place of his residence. Glenlyon took with him one hundred and
twenty men, part of a regiment of Campbells, and marched to Glencoe;
and then appeared the full diabolism of the scheme of Mr. Secretary
Stair and his associates, Argyll and Breadalbane. He was not to fall
on the Macdonalds and put them to the sword as open and proscribed
enemies, but to secure the completion of the barbarous design by a plan
of the most revolting treachery on record. He was to profess to come
as a friend, only to seek temporary quarters on his wintry march, and
especially to visit a niece of his married to one of the sons of Mac
Ian. He was to feign friendship, to live with the poor people some time
in familiarity till all suspicion was laid to rest, and then to murder
them in cold blood.

Accordingly, when this band of soldiers was seen approaching, a son of
the chief and some of the people went out to learn the cause of the
visit. The reply was, "All in friendship, and only to seek quarters."
The traitors were welcomed, and lodged amongst the different families.
Glenlyon and some of his men were accommodated by a man called
Inverriggen; Lindsay, the lieutenant, accepted the hospitality of old
Mac Ian; and a sergeant named Barbour was received by a leading man
called Auchintriater. For nearly a fortnight this air of friendship
was kept up. Glenlyon professed much attachment to his niece and
her husband. He and Lindsay played at cards with the chief and his
sons, and all went gaily, as far as whisky, and French brandy, and
blithe spirits on the part of the hosts, could make it so. But all
this time Glenlyon was studying how the more completely to secure the
destruction of every soul in the glen. He and his men noted carefully
every outlet, and the result of the observations was sent to Hamilton.
All being considered ready, Hamilton fixed the 13th of February for
the slaughter, and appointed to be there before five o'clock in the
morning, and to stop all the earths to which the "old fox and his
cubs," as he termed Mac Ian and his sons, could flee. That night, as
he was marching with four hundred men through the snows to do this
butcherly deed, Glenlyon was spending the evening with Mac Ian, and
engaged to dine the next day with "his murdered man."

But with all the Judas-like deceit with which he carried on his hellish
design, that evening two men were heard lamenting they had something
to do that they did not relish. A suspicion was awakened, and one of
the sons of Mac Ian went at midnight to Glenlyon's lodgings to see if
he could discover anything. In confirmation of his worst suspicions
he found him and his men all up and armed. Yet he suffered himself to
be persuaded by the villain that they were called to a sudden march
to chastise some of the Glengarry clan for marauding; and the young
man returned home and went to bed. Glenlyon had said, "Do you think I
would do anything against my own niece and her husband?"

At five in the morning, though Hamilton had not arrived, the
bloodthirsty Glenlyon commenced the massacre by murdering his host and
all his family. Lindsay did the same by his host, old Mac Ian and his
family; and Barbour shot down his host and family in the same manner.
Then the soldiers at every hut imitated their example, and speedily
there was a hewing and shooting down of victims flying from the huts to
the defiles for escape. Men, women, children, pleading most piteously,
were ruthlessly murdered. But, fortunately, the sound of the fire-arms
aroused the whole glen at once, and the rush of the affrighted people
was too simultaneous to allow of their being killed. The greater part
of them escaped in the darkness to the hills, for Hamilton had not
arrived to blockade the defiles. The sanguinary haste of Glenlyon had
saved the majority. The two sons of Mac Ian were amongst the number
who escaped. Above thirty people, however, were massacred, and an old
man of seventy, unable to fly, was brutally stabbed. But those who had
escaped the sword and musket only escaped to the snow-covered rocks to
perish, many of them of cold and famine, for the wretches set fire to
everything in the valley, and left it one black and hideous desert.

When the news of this terrible affair at length spread, the public
could scarcely believe that so demoniacal a deed could have been
done in a Christian country. The Jacobites did not fail to dilate
on its infamy with emphasis. The whole frightful particulars were
gleaned up industriously by the non-jurors from the soldiers of the
regiment, which happened the next summer to be quartered in England.
All the execration due to such a deed was liberally showered on the
courtiers, on the actors of the brutal butchery, and on the king who
had sanctioned it. Terror, if not conscience seized on the chief
movers in it. Breadalbane sent his steward to Glencoe, to induce the
miserable inhabitants who had returned to their burnt-up valley to sign
a paper asserting that they did not charge him with any participation
in the crime, promising in return to use his influence with the king
to obtain a full pardon and immunity from forfeiture for them all.
Glenlyon was shunned as a monster wherever he appeared; but Stair, so
far from showing any shame or remorse, seemed to glory in the deed. As
for William, there was a zealous attempt to make it appear that he did
not know of what had been done; and when his warrant was produced,
then that he was deceived as to the circumstances of the case.
Unfortunately for William's reputation there was a searching inquiry
into the facts of the affair, and when he did know these in all their
atrocity, he failed to punish the perpetrators. Stair was for the time
dismissed, but very soon restored to William's service; and after this
all attempts would be futile to absolve him from gross want of feeling
and of justice in the case. It is a black spot on his fame, and must
remain so. Burnet, who is always anxious to defend William, says that,
from the letters and documents produced which he himself read, so many
persons were concerned in the business that "the king's gentleness
prevailed to a fault," and so he did not proceed against them--a
singular kind of gentleness! At the very least, the blood-guiltiness of
Breadalbane, Stair, and Glenlyon, was so prominent, and they were so
few, that they ought to have been made examples of; and such a mark of
the sense of the atrocity of the crime would have wiped from William's
reputation the clinging stain.

Scarcely had William left England in the spring, when the country was
menaced by an invasion; and whilst he was contending with Luxemburg in
Flanders, the queen and her ministers had been as actively contending
with real and imaginary plots, and with the French fleet at La Hogue.
The Papists of Lancashire had for some time been particularly active in
encouraging in King James the idea that he would be welcomed again in
England by his subjects. One Lant, a carpenter, had been despatched to
St. Germains, and brought back assurances that his Majesty would, in
the course of the spring, certainly land in England. He also sent over
Colonel Parker, one of the parties engaged to assassinate William, to
concert the necessary measures with the Catholics and Jacobites for the
invasion. Parker assured them that James would embark at La Hogue with
thirty thousand men. Johnson, a priest, was said to be associated with
Parker to murder William before his departure if possible; but the king
had gone already when they arrived.

The great minister of Louis, Louvois, was dead. He had always opposed
these ideas of invasion of England as absurd and impracticable. His
removal enabled James to persuade Louis to attempt the enterprise. It
was determined to muster a fleet of eighty sail. The Count de Tourville
commanded five-and-forty of them, and under him the Count D'Estrées
thirty-five more. The most active preparations were making for the
completion of all things necessary for the equipment of this fleet,
and the army which it was to carry over. The ships under Tourville lay
at Brest, those of D'Estrées at Toulon; they were to meet at Ushant,
and take on board the army at La Hogue. James was in high spirits; he
was puffed up by the invitations which the Catholic emissaries had
brought him; he had, he believed, firmly won over the admirals of the
fleet, Russell, Carter, Delaval, and Killigrew. Whilst in this elation
of mind he sent over invitations to many Protestant ladies of quality
to attend the expected _accouchement_ of his queen. He said many base
aspersions had been cast on the birth of his son, and he desired now
to prevent a recurrence of such slanders; he therefore offered to all
the distinguished persons invited safe conducts both for going and
returning from the French monarch. No one accepted the invitation; and
a daughter was born to James about whom no one in England was very much
concerned.

But the preparations of James and Louis occasioned similar preparations
in England. The militia was called out; London was strongly guarded by
troops; the train-bands of the southern counties appeared in arms on
the coasts; the beacons were all vigilantly watched, and the fleet was
manned and equipped with all possible speed and strength.

The invitation of James to the birth of his daughter was speedily
followed by a proclamation to his subjects in England. James had always
done himself more harm by his Declarations than all the efforts of
his friends and allies could do him good; and this was precisely of
that character. He expressed no regret for any of his past actions or
measures; he betrayed no suspicion, even, that he might have governed
more wisely. On the contrary, he represented himself as having always
been right, good, and gracious, and his subjects wrong, captious,
and unreasonable. He had always meant and done well, but he had been
shamefully maligned. He now promised to maintain the Church indeed;
but people had had too recent a proof of how he had maintained it in
Ireland. He meant to pardon many of his enemies; but, at the same time,
added such a list of proscriptions as made it look more like a massacre
than an amnesty. Amongst those excepted from all pardon were the Duke
of Ormond, the Marquis of Winchester, the Earls of Sunderland, Danby,
and Nottingham, the Lords Delamere, Wiltshire, Colchester, Cornbury,
and Dunblane; the Bishop of St. Asaph; Drs. Tillotson and Burnet. He
excepted even the poor fishermen who at Faversham had mistaken him
for a Jesuit priest on his flight, and called him "hatchet-face." All
judges, magistrates, sheriffs, jurymen, gaolers, turnkeys, constables,
and every one who had acted under William in securing and condemning
any Jacobite; all justices and other authorities who should not
immediately on his landing abandon the Government and support him;
and all gaolers who should not at once set at liberty all prisoners
confined for any conspiracy in favour of James, or for any political
deed on that side, all were alike condemned. In short, such was the
Draconian rigour with which the Declaration was drawn that there was
hardly a man who was not a downright Jacobite who did not tremble at
the belief that it might include him.

The queen and her ministers no sooner read the Declaration than they
saw the whole effect of it. They had it printed and circulated all over
the kingdom, with a clever running commentary. Parliament was summoned
for the 24th of May, and a number of persons, charged with being
concerned in a plot for bringing in James, were arrested, and others
absconded. Amongst those seized were Marlborough and Lord Huntingdon,
who were sent to the Tower; Mr. Ridley, Mr. Knevitt, Mr. Hastings,
and Mr. Ferguson, were sent to Newgate; the Bishop of Rochester was
confined to his own house; the Lords Brudenel and Fanshawe, the Earls
of Dunmore and Middleton, and Sir Andrew Forrester, were next secured.
The Earls of Scarsdale, Lichfield, and Newborough, the Lords Griffin,
Forbes, Sir John Fenwick, Sir Theophilus Oglethorpe, and others,
escaped. The princess Anne expected arrest.

On the 11th of May, a week after Marlborough was sent to the Tower,
Russell sailed from the Downs in quest of the French fleet. He was at
the head of ninety-nine sail of the line, the greatest force which had
ever descended the English Channel. Off Beachy Head he had met Carter
and Delaval, who had been watching the French ports, and a fine fleet
of Dutchmen were also in conjunction with him. There were between
thirty and forty thousand sailors, Dutch and English, on board, and
he was supported by the Admirals Delaval, Ashley, Cloudesley Shovel,
Carter, and Rooke. Van Almonde was in command of the Dutch squadron,
with Callemberg and Vandergoes. James meanwhile was at La Hogue with
the army, anxiously awaiting the fleet of De Tourville to carry it
over. James confidently calculated on the disaffection of the English
admirals, Russell, Delaval, Carter, and others. He sent an emissary
to remind Russell of his promises, and to promise him and the other
admirals high rewards in return. But Lloyd, the emissary, had found
Russell wonderfully changed. The fatal Declaration had produced the
same effect on him as on others. He told the man that he was desirous
to serve James, but that he must first grant a general pardon; and
besides, if he met the French fleet, though James was aboard of it, he
would never allow himself to be beaten by the French.

In London the terror of this known disaffection had been great. The
queen and her ministers consulted deeply what should be done. Should
they send and arrest the traitors? The effect, they foresaw, would be
to scatter terror through the whole fleet. They adopted a far more
politic plan. On the 15th of May, as the combined fleet lay off St.
Helens, Russell called together the officers on board his own ship,
and informed them that he had a letter from the queen to read them.
In this she stated that she had heard rumours of disaffection amongst
the officers, but would not believe it. She knew they would fight as
became Englishmen for their country. The letter had an instant and
wondrous effect. They immediately signed unanimously a declaration that
they would live and die for the Crown, the Protestant religion, and
the freedom of England. On the 18th the fleet sailed for the coast of
France, and next day the fleet of Tourville was descried. Tourville
had only forty-five ships of the line, and he had orders, if he met
the English fleet, to engage. But Louis had since learned the junction
of the Dutch with the English, and despatched messengers to warn him,
but they were intercepted. Tourville, however, notwithstanding the
preponderance of the enemy, determined to engage. He had been upbraided
after the fight at Beachy Head as timid; his blood was roused, and,
besides, he confidently believed that three-fourths of the English
fleet were secretly for James, and would at the first brush come over
to him. As he lay off Barfleur on the morning of the 19th he saw the
long line of the enemy before him, and bore down upon them for battle.

At eleven o'clock the French admiral opened fire on part of the English
fleet, the rest not being able to get up from the wind being contrary.
The spirit with which the English received him at once dissipated
Tourville's hopes of defection amongst them. The conflict continued
with uncommon fury till one o'clock, when Russell was compelled to
allow his flag-ship, the _Rising Sun_, carrying a hundred and four
guns, to be towed out of the line from the damage she had received. But
the fight continued furiously till three o'clock, when a fog parted
the enemies. Soon after, however, a wind favourable to the English
sprang up, and, at the same time, dispersed the fog. Fresh ships of
the English came up, and the conflict continued to rage till eight in
the evening. During this time Carter, who had been one of the most
deeply pledged to James, but who had fought like a lion, fell mortally
wounded, but as he was carried down to his cabin, he cried to his
men to fight the ship as long as she could swim. Tourville, who was
now contending hopelessly against numbers, drew off, but was closely
pursued, and the most terrible carnage was made of the men on board his
great ship, the _Royal Sun_, the pride of the French navy. He fought,
however, stoutly so long as the light continued; and then the whole
French fleet made all sail for the French ports.

The next morning the English gave chase, and Russell's vessel was
retarded for some time by the falling of her topmast, but soon they
were once more in full pursuit. About twenty of the French ships
escaped through the perilous Race of Alderney, between that island
and the coast of Cotentin, where the English dared not pursue them;
and these vessels, by their desperate courage, escaped to St. Malo.
Tourville had shifted his flag to the _Ambitious_, and the _Royal Sun_,
battered and drenched in blood, made its way, and, with the _Admiral_
and the _Conquerant_, managed to reach Cherbourg, whither Delaval
pursued and burnt them, with several other vessels. Tourville himself
and the rest of the fleet escaped into the harbour of La Hogue, where
they drew themselves up in shallow water, close under the guns of the
Forts De Lisset and St. Vaast.

Here they flattered themselves that they were in safety. The army
destined to invade England lay close at hand, and James, his son the
Duke of Berwick, the Marshal Bellefond, and other great officers,
were in the forts. But Sir George Rooke, by the orders of Russell,
embarked his men in all the light frigates and open boats that could
be procured, and advanced boldly upon the French men-of-war as they
lay drawn up upon the beach. Regardless of the fire from the forts and
the ships, the English rushed to the attack with loud hurrahs, proud
to beard the French under the eyes of the very army of French and
renegade Irish which dared to dream of invading England. The daring
of the deed struck such a panic into the French sailors, that they
quickly abandoned the vessels which lay under Fort Lisset. The fort
and batteries seemed paralysed by the same event, and the English set
fire to the vessels. In vain Tourville manned his boats, and attempted
to drive back the English sailors; his mariners jumped to land again.
In vain the soldiers ashore hurried down and poured in a volley on the
British seamen; they successfully burnt all the six vessels lying under
Lisset, and returned to their ships without the loss of a man.

The next morning Rooke was again afloat with the tide, and leading his
fleet of boats and his brave sailors against the vessels lying under
the Fort St. Vaast. The fort did more execution than the other fort the
day before; but all was in vain. The British sailors climbed up the
vessels; the French fled precipitately out of them, and they were all
burnt to the water's edge, except a few smaller ones, which were towed
away to the English fleet. When James saw these surprising acts he is
said to have involuntarily exclaimed, "See my brave English sailors."
But guns of the exploding vessels going off killed some of the people
standing near him, and he then, coming to a more sober reflection,
said, "Heaven fights against me," and retired. There was an end of all
hope of ever invading England, and he hastened back to St. Germains in
deep dejection.

The news of this most brilliant and most important battle, which gave
such a blow to the power and _prestige_ of Louis, was received in
London with transports of delight. England was once more safe; France
was humbled; invasion at an end. Sixteen of the finest ships of France
had been destroyed, and on the part of England only one fire-ship. The
glory was England's, for, though the Dutch had fought well, it was the
English who had borne the brunt and done the miracles of bravery at La
Hogue. The tidings were borne to William's camp at Grammont, and set
all the cannon roaring the exultation into the ears of Luxemburg and
his army.

At home there was now time to inquire into the particulars of the plot
for which Marlborough and others had been detained. Luckily for them
there was found to have been a sham conspiracy got up by one Young, a
debauched clergyman, who had been imprisoned for bigamy and for many
other crimes. Like Oates and his compeers, and the more recent Fuller,
he hoped to make money, and, therefore, had accused Marlborough, Sprat
the Bishop of Rochester, and the rest, of being in it. On examination,
the plot was found to be a mere barefaced forgery, got up by Young and
another miscreant named Blackhead. They had written an engagement to
bring in King James, and seize William, and forged to it the names of
Marlborough, Cornbury, Sancroft the ex-Primate, and Sprat, Bishop of
Rochester. This document they had contrived to hide in a flower-pot at
the bishop's house at Bromley. The bishop was arrested, but denied all
knowledge of the plot, and then Blackhead confessed. Young, however,
feigned another plot, and endeavoured to inveigle into it a poor man
of the name of Holland, who also informed the Earl of Nottingham.
Young was imprisoned and pilloried, and ministers were glad to admit
the accused to bail. For Marlborough and others this false plot was a
genuine godsend. They were deep in real treason, and this sham treason
screened their reputations just at the moment when the power of James
was being annihilated, and that of William rising in fresh vigour.

But the Government was not satisfied with the success of the battle
of La Hogue. It was too decisive to be left, they thought, in barren
glory; it ought to be followed up by a more severe blow to France. Amid
the public rejoicings, Sidney, Portland, and Rochester went down to
Portsmouth to congratulate the fleet on its success. They distributed
twenty-seven thousand pounds amongst the seamen, and gold medals were
bestowed on the officers; and, to mark the sense of the king and queen
of this great achievement of the sailors, it was announced that the
wounded should be tended at the public charge in the hospitals of
St. Thomas and St. Bartholomew; and, still more, that the palace of
Greenwich, begun by Charles II., should be finished and appropriated
for ever as the home of superannuated sailors. Thus originated this
noble institution, this home for maimed and declining mariners.

But for this honour conferred on the fleet fresh exploits were demanded
of it--that it should sail to St. Malo, bombard the town, and destroy
the remainder of Tourville's fleet, which had taken shelter there.
Accordingly, Rooke was dispatched to take soundings on the dangerous
shores of Brittany, and Russell mustered his fleet, which, having
taken on board transports of fourteen thousand troops under young
Schomberg--now Duke of Leinster--accompanied by Ruvigny--now Earl of
Galway--and his Huguenots, and the Earl of Argyll, with his regiment,
part of which had committed the melancholy massacre of Glencoe, stood
out to sea. Off Portland, however, a council of war was called, and it
was contended, by a majority of both naval and military officers, that
it was too late in the season--it was only the 28th of July--to attempt
such an enterprise amid the dangerous rocks and under the guns of the
forts and batteries of St. Malo. The fleet, therefore, returned to
St. Helens, much to the astonishment and disgust of the whole nation.
High words arose between the Earl of Nottingham, First Lord of the
Admiralty, and Russell. The Minister accused the Admiral of cowardice
and breach of duty in thus tamely giving up the enterprise against
France.

Nottingham's hands were wonderfully strengthened by the deep discontent
of the merchants, who complained that they were almost ruined by the
so-much-vaunted victory of La Hogue; that before, we had a fleet in the
Mediterranean and another out in the Channel protecting the traders;
but that now the fleet had been concentrated to fight Tourville,
and then, instead of taking up proper positions to check the French
ships of war and privateers, had contemptibly returned to port; that
the French, embittered by the defeat of La Hogue, had now sent out
their men-of-war in every direction, and, finding our merchantmen
defenceless, had committed the most awful havoc amongst them. Fifty
vessels alone, belonging to London and Bristol, had been taken by them.
More than a hundred of our trading vessels had been carried into St.
Malo, which Russell, by destroying that port, could have prevented
or avenged; while Bart, of Dunkirk, had scoured the Baltic and the
northern coasts of Britain, and Trouin had actually ascended the
Shannon, and committed frightful mischief in Clare.

Amid such expressions of discontent King William returned from Holland
to England. He landed on the 18th of October. He had had little
success in his campaign; La Hogue was the only bright spot of the
year, and the scene which now met him on his return was lowering and
depressing. There had been an earthquake in Jamaica, which, in three
minutes, had converted Port Royal, the most flourishing city of the
West Indies, into a heap of ruins, burying one thousand five hundred of
the inhabitants, and extending the calamity to the merchants of London
and Bristol. The distress in England itself was general and severe. A
rainy season had ruined the harvest, and reduced the people to a state
of extreme misery. Bread riots were frequent, and the complaints of the
excessive burthen of taxation were loud and general. Burglaries and
highway robberies were of the most audacious kind. William, however,
was not a man to sit and brood over such things. He at once sent
out parties of cavalry into the districts where the robberies were
frequent, and, by bribing some of the thieves, got information of the
rest, whom his police hunted out industriously. Their chief captain,
one Whitney, was taken and hanged, and the highways and domestic
hearths were soon as secure as ever.

He called together Parliament on the 4th of November, where there was
every reason to expect no little faction and difficulties. Parliament
was not merely divided into Ministerialists and Opposition, it was
broken into sundry parties, all exasperated by one cause or another.
The Whigs were sore with their loss of office to a great extent; the
Lords were nettled at the Commons refusing their claims put forward in
the Lord High Steward's Court Bill, and were urged to contention by
Marlborough and the other lords who had been imprisoned, and who were
loud in denouncing the proceeding as a breach of their privileges.
There was a great jealousy of William's employment of so many Dutch in
preference to Englishmen, and the Commons were discontented with the
manner in which public business was conducted.

William was aware of the difficult part he had to play, and in his
opening speech he took care to put La Hogue in the foreground, and
to congratulate them on this glorious victory gained by Englishmen.
He confessed that the success of the campaign on land had been but
moderate, but he praised in the highest terms the valour of the British
soldiers. He expatiated on the power and the designs of France, told
them that the cause of Protestantism was the cause of England, that
Louis must be humbled, and that for that purpose there must be still
liberal supplies. He threw out a hint of carrying the war into France
itself, and assured them that his own aims were identical with theirs,
and that he would willingly sacrifice his life for the honour and
welfare of the nation. To conciliate both Houses, he condescended to
ask their advice and assistance in putting the national affairs into
the best possible condition--a piece of candour of which he speedily
found reason to repent. Both Houses voted him thanks for his gracious
speech, and, immediately seizing on his request for advice, began to
offer it in good earnest.

The Lords at once took up the case of Marlborough, Huntingdon, and
Scarsdale. They complained that in ungratefully persecuting Marlborough
the Court had gone the full length of treating the Princess of Denmark
with severity and indignity. Her guards had been taken away; when
she went to Bath, the magistrates had orders to omit the honours due
to royalty, and the Church to omit her name in the prayers; and
this simply because she had shown her attachment to the Countess of
Marlborough. Marlborough, thus supported by the Lords, who had their
own cause of pique about the Lord High Steward's Court Bill, and by the
disrespect shown to the Princess, was loud in his complaints of the
harshness with which he had been treated, and of being kept in prison
with his friends in defiance of Habeas Corpus. The Earl of Shrewsbury,
the Marquis of Halifax, the Earls of Mulgrave, Devonshire, Montague,
Bradford, Stamford, Monmouth, and Warrington, supported him from
various motives, many of them being Whigs; and the Jacobites fanned
the flame, hoping for a rupture. Lord Lucas, Constable of the Tower,
was ordered to produce the warrants of commitment, and the Clerk of
the King's Bench to lay before them the affidavit of Aaron Smith, the
Solicitor of the Treasury, on which they had been remanded; and Smith
was sharply cross-examined. The judges were ordered to attend, and the
Lords passed a resolution that the law had been violated in the case
of the noble prisoners. They then consulted on the best mode of fully
discharging them. The debate was so violent that the Ministers were
alarmed, and proposed to the King to adjourn Parliament till the 17th
of the month, and in the meanwhile to liberate the noblemen from their
bail. Accordingly, on the reassembling of the Lords, they were informed
that the King had discharged the recognisances of the accused nobles,
and the Lords sullenly dropped the question.

But though disappointed here, the Lords immediately fastened on the
king's request of advice. They moved that a committee of both Houses
should be appointed for preparing this advice. The motion, however,
was rejected by a majority of twelve. Nevertheless, they determined to
give the king advice themselves. They agreed to an Address, praying
his Majesty to appoint an Englishman commander of the forces, and that
English officers should take precedence of all in the confederate army,
except the officers of Crowned heads. This was meant to affect the
Dutch, who were only the subjects of a Stadtholder. They also desired
that the forces left in England should be all English, commanded by
an English general; that such officers as pressed men for the fleet
should be cashiered, and that no foreigner should sit at the Board of
Ordnance. All those matters, aimed at the king's favoured countrymen,
William received coldly, returning only short and dry answers.

The Lords next attacked Russell for his neglect to make the descent
intended on the coast of France. They ordered books and papers
concerning that matter to be laid before them. A committee was
appointed, and the substance of the charge was communicated to the
Commons as concerning a member of that House.

[Illustration: GREENWICH HOSPITAL.]

The Commons on their part took up the charge against Russell as a
charge against themselves. They informed the Lords that they found that
Russell had conducted himself at the head of the fleet with fidelity,
courage, and ability. Russell made his defence, and accused Nottingham
of being the cause of the non-descent. He declared that above twenty
days had elapsed between his writing to Nottingham and receiving an
answer; that therefore the expedition had become abortive from not
receiving timely and necessary information and orders. Nottingham's
friends in the Commons warmly took up his defence; the Lords demanded a
conference; the Commons refused it, and, amid this noise and animosity,
the important subject was left undecided.

The Commons then proceeded to give the King the advice and the
assistance which he had so unluckily asked. They demanded that books
and papers should be laid before them necessary to enable them to
inquire into the management of the Government offices; but they soon
came to a stand, for, inquiring into the abuses of the Admiralty, the
merits or demerits of Nottingham and Russell came again into question.
One or both of them had been guilty of gross mismanagement, but each
House defended its own member, and the only result was a motion in
the Commons, which, whilst it acquitted Russell, seemed to reflect on
Nottingham. The Lords resenting, made severe reprisals on the character
and conduct of Russell, and then the incident ended.

The Commons were more generally united in condemning the failure of
the battle of Steinkirk and the conduct of Solmes. Some officers in
the House, however, defended the behaviour of the Dutch officers on
that occasion, and especially of Overkirk in bringing the remains
of Mackay's troops out of the battle. But they said not a word in
vindication of Solmes, and William, to his disgrace, still continued
this insolent foreigner, who had wilfully sacrificed the lives of the
brave English soldiers, in his command.

[Illustration: BURNING OF BLOUNT'S PAMPHLET BY THE COMMON HANGMAN.
(_See p._ 466.)]

The Commons now went into the question of supplies. They were fully
prepared to sustain the king in his exertions to check the arms of
France, though they protested against a fact which they had discovered
by examinations of the treaty between the Allies, that the English paid
two-thirds of the expense of the war. After grumbling, however, they
voted fifty-four thousand men for the army, twenty thousand of them
to remain at home, and thirty-three thousand men for the navy. They
voted two millions for the army, and two millions for the navy, besides
seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds to supply the deficiency
of the quarterly poll. Still there was likely to be a deficiency.
Notwithstanding the large grants of the previous year, the expenditure
had far exceeded them; it was, therefore, proposed to resort to a land
tax--the first imposed since the Restoration, and the grand transfer
of taxation from the aristocracy to the nation at large. The Peers
made a violent opposition, not to the tax, but to their estates being
valued and assessed by any but commissioners of their own body. But
they finally gave way, and a land tax of four shillings in the pound
was carried. When Louis heard of these unusual supplies, he could not
restrain his amazement. "My little cousin, the Prince of Orange," he
said, "seems to be firm in the saddle; but no matter, the last louis
d'or must carry it."

Little did Louis know the condition of England when he said that. If
the last piece of gold was to carry it, the chance lay much on the
side of England. Whilst France was fast sinking in exhaustion from
his enormous wars and lavish luxury, whilst his people were sunk in
destitution, and trade and agriculture were languishing, England was
fast rising in wealth from commerce, colonies, and internal industry,
and was capable of maintaining the struggle for an indefinite period.

Yet it was at this moment that the National Debt assumed its
determinate shape. It had existed, indeed, since the fraud of Charles
I. on the London merchants by the shutting of the exchequer. It was now
said to be suggested by Burnet that there were heaps of money hidden
away in chests and behind wainscots for want of safe and convenient
public security, and that, by Government giving that security at a
fixed percentage, it might command any amount of money by incurring
only a slight increase of annual taxation for the interest. The idea
itself, however, was familiar to William, for the Dutch had long had a
debt of five million pounds, which was regarded by the people as the
very best security for their money. Accordingly, a Bill was passed on
the 3rd of January, 1693, for raising a million by loan, and another
million by annuities, which were to be paid by a new duty on beer and
other liquors; and thus, with a formal establishment of the National
Debt, closed the year 1692.

The opening of 1693 was distinguished by a warm debate on the liberty
of the press. The licensing, which was about to expire, was proposed
for renewal. The eloquent appeal of Milton, in his "Areopagitica,"
that all books which bore the names of the author or publisher should
be exempt from the power of the licensers, had hitherto produced no
effect; but now circumstances occurred which drew the subject into
notice, and raised many other voices in favour of such exemption. In
the Lords, Halifax, Mulgrave, and Shrewsbury warmly advocated the
principles of Milton; but though the Bill passed, it was only by a
slight majority, and with a protest against it, signed by eleven
peers; nor was it to pass for more than two years. The circumstance
which roused this strong feeling was, that Burnet had published a
pastoral letter to the clergy of his diocese, recommending them to
take the oaths to William and Mary, in which, amongst their claims to
the throne, he had unfortunately mentioned that of conquest. This had
escaped general attention till the Royal Licenser, Edmund Bohun, a high
Tory, who had taken the oaths on this very plea that the king and queen
had won the throne by conquest, fell into the trap of one Blount, whose
works he had refused to license. This man wrote an anonymous pamphlet
with the title, "King William and Queen Mary Conquerors." The unlucky
censor fell into the trap, and licensed it. Then the storm of Whig
indignation broke over his head. He was summoned before Parliament and
committed to custody. The book was ordered to be burnt by the hangman,
and the House unanimously passed a resolution praying his Majesty
to dismiss him from his office. The unfortunate licenser was then
discharged on his own petition, after having been reprimanded on his
knees by the Speaker. Burnet's pastoral letter was likewise ordered to
be burnt by the hangman, much to the bishop's shame and mortification.
But the liberty of the press was achieved. When the Two Years Act
maintaining the censorship expired, the Commons refused to renew it.
William prorogued Parliament on the 14th of March, and prepared to set
out for the Continental campaign.

William, on his part, had more than his usual difficulty in bringing
his Allies into the field. Indeed, they were far more occupied in
their petty feuds than thinking of presenting a sufficient front to
the great enemy who, if successful, would tread them all down in their
own territories as Buonaparte afterwards crushed their posterity. The
Courts of Baden, of Saxony, of Austria, and of the lesser Powers, were
all quarrelling amongst themselves. The Northern Powers were still
trying to weaken the Allies, and so form a third party; and on the
side of Italy, Savoy was menaced by numerous forces of France, and
ill-supported by Austria. The Prince of Hesse had neglected to furnish
his quota, and yet wanted a chief command. The Prince of Baden and the
Elector of Saxony were at strife for the command of the army of the
Rhine. When William had brought all these wretched and provoking Allies
into some degree of order, he mustered seventy thousand men in the
field, and Louis came against him with a hundred and twenty thousand.

Louis marched himself with his army with all the pomp and splendour
that he could assume. He brought all his Court with him, as if his
officers should be stimulated to the utmost by having to fight under
the very eyes of their king and the courtiers and ladies, Madame de
Maintenon amongst them. Louis's plan of action was precisely what it
had been in the two previous campaigns. As he had suddenly invested
Mons and Namur by overwhelming forces, before his enemy could approach,
he now proposed to surprise and take Brussels or Liége, and so carry
off the glory of the exploit both from the Allies and his own general,
Luxemburg. This was a cheap and easy way of securing fame without
danger; but this time William was too quick for him. Louis arrived at
the commencement of June at Namur, where his ladies held a brilliant
court. But William had taken up a strong position at Parke, near
Louvain, and thrown reinforcements into Maestricht, Huy, and Charleroi.
Louis perceived that he was checkmated, and his desire of acquiring
still more martial honours suddenly evaporated. Nothing but hard
fighting could make an impression on his stubborn antagonist, and
for that Louis had no fancy. He determined, therefore, to return to
Versailles with his ladies and his Court, and leave Luxemburg to fight
it out. The alarm at this proposal in the camp was intense. Luxemburg
represented to Louis that it would have the certain effect of damping
the spirits of the soldiers, and raise those of the enemy. He reminded
him that now he had nothing to do but to bear down upon the Allies with
all his powers, and sweep them away by mere momentum, and put an end
to the war. But all his entreaties were lost on the Grand Monarque,
who had rather steal a victory than win one. He not only persisted
in going, but he weakened the forces of Luxemburg by dispatching the
division of Boufflers, amounting to twenty thousand men, which he
had taken under his own especial command, under Boufflers and the
Dauphin, to join Marshal de Lorges, who had orders again to ravage the
Palatinate.

But, in reality, Luxemburg was better without the pompous and
voluptuous king. He had no one now to come between himself and his
real military genius, in which he infinitely excelled William; and he
immediately brought his skill into play. Before attacking the Allies
he resolved to divide them on the true Macchiavellian principle,
"divide et impera." He therefore made a feint of marching upon Liége.
Liége was one of the places that it was expected that the French
would aim at securing this campaign, and the inhabitants had very
cavalierly declined to take any measures for defending themselves,
saying it was the business of the Allies. William, therefore, put his
forces in motion to prevent this catastrophe. He had advanced as far
as Neer-Hespen; there, however, he heard that Luxemburg had obtained
possession of Huy, which had been defended by a body of troops from
Liége and Count Tilly, but which, though supported by another division
under the Duke of Würtemberg, had been compelled to return to Liége.

William now dispatched twenty thousand men to reinforce Liége, and
thus accomplish the very thing at which Luxemburg was aiming. The
moment he learnt that William had reduced his force by this detachment,
he marched from Huy on the 28th of July, and passed the Jaar near
its source with an army exceeding that of the Allies by thirty-five
thousand men. William, now aware of Luxemburg's design, committed one
of those blunders in strategy, which, except for his indomitable
tenacity of purpose, would long ago have ruined him. He could have put
the deep river Gerte between him and the enemy; it was just in the
rear. His generals strongly urged him to do this, where he might have
maintained his position till he had recalled his forces from Liége.
But he would not listen to them. He was afraid of having to retreat
before Luxemburg, and discouraging his men. He set about, therefore,
instantly to strengthen his then position. It was naturally strong;
on his right hand lay the village of Neer-Winden amongst a network of
hedges, and deep lanes, with a small stream winding through it; on his
right lay the village of Romsdorff, on a brook named the Landen, whence
the battle took its name. William ordered an entrenchment to be thrown
up from one village to the other, and mounted with a formidable rampart
of stakes. Batteries were raised along this breastwork, and the two
villages were made as strong as the time would allow.

The Allies commenced immediately a cannonade with a hundred pieces of
cannon on the ramparts, which did great execution; but the French soon
returned the compliment, and about eight o'clock made a furious attack
on the villages of Lare and Neer-Winden. These places were several
times lost and regained. In one of the assaults the Duke of Berwick
was taken prisoner. Perceiving himself surrounded by the English,
he plucked off his white cockade, and endeavoured to pass himself
off as an English officer. His English tongue might have served him,
but he had fallen under the eye of his uncle, Brigadier Churchill,
who received him affectionately, and conducted him to William, who
addressed him with courtesy, but never saw him again, as he was
immediately after the battle exchanged for the Duke of Ormond, who was
wounded and taken prisoner in the action. Meanwhile the battle was
raging fiercely all along the line. The French repeatedly rushed up to
the breastworks, and were as often driven back by the slaughtering fire
of the infantry. A fresh attack was made on Neer-Winden, supported by
the division under the Duke of Bourbon, but which was repulsed with
terrible carnage. Then Luxemburg called together his staff to consult,
and it was resolved to try one more assault on Neer-Winden with the
famous Household Troops, which had carried the day at Mons and Namur.
William met them at the head of several English regiments, which
charged the Household Troops with such impetuosity that, for the first
time, they were forced to give way. But whilst William was exerting
himself on the right, with a desperation and a risking of his person
which astonished everyone, the centre had become much weakened, and a
murderous fight was going on at Romsdorff, or Neer-Landen, on the left.
There the Prince of Conti renewed the flagging contest by bringing up
some of the finest regiments of the French infantry, whilst Villeroi
there encountered the Bavarian cavalry, under Count D'Arco. In this
_mêlée_ the Duke of Chartres narrowly escaped being taken. Whilst the
battle was thus obstinately disputed, the Marquis D'Harcourt brought up
two-and-twenty fresh squadrons from Huy, which falling on the English,
Dutch, and Hanoverians struggling against the united onslaught of
Luxemburg, Marsin, and Marshal de Joyeuse, bore them down by actual
numbers. The whole line gave way; and now was seen the folly of William
leaving the river in his rear instead of having it in front. The
confusion became terrible to escape over the bridge, and a frightful
carnage must have followed had not William, with the regiments of
Wyndham, Lumley, and Galway, borne the brunt of the pursuing host till
the rest of his army got over the bridge of Neer-Hespen. As it was,
the rout and disorder were dreadful; numbers flung themselves into the
river, but found it too deep, and were drowned. The Duke of Ormond was
here severely wounded. Here, too, Solmes, mortally wounded, was seized
by the enemy. The "English bulldogs" did not mourn his loss. If William
by his want of judgment had led his troops into this trap, he did his
best to get them out of it. He repeatedly dismounted to encourage his
men, inciting them by voice and example to stand up to the enemy. He
had two led horses shot close behind him; one bullet passed through
his hat, another through his sleeve, and a third carried away the knot
of his sash. At length he got his army over the bridge, and encamped
on the other bank of the river. The French did not attempt to pursue;
they were worn out with their violent exertion, and passed the night on
the field of battle amongst the heaps of slain and wounded. The next
morning presented the most appalling scene of butchery, unequalled by
any battle of that epoch, except that of Malplaquet. Twenty thousand
men are said to have perished in this bloody struggle, about an equal
number on each side. On the French side fell Count Montchevreuil and
the Duke D'Uzes, the premier peer of France. Luxemburg, exhausted with
this effort, remained fifteen days at Waren, reorganising his shattered
forces; and William employed the time in a similar manner, recalling
the troops from Liége and from other places; so that in a short time he
was again ready for action, his headquarters being Louvain.

The battle of Landen was the great event of the campaign of 1693.
When Luxemburg was rejoined by Boufflers from the Rhine, he invested
Charleroi, and that with so much adroitness that William was not able
to prevent him. Charleroi capitulated on the 11th of October, and
Louis ordered a _Te Deum_ and other rejoicings for this fresh triumph.
But though he professed to triumph, he had little cause to do so. He
had formerly overrun Holland, Flanders, or Franche-Comté in a single
campaign, and sometimes without a battle; now he had beaten the Allies
at Fleurus, Steinkirk, and Landen, and yet here they were as ready to
fight him as ever. His country was sinking into the very depths of
misery and destitution, the campaign had cost him ten thousand men,
and though he had taken sixty cannon, nine mortars, and a great number
of colours and standards, he could not advance twenty miles in the
direction of the United Provinces without running the risk of a similar
decimation of his troops. It was a humiliating position, after all.
After the surrender of Charleroi both armies went into winter quarters.

If the affairs of England had been unsuccessful by land, they had been
most disastrous by sea. Before leaving for Holland William ordered that
Killigrew and Delaval should, with their whole fleet, amounting to
nearly a hundred sail, get out to sea early, and blockade the French
fleets in their ports, so as to allow our merchantmen to pursue their
voyages with security. Our ports were crowded with trading vessels,
which had long been waiting to sail to the Mediterranean and other
seas with cargoes. About the middle of May the admirals united their
squadrons at St. Helens, and, being joined by a considerable number
of Dutch men-of-war, they took on board five regiments of soldiers,
intending to make a descent on Brest. No less than four hundred
merchantmen were ready to start, and on the 6th of June the united
fleet put out from St. Helens to convoy them so far as to be out of
danger of the French fleets, when Sir George Rooke was to take them
forward to the Mediterranean under guard of twenty sail. But the French
appear to have been perfectly informed of all the intentions of the
English Government from the traitors about the Court, and the English
to have been perfectly ignorant of the motions of the French. Instead
of Tourville allowing himself to be blockaded in Brest, and D'Estrées
in Toulon, they were already out and sailing down towards Gibraltar,
where they meant to lie in wait for the English.

[Illustration: LOUIS XIV.]

The united fleet of the Allies having, therefore, accompanied Rooke and
the merchantmen about two hundred miles beyond Ushant, returned. Rooke
did not think they were by any means certain of their enemies being
behind them, and earnestly entreated the admirals to go on farther, but
in vain. They not only turned back, but went home, without making the
slightest attempt to carry out the attack on Brest. When they reached
England it was well known that Tourville had recently quitted Brest,
and was pursuing his course south to join D'Estrées. The consternation
and indignation were beyond bounds. A swift vessel was despatched to
overtake and recall Rooke and the merchant vessels if possible. But it
is proverbial that a stern chase is a long chase. It was impossible to
come up with Rooke; he had reached Cape St. Vincent, and there learnt
that a French fleet was lying in the Bay of Lagos; but, imagining that
it was only a detached squadron, he went on, till on the 16th of June
he perceived before him the whole French fleet, amounting to eighty
vessels.

As to engaging such an unequal force, that would have been a wilful
sacrifice of himself and his charge. The Dutch Admiral Vandergoes
agreed with him that the best thing was for the merchant vessels to
run into the Spanish ports Faro, San Lucar, or Cadiz, as best served
them, others were too far out at sea; these he stood out to protect as
long as he could, and they made, some for Ireland, some for Corunna and
Lisbon. He himself then made all sail for Madeira, which he reached
in safety. Two of the Dutch ships, being overtaken by the French, ran
in shore, and thus drawing the French after them, helped the others
to get off. Captains Schrijver and Vander Poel fought stoutly as long
as they could, and then surrendered. The French commander Coetlegon
took seven of the Smyrna merchantmen, and sank four under the rocks
of Gibraltar. The loss to the merchants was fearful. The news of this
great calamity spread a gloom over the City of London, and many were
loud in attributing disloyalty to Killigrew and Delaval, probably not
without cause, for that they were in correspondence with St. Germains
is only too certain.

Sir George Rooke returned from Madeira to Cork, which he reached on the
3rd of August, his ships of war and the traders which had followed him
for safety numbering fifty vessels. Leaving the rest of his ships to
convoy the merchantmen to Kinsale, he returned to the fleet, which was
cruising in the Channel, and which now returned to St. Helens, where
they had already landed the soldiers. About the same time a squadron,
which had gone out to seize the island of Martinique, under Sir Francis
Wheeler, after coasting Newfoundland and Canada, returned totally
unsuccessful. The Dutch set sail for Holland on the 19th of September,
and thus terminated this inglorious naval campaign.

On the 7th of November Parliament met. William had a poor story of
his campaign to relate, but he attributed his defeat to the enormous
exertions which Louis had made, and on that plea demanded still greater
efforts from England. He asked that the army should be raised to a
hundred and ten thousand men, and the navy proportionably augmented.
He complained bitterly of the mismanagement of the fleet, and the
Commons immediately proceeded to inquire into the cause of it. The
Whigs made a vehement charge of treachery and neglect against Delaval
and Killigrew; the Tories, to defend them, threw the blame on the
Admiralty. Lord Falkland, who was Chief Commissioner, was proved by
Rainsford, the Receiver of the Navy, to have embezzled a large sum,
and it was moved that he be committed to the Tower. This, however, was
overruled, but he was reprimanded in his place. The Lords then took up
the same examination, and endeavoured to turn the blame from the Earl
of Nottingham to Sir John Trenchard, the Whig secretary. Nottingham
declared that early in June he received a list of the French fleet
from Paris, and the time of their sailing, and handed it to Trenchard,
whose duty it was to send the orders to the admirals. But Trenchard
was in his turn screened by the Whigs. The matter was again taken
up by the Commons, and Lord Falkland was declared guilty of a high
misdemeanour and committed to the Tower, whence, however, in two days
he was released on his own petition. Robert Harley--destined to make a
great figure in the succeeding reign--Foley, and Harcourt, all of whom
from being Whigs had become Tories, presented to the House a statement
of the receipts and disbursements of the revenue, which displayed the
grossest mismanagement. But the farther the inquiry went, the more
flagrant became the discoveries of the corruption of both Ministers
and members of Parliament, through bounties, grants, places, pensions,
and secret-service money; so that it was clear that Parliament was so
managed that Ministers could baffle any Bill, quash any grievance,
and prepare any fictitious statement of account. The result was that
William was compelled to dismiss Nottingham, and to place Russell at
the head of the Admiralty. The seals which Nottingham resigned were
offered to Shrewsbury, but were not at once accepted.

Having expressed their feelings on the mismanagement and treachery
of the past year, the Commons proceeded to vote the supplies for the
next, and in this they showed no want of confidence in the king. They
did not, indeed, vote him his hundred and ten thousand troops, but
they voted eighty-three thousand one hundred and twenty-one, but not
till they had called for the treaties existing between William and
his Allies, and the quota which every one was to furnish. To defray
the charge, they voted five millions and a half, in nearly equal
proportions between the army and the navy, including four hundred
thousand pounds to pay the arrears of the Session; and this they
ordered to be raised by a land tax of four shillings in the pound,
and a further excise on beer, a duty on salt, and a lottery. This was
a profusion which would have made the country stand aghast under the
abhorrent rule of James, and the force was nearly double that with
which Cromwell had made himself the dread of Europe.

[Illustration: THE FOUNDING OF THE BANK OF ENGLAND, 1694.

FROM THE ORIGINAL DESIGN BY GEORGE HARCOURT FOR THE WALL PANEL IN THE
ROYAL EXCHANGE.]

These matters being settled, the Commons considered the popular
questions of the Bill for Regulating the Trials for High Treason, the
Triennial Bill, and the Place Bill. None of these Bills were made law.
The Triennial Bill and the Bill for Regulating the Trials for High
Treason were lost; the Place Bill was carried, but William refused
to ratify it, under the idea that it was intended to abridge his
prerogative. The excitement in the Commons was intense. It was resolved
to address his Majesty, and such an address was drawn up and presented
by the whole House. William received them very graciously, but conceded
nothing, and Harley declared, on returning to the House, that the
king's answer was no answer at all. Menaces of showing their power on
the next occasion by stopping the supplies were thrown out, and it
was proposed to go up to his Majesty again to demand a more explicit
answer; but the Whigs represented the danger of thus encouraging the
hopes of the Jacobites by the prospect of a breach between King and
Parliament, and the matter dropped.

The question of the charter of the East India Company was again warmly
debated. The feud between the old and the new Company had grown so
violent that the old Company, fearing Government might be induced to
grant a charter to the new Company, had put forth all its powers of
bribery, and had succeeded. But the former had somehow neglected the
payment of the tax on joint-stock companies, by which, according to
the terms of the Act, their charter was forfeited. The new Company
eagerly seized on this circumstance to prevent a renewal of the
charter; but the old Company put nearly one hundred thousand pounds at
the disposal of Sir Thomas Cook, one of their members, and also member
of Parliament, and by a skilful distribution of this sum amongst the
king's Ministers, Caermarthen and Seymour coming in for a large share,
they succeeded in getting their charter renewed.

The new Company and the merchants of London were exasperated at this
proceeding. They published an account of the whole transaction; they
represented that the old Company was guilty of the grossest oppression
and the most scandalous acts of violence and injustice in India and
its seas; they asserted that two of their own ships had exported
in one year more cloths than the old Company had exported in three
years; and they offered to send more the next year of both cloths and
other merchandise than the Company had sent in five; but the bribes
prevailed, and the old Company obtained its charter--not very definite
in its terms, however, as regarded its monopoly, and subject to such
alterations and restrictions within a given time as the king should
see fit. At this juncture the old Company were imprudent enough to
obtain an order from the Admiralty to restrain a valuable ship called
the _Redbridge_, lying in the Thames, from sailing. Her papers were
made out for Alicante, but it was well known that she was bound for
the Indies. The owners appealed to Parliament, and Parliament declared
the detention of the vessel illegal, and, moreover, that all subjects
of England had a right to trade to the Indies, unless prohibited by
Act of Parliament. Encouraged by this decision, the new Company prayed
the Commons to grant them a direct sanction to trade thither, and the
old Company, on their part, prayed for a Parliamentary sanction to
their charter; but no decision in either case was come to, and for some
years scenes of strange contention continued to be enacted between the
rival Companies and free traders in the seas and ports of those distant
regions.

The last Act of this Parliamentary session proved the most important of
all; it was the establishment of the Bank of England. Banking, now so
universal, was but of very recent introduction to England. The Lombard
Jews had a bank in Italy as early as 808; Venice had its bank in 1157;
Geneva in 1345; Barcelona in 1401. In Genoa, Stockholm, Amsterdam,
Hamburg, and Rotterdam there had long been banks, but in England men
had continued, till within a very short time previous to this period,
to hoard and pay out their own money from their own strong boxes. The
goldsmiths of Lombard Street had of late become bankers, and people
began to pay by orders on them, and travellers to take orders from
them on foreign banks. It was now beginning to be strongly agitated
to establish joint-stock banks, and there were various speculative
heads at work with plans for them. One Hugh Chamberlayne and his
coadjutor, John Briscoe, published a scheme of a land bank, by which
gentlemen were to give security for their notes on their land; on the
principle that land was as real and substantial property as gold. But
the extravagant and unsound views as to the actual value of land which
they promulgated ruined their credit. Because an estate was worth
twenty thousand pounds at twenty years' purchase, they argued that it
was worth that every twenty years, and, therefore, could be immediately
convertible at the same rate for any number of years--as if they could
put a hundred years' purchase in the first twenty, and raise the
hundred years' value, or one hundred thousand pounds, on it at once.

There was, however, a more sober and shrewd projector, William
Paterson, a calculating Scotsman, who in 1691 had laid before
Government a plan for a national bank on sound and feasible principles.
His scheme had received little attention, but now, though a million
of money was raised by the lottery, another million was needed, and
Paterson secured the attention of Charles Montague, a rising statesman,
to his scheme. Paterson represented that the Government might easily
relieve itself of the difficulty of raising this money, and of all
future similar difficulties, by establishing a national bank, at the
same time that it conferred the most important advantages on the public
at large. He had already firmly impressed Michael Godfrey, an eminent
London merchant, and the brother of the unfortunate Sir Edmundsbury
Godfrey, with the immense merits of his scheme. They now submitted
these merits, and the particularly attractive one to a young politician
of raising himself by a happy mode of serving the Government, and
acquiring immediate distinction for practical sagacity. Montague was a
young man of high family, but a younger brother's younger son--poor,
clever, accomplished, and intensely ambitious. At Cambridge he had
distinguished himself as a wit and a versifier; but he was now in the
Commons, and had made a rapid reputation as an orator and statesman
by his management of the Bill for Regulating the Trials for High
Treason. This man--vain, ostentatious, not too nice in his means of
climbing, but with talents equal to the most daring enterprise, and
who afterwards became better known as the Earl of Halifax--saw the
substantial character of Paterson's scheme, and took it up. Whilst he
worked the affair in Parliament, Godfrey was to prepare the City for it.

Montague submitted the scheme to the Committee of Ways and Means,
and as they were at their wits' end to raise the required million,
they caught at it eagerly. The proposed plan was to grant a charter
to a company of capitalists, under the name of the Governor and
Company of the Bank of England. This company was to have authority
to issue promissory notes, discount bills of Exchange, and to deal
in bullion and foreign securities. Their first act was to be to lend
the Government twelve hundred thousand pounds, at eight per cent.,
and to receive, as means of repayment, the proceeds of a new duty on
tonnage, whence the bank at first received the name of the Tonnage
Bank. The Bill for establishing this bank was introduced ostensibly to
Parliament as a Bill for imposing this new duty on tonnage; the charter
of the proposed bank being granted in consideration of its making an
immediate advance on the tonnage duty. In the Commons it underwent many
sallies of wit and sarcasm, as one of the thousand speculations of the
time; but in the City, where its real character was at once perceived
by the Lombard Street money-dealers, it was instantly assailed by
a perfect storm of execration. It was declared to be a scheme for
enabling the Government to raise money at any moment and to any extent,
independently of Parliament, and thus to accomplish all that the
Charleses and Jameses had ever aimed at. To silence this suspicion,
Montague introduced a clause making it illegal, and amounting to
forfeiture of its charter, for the bank to lend any money to Government
without the consent of the Parliament. This, however, did not lay the
tempest. It was now denounced as a Republican institution borrowed
from Holland and Genoa, and meant to undermine the monarchy; it was a
great fact, the objectors urged, that banks and kings had never existed
together.

Notwithstanding all opposition, however, the Bill passed the Commons;
and though it met with fresh and determined opposition in the Lords,
where it was declared to be a scheme of the usurers to enrich
themselves at the expense of the aristocracy, on Caermarthen coolly
asking them, if they threw out this Bill, how they meant to pay the
Channel fleet, they passed it; and such was its success in the City,
that in less than ten days the whole sum required by Government was
subscribed. Such was the origin of that wonderful institution, the
Bank of England. One other measure of importance was carried by this
Parliament, namely, the Triennial Act, limiting Parliament to three
years.

Immediately that the Bank of England Bill had received the royal
assent, William prorogued Parliament, and rewarded Montague for his
introduction of the scheme of the bank, by making him Chancellor of
the Exchequer. Shrewsbury was now induced to accept the Seals. William
having shown him that he was aware of his being tampered with by the
agents of James, demanded his acceptance of them as a pledge of his
fidelity. To secure him effectually--for William knew well that nothing
but interest would secure Whigs--he conferred on him the vacant Garter
and a dukedom. Seymour was dismissed, and his place as a Lord of the
Treasury was given to John Smith, a zealous Whig, so that excepting
Caermarthen, Lord President, and Godolphin, First Lord of the Treasury,
the Cabinet was purely Whig. The old plan of mixed Ministries was being
rapidly abandoned.

William had closed the session of Parliament on the 25th of April,
1694, and in a few days he was sailing for Rotterdam. Before going,
however, he had ventured to refuse offers of peace from Louis. This
ambitious monarch, by his enormous efforts to vanquish the Allies, had
greatly exhausted his kingdom. Scarcely ever had France, in the worst
times of her history, been reduced so low, and a succession of bad
seasons and consequent famine had completed the misery of his people.
He therefore employed the King of Denmark to make advances for a peace.
He offered to surrender all pretensions to the Netherlands, and to
agree to the Duke of Bavaria succeeding to Flanders on the death of the
King of Spain; but he made no offer of acknowledging William and Mary
as rightful sovereigns of England. Many thought that William ought, on
such conditions, to have made peace, and thus saved the money and men
annually consumed in Flanders. But Parliament and the English people
both knew Louis far too well to suppose that the moment that he had
recruited his finances he would not break through all his engagements
and renew the war with redoubled energy. His people were now reduced in
many places to feed on nettles, and his enemies deemed it the surest
policy to press him whilst in his extremity.

[Illustration: COSTUMES OF THE TIME OF WILLIAM AND MARY.]

Finding that he did not succeed in obtaining peace, Louis resolved to
act on the defensive in the coming campaign in every quarter except in
Catalonia, where his whole fleet could co-operate with the Count de
Noailles, the commander of his land forces. William, who had received
intelligence of this plan of the campaign, before his departure,
ordered the British fleet under Russell to prevent the union of the
French squadrons from Brest and Toulon. Russell was then to proceed
to the Mediterranean to drive the French from the coast of Catalonia,
and co-operate with the Spaniards on land. Meanwhile, the Earl of
Berkeley, with another detachment of the fleet, was to take on board a
strong force under the command of General Talmash, and bombard Brest
in the absence of Tourville. All this was ably planned, but the whole
scheme was defeated by the treachery of his courtiers: by Godolphin,
his own First Lord of the Treasury, and by Marlborough, against whom
the most damning evidence exists. Macpherson and Dalrymple, in the
State papers discovered by them at Versailles, have shown that the
whole of William's plans on this occasion were communicated to James by
Godolphin, Marlborough, and Colonel Sackville, and have given us the
strongest reasons for believing that the preparations of the fleet were
purposely delayed by Caermarthen, the new Duke of Leeds, Shrewsbury,
Godolphin, and others, letters for that purpose being discovered
addressed to them by James through the Countess of Shrewsbury.

But of all the infamous persons thus plotting against the sovereign
they had sworn to serve, and from whom they had many of them just
received the highest honours that the Government could bestow, none
equalled in infamy the detestable Marlborough. This man, who was
professing allegiance at the same time to both William and James,
and who would have betrayed either of them for his own purposes, was
indefatigable in hunting out the king's secrets, and dispatching
them with all haste, enforcing the disgrace of his own country and
the massacre of his own countrymen with all his eloquence--the sole
object being his own aggrandisement. Talmash was the only general who
could be compared with him in military talent. Talmash betrayed and
disgraced, Marlborough, who was suspected and rejected by William for
his treason, felt sure he himself must be employed. Accordingly, he
importuned Russell for a knowledge of the destination of the fleet; but
Russell, who probably by this time had found it his interest to be true
to his sovereign, refused to enlighten him. But Marlborough was not to
be thus defeated in his traitorous designs. He was on most intimate
terms with Godolphin, and most likely obtained the real facts from him.
Godolphin, indeed, had already warned the French through James of the
intended blow, and Marlborough followed up the intelligence by a letter
dated the 2nd of May, in which he informed James that twelve regiments
of infantry and two regiments of marines were about to embark under
command of Talmash, in order to destroy Brest.

This diabolical treason had its full effect. Tourville had already
sailed. He left Brest on the 25th of April, and was at this moment in
the Straits of Gibraltar, which he passed on the 4th of May. Brest was
defenceless; but Louis, thus apprised of his danger, instantly sent
the great engineer of the age, Vauban, to put the port into the best
possible state of defence, and dispatched after him a powerful body of
troops. The weather favoured the traitors and the French. The English
fleet was detained by contrary winds; it did not quit St. Helens till
the 29th of May. On the 5th of June the fleet was off Cape Finisterre,
where a council of war was held, and the next day Russell sailed for
the Mediterranean with the greater part of the fleet. Lord Berkeley
with the remainder, having on board General Talmash and his six
thousand troops, turned his prows towards Brest. But by this time the
town was in full occupation by a great body of soldiers, and Vauban had
planted batteries commanding the port in every direction, in addition
to eight large rafts in the harbour well supplied with mortars. In
fact, there were no less than ninety mortars and three hundred cannons;
all the passages under the castle were made bomb-proof, and there
were at least five thousand infantry and a regiment of dragoons in
the place. The English had no friendly traitors amongst the French
to act the Marlborough and apprise them of all these preparations;
and they rushed blindly on the destruction which their own perfidious
countrymen had organised for them. The greater part of the unhappy
men were slaughtered, and Talmash was shot through the thigh, and
borne off to the ships. Talmash died in a few days, exclaiming that he
had been betrayed by his own countrymen. He was so, more absolutely
than he or even most of his contemporaries were aware of. The object
of Marlborough was accomplished more completely than he could have
anticipated. His rival was not disgraced, but destroyed--taken out of
his way; and the hypocritical monster went to Whitehall to condole with
the queen over this national dishonour and calamity, and to offer what
he truly called "his own unworthy sword." When the offer was forwarded
to William in Holland, he bluntly rejected it; but Marlborough
ultimately achieved his end, and we ought never to forget, when we
remember Ramillies, Blenheim, and Malplaquet, that amongst the acts by
which he rose to a dukedom was the massacre of Camaret Bay.

On the 9th of November William landed at Margate, where the queen met
him, and their journey to the capital was like an ovation. On the 12th
the king met his Parliament, and congratulated it on having decidedly
given a check to the arms of the French. This was true, though it had
not been done by any battle during the campaign. Russell by relieving
Barcelona, which had been blockaded by two French fleets, had effaced
the defeat of Camaret Bay, and in the Netherlands, if there had been
no battle, there had been no repulse, as in every former campaign.
He had now no Mons, no Fleurus, no Namur, no Landen to deplore; on
the contrary, he had driven the French to their own frontiers without
the loss of a man. But he still deemed it necessary to continue their
exertions, and completely to reduce the French arrogance, and he called
for supplies as liberal as in the preceding year. The Customs Act was
about to expire, and he desired its renewal.

The Commons adjourned for a week, and before they met again Archbishop
Tillotson was taken suddenly ill whilst performing service in the
chapel at Whitehall, and died on the 22nd of November. With the
exception of the most violent Jacobites, who could not forgive him
taking the primacy whilst Sancroft was living, the archbishop was
universally and justly beloved and venerated. In the City especially,
where he had preached at St. Lawrence in the Jewry for nearly thirty
years, and where, as we have seen, his friend Firmin took care to have
his pulpit supplied with the most distinguished preachers during his
absence at Canterbury, he was enthusiastically admired as a preacher
and beloved as a man. The king and queen were greatly attached to him,
and William pronounced him, at his death, the best friend he ever had,
and the best man he ever knew.

Tillotson was succeeded by Dr. Tenison, Bishop of Lincoln. Mary was
very earnest for Stillingfleet; but even Stillingfleet was too High
Church for William. Could he, however, have foreseen that it was the
last request that the queen would ever make, he would, no doubt, have
complied with it. In a few weeks Mary herself was seized with illness.
She had been worn down by the anxieties of governing amid the feuds
of parties and the plottings of traitors during the King's absence,
and had now not strength to combat with a strong disease. The disease
was, moreover, the most fatal which then attacked the human frame--the
small-pox. No means had yet been discovered to arrest its ravages,
and in her case the physicians were for a time divided in opinion as
to its real character. One thought it measles, one scarlet fever,
another spotted fever, a fourth erysipelas. The famous Radcliffe at
once pronounced it small-pox. It was soon perceived that it would
prove fatal, and Dr. Tenison was selected to break the intelligence to
her. She received the solemn announcement with great fortitude and
composure. She instantly issued orders that no person, not even the
ladies of her bedchamber, should approach her if they had not already
had the complaint. She shut herself up for several hours in her closet,
during which she was busy burning papers and arranging others. Her
sister Anne, on being apprised of her danger, sent a message, offering
to come and see her; but she thanked her, and replied that she thought
she had better not. But Mary sent her a friendly message, expressing
her forgiveness of whatever she might have thought unkindness in Anne.

In everything else the very enemies of Mary were compelled to praise
her. She was tall, handsome, and dignified in person, yet of the most
mild and amiable manners; strong in her judgment, quick in perceiving
the right, anxious to do it, warm in her attachment to her friends,
and most lenient towards her enemies. To her husband she was devotedly
attached; had the most profound confidence in his abilities, and was
more happy in regarding herself as his faithful wife than as joint
sovereign of the realm. William, on his part, had not avoided giving
her the mortification of seeing a mistress in his Court in the person
of Mrs. Villiers, yet she had borne it with a quiet dignity which did
her much credit; and now William showed that, cold as he was outwardly,
he was passionately attached to her. His grief was so excessive
that, when he knew that he must lose her, he fainted many times in
succession, and his own life even began to be despaired of. He would
not quit her bedside for a moment day or night till he was borne away
in a sinking state a short time before she expired. After her death he
shut himself up for some weeks, and scarcely saw any one, and attended
to no business, till it was feared that he would lose his reason.
During his illness he had called Burnet into his closet, and, bursting
into a passion of tears, he said, "he had been the happiest, and now he
was going to be the most miserable of men; that during the whole course
of their marriage he had never known a single fault in her. There was a
worth in her that no one knew beside himself."

Mary died on the 28th of December in the utmost peace after taking
the Sacrament, and William, deprived of his unselfish wife's support,
was left to carry on his great work alone. But apart from the loss of
popularity entailed by the death of so able and beloved a consort, it
cannot be said that William's position was altered by the death of his
wife; so completely was he the master-spirit.

CHAPTER XIV.

REIGN OF WILLIAM III. (_continued_).

The death of Queen Mary raised marvellously the hopes of the Jacobites
and the Court of St. Germains. Though the Jacobites had charged Mary
with ascending the throne contrary to the order of succession, they
now asserted that William had no right thereto, and that Mary's claim,
however weak, had been his only colourable plea for his usurpation.
Mary it was whose amiability and courtesy had reconciled the public
to the government of her husband. His gloomy and morose character and
manners, and his attachment to nothing but Holland and Dutchmen, they
said, had thoroughly disgusted the whole nation, and would now speedily
bring his reign to an end. He spent a great part of the year on the
Continent; Mary had managed affairs admirably in his absence, but who
was to manage them now? They must soon go into confusion, and the
people be glad to bring back their old monarch.

And truly the wholesale corruption of his Parliament and ministers
served to give some force to their anticipations. Hardly ever was
there a time when dishonesty and peculation, hideous as they have
been in some periods of our Government were more gross, general, and
unblushing than amongst the boasted Whigs who had brought about the
Revolution. From the highest to the lowest they were insatiably greedy,
unprincipled, and unpatriotic--if want of patriotism is evidenced by
abusing the institutions and betraying the honour of the nation. One
of the best of them died in April, 1695--George Saville, Marquis of
Halifax. He bore the name of "the Trimmer," but rather because parties
had changed than that he himself had changed. He had discouraged
extreme measures, especially such as were bloody and vindictive. He
had endeavoured to save the heads of both Stafford and Russell; he had
opposed the virulence of the Whigs in the days of the Popish plot, and
of the Tories in that of the Rye House Plot. But even he had not kept
himself free from intriguing with St. Germains. Compared, however, with
the unclean beasts that he left behind, he was a saint.

The tide of inquiry was now, however, flowing fast, and higher
delinquents were reached by it every day. In 1695 there was a charge
made against Sir John Trevor, Speaker of the House of Commons, for
receiving a bribe of one thousand guineas to ensure the passing of the
City Orphans Bill. This was a Bill to enable the Corporation of London
to make a sort of funded debt of the money of the orphans of freemen
which had been left in their charge, and which they had spent. To carry
this Bill, and cover their criminality, bribes had been given, not only
to Trevor, but to Hungerford, Chairman of the Grand Committee, and many
others. Trevor--who had been one of Judge Jeffreys' creatures--was
ejected from the Chair of the House, where he had long made a trade
of selling his influence to the amount of at least six thousand
pounds per annum, besides his salary of four thousand pounds. For his
insolence and greed he had become universally hated, and there was
great rejoicing over his exposure and expulsion from the House. Paul
Foley, the Chairman of the Committee of Inquiry, was elected Speaker
of the House in his stead; Hungerford was also expelled; Seymour came
into question. His overbearing manners had created him plenty of
enemies; and on his remarking on the irregular conduct of a member,
the indignant individual replied that it was "certainly wrong to talk
during a discussion, but it was far worse to take money for getting a
Bill passed." The hint thrown out was quickly seized, and on examining
the books of the East India Company, to which enormous bribery also
was traced, it was found that Seymour had received a bribe of ten
thousand pounds, but under the artful cover of selling him two hundred
tons of saltpetre for much less than its value. It was, moreover, sold
ostensibly to a man named Colston, but really to Seymour, so that
the House could not expel him, but a public mark was stamped on his
character.

[Illustration: WILLIAM PATERSON. (_Facsimile of the only known
Engraving._)]

But the examination of the books of the East India Company laid bare a
series of bribes of Ministers and Parliament men, which made all the
rest dwindle into insignificance. In previous years there were found
items in the books of one thousand two hundred and eighty-four pounds
and two thousand and ninety-six pounds; but in the past year, during
the great contest with the new Company, Sir Thomas Cook, who had been
empowered to bribe at his discretion, had expended on Ministers and
Members no less a sum than one hundred and sixty-seven thousand pounds.
Wharton, himself a most profligate man, pursued these inquiries on
the part of the Commons with untiring avidity. In order to damp this
inquiry, the guilty parties caused it to be whispered about that it
was best not to press the matter too far, as a large part of the money
might have been given to the King through Portland. But nothing could
stop the inquest, and it turned out that large sums had been offered to
the King but had been refused, and that fifty thousand pounds offered
to Portland had also been refused. Nottingham, too, had refused ten
thousand pounds, but others had not been so scrupulous. Cook declined
at first to disclose the names of those who had received the money,
but he was threatened with a Bill to compel him on terms which, had he
persisted, would have ruined him. He then offered to disclose all on
condition that a clause in the Bill should indemnify him against the
consequences of his disclosures. This was done, and Sir Basil Firebrace
was named as receiving a sum of forty thousand pounds. When pressed
to explain what had become of this money, the worthy knight fell into
great confusion and loss of memory; but he was obliged to account for
the cash, and then it came out that he had, through a Mr. Bates, paid
five thousand five hundred guineas to Caermarthen, now Duke of Leeds.
The duke denied having had the money, and then Bates said he had left
it with one Robarts, a foreign servant of the duke's, to count it out
for him, and this with the duke's permission. Robarts, however, was so
bad at counting coin, that he had taken half a year to do it in, and
only brought it back on the very morning that the Committee of Inquiry
was formed.

The duke did not deny that he had got all the money that he could
through Bates from the Company for others; but this, according to the
morals of that age, was considered quite pardonable. To take a bribe
himself was criminal if found out, to assist others in selling their
votes was venial. The Commons impeached the duke, but then his servant
Robarts was missing, and as Leeds insisted on his presence as evidence
for him, the impeachment remained uncarried out. In fact, William, who,
though suffering perpetually from the gross corruption all around him,
was always the first to screen great offenders, now hastened Parliament
to a conclusion.

In the following week the Scottish Parliament commenced its session
after an interval of two years. The Duke of Hamilton was dead, and
John Hay, Marquis of Tweeddale, was appointed Lord High Commissioner,
a man in years, and of fair character. The question which immediately
seized the attention of the Estates was the massacre of Glencoe. That
sanguinary affair had now come to the public knowledge in all its
perfidy and barbarity, and there was a vehement demand for inquiry and
for justice on the perpetrators. The facts which had reached the queen
long ago regarding this dark transaction had greatly shocked her, and
she had been earnest for a searching investigation; but William, who
must now have been aware that the matter would not bear the light very
well, had not been too desirous to urge it on. The Jacobites, however,
never ceased to declaim on the fearful theme; and the Presbyterians,
who hated the Master of Stair, who under James had been one of their
worst persecutors, and was a man without any real religion, were not
the less importunate for its unveiling. Seeing that the Parliament
would now have it dragged to the light, William made haste to make the
movement his own. He signed a Commission appointing Tweeddale its head,
and sent it down with all haste to Edinburgh. The Parliament expressed
great thanks to the king for this act of justice, but it deceived
nobody, for it was felt at once that no Commission would have issued
but for the public outcry, and it was now meant to take it out of the
earnest hands of the Estates, and defeat it as far as possible; and
this turned out to be the case. The report of the Commission was long
in appearing, and had not the Estates been very firm, it might have
been longer, and have been effectually emasculated, for the Lord High
Commissioner was on the point of sending it to William, who was now in
the Netherlands, and deeply immersed in the affairs of the campaign.
The Estates insisted on its immediate production, and Tweeddale was
compelled to obey. It then appeared that several of the Macdonalds
had been admitted to give their evidence on the atrocities committed
in their glen: and the conclusion was come to that it was a barbarous
murder. The king's warrant, however, was declared to have authorised
no such butchery, and the main blame was thrown on the Master of Stair
and the Earl of Breadalbane. Undoubtedly Sir John Dalrymple, the
Master of Stair, had urged on by his letter the massacre of the clan
with unflinching cruelty; but William contented himself with merely
dismissing him from his office.

To put the Scots Parliament into good humour, William promised them
through the Marquis of Tweeddale, that if they would pass an Act
establishing a colony in Africa, America, or any other part of the
world where it was open to the English rightfully to plant a colony, he
would grant them a charter with as full powers as he had done to the
subjects of his other dominions. This was, no doubt, in consequence of
a scheme agitated by Paterson, the originator of the Bank of England,
for founding a colony on the Isthmus of Darien, for trading between
the Atlantic and Pacific--forming, in fact, a link of commerce between
China and India, as well as the Spanish States on the Pacific coasts
and Europe. The Act, supposed to be drawn by Paterson himself, was
passed, and preparations begun for carrying the scheme into effect,
but the expedition did not sail till 1698. Parliament granted some
indulgence to the Episcopalians, by which seventy of their clergy
retained their livings, and voted a hundred and twenty thousand pounds
for the services of the State.

At the moment that William was about to set out for the Continent, a
plot for his assassination was discovered, but the conspirators were
not brought to trial till the following year.

William embarked on the 12th of May for Holland. Before going he
had appointed as Lords Justices to carry on the government in his
absence--Archbishop Tenison; Somers, Keeper of the Great Seal;
Pembroke, Keeper of the Privy Seal; Devonshire, the Lord Steward;
Dorset, the Lord Chamberlain; Shrewsbury, the Secretary of State; and
Godolphin, First Lord of the Treasury. There had also been a formal
reconciliation between him and the Princess Anne. Marlborough and his
wife were now all anxiety for this reconciliation. The queen being
gone, and William, from his infirmities, not being expected to reach
a long life, Marlborough saw Anne at once brought many degrees nearer
the throne. Instead of James ever returning, the crafty Marlborough
felt sure that, even if William did not succeed in retaining his
popularity, any change would seat, not James, but Anne on the throne.
It was his interest, therefore, to promote by all means Anne's chance
of succession, because, once on the throne, he felt that he should be
the ruling power. Anne was, therefore, induced by him and his countess
to write a conciliatory letter to William, proposing to wait on him
and endeavour to console him in his distress. This had not been done
without some difficulty and delay, but, when once effected, William
received the princess very cordially; gave her the greater part of the
late queen's jewels, restored all her honours, her name was once more
united in the prayers for the royal family, and the foreign ambassadors
presented themselves at her house. In one thing, however, Marlborough
was disappointed. William did not appoint Anne regent during his
absence, as he had hoped, because he knew that that would be simply
making Marlborough viceroy. The King still retained his dislike to
the Marlboroughs, and though he permitted them to reside again under
the same roof with the princess, he refused for some time to admit
Marlborough to kiss his hand in the circle at Kensington, and offered
him no renewal of his offices and command.

William entered on the campaign of 1695 under unusual advantages.
Louis of France had reduced his country to such distress that he
was now obliged to stand on the defensive. The people were loud in
their complaints all over France of the merciless exactions for the
continuance of the war. They were actually perishing of famine.
Barbessieux, the minister, was not able to devise resources like the
able Louvois, who was gone; and now Louis had lost by death the great
Marshal Luxemburg, who had won for him almost all his martial renown.
The forces in Flanders, deprived of their heroic and experienced head,
were badly supplied with provisions, badly recruited, and to make all
worse, Louis, as he had chosen his prime minister, now selected his
general--not from the men of real military talent, but from a courtier
and man of pleasure--Villeroi. He was a tall, handsome man, much
admired by the ladies, and a reckless gambler, but totally unfit to
cope with William in the field. Boufflers was still at the head of a
division of the army, but under Villeroi.

Louis was apprehensive that the Allies would make a push at Dunkirk.
He therefore ordered a new line to be drawn between the Lys and the
Scheldt, and every means to be taken to cover Dunkirk, Ypres, Tournai,
and Namur. William arrived in the camp of the Allies on the 5th of
July, and immediately marched against Villeroi, who retired behind
his lines between Ypres and Menin. He, however, detached ten thousand
men to support Boufflers, who had advanced as far as Pont d'Espières.
William then sent forward the Elector of Bavaria to confront Boufflers,
who also retired behind his lines, and the Elector passed the Scheldt,
and posted himself at Kirk. William, having thus driven the French to
the frontiers of Flanders, then despatched the Baron von Heyden from
the camp of the Elector of Bavaria, along with Ginkell, to invest
Namur. At the same time, leaving Vaudemont to confront the army of
Villeroi on the border of Flanders, William suddenly marched also
for Namur, the Brandenburgers having orders to advance from another
quarter. William's hope was, by this ably concerted plan, completely
to invest Namur before any fresh troops could be poured into it; but
Boufflers, perceiving his design, managed to throw himself into the
city with seven regiments of dragoons, by which the garrison was raised
to fifteen thousand men. Immediately on the heels of Boufflers arrived
William and the Elector, and encamped on both sides of the Sambre and
Meuse, thus investing the whole place.

They began to throw up their entrenchments on the 6th of July, under
the direction of the celebrated engineer, Cohorn. The city had always
been strong; it had been of late years made much stronger by Cohorn,
and since then the French had added to its defences. Its castle was
deemed impregnable; the town was full of provisions and of brave
soldiers, and it was regarded as a somewhat rash act in William to
attempt so formidable a fortress, with the chance of being taken in the
rear by Villeroi at the head of eighty thousand men. The moment that
Villeroi saw the object of William he began to put himself in motion
to attack Vaudemont, and, having beaten him, to, advance on Namur.
Vaudemont, however, began to fortify his camp, and Villeroi's vanguard
appearing at Dentreghem, he entrenched himself on both sides. Villeroi
made sure, nevertheless, of a complete victory over him, having such a
superiority of force, and he sent word to Louis that he would speedily
hear of a victory. But Vaudemont, perceiving another body of French
advancing from the Scheldt so as to enclose him, very adroitly drew
back, and made a retreat, much admired by military judges, to Ghent.
This he was able to effect through the cowardice of Louis's natural
son, the Duke of Maine. Villeroi accordingly advanced unopposed and
brutally bombarded Brussels.

[Illustration: FIVE-GUINEA PIECE OF WILLIAM.]

William was all this time--except for a few days when he was anxiously
observing the French proceedings before Brussels--prosecuting the
siege of Namur with a determined ardour which cost a terrible amount
of human lives. The trenches had been first opened on the 11th of
July, and the batteries on both sides commenced a furious fire. This
continued for a week, and on the 18th a storming party, headed by Lord
Cutts, consisting of five battalions of English, Scots, and Dutch,
attacked the works on the right of the counterscarp, supported by six
English battalions under General Fitzpatrick, whilst nine thousand
pioneers advanced on the left under General Salisch. Twelve hundred of
the Allies fell in this bloody action, whilst William, looking on in
exultation, thought not of their destruction, but of the bulldog valour
of the British soldiers, exclaiming to the Elector of Bavaria, "See my
brave English! See my brave English!" They drove in the enemy, though
at a terrible sacrifice.

On the 30th of July the Elector of Bavaria attacked Vauban's line
that surrounded the defences of the castle, and broke through it,
and reached even Cohorn's celebrated fort, under the eyes of Cohorn
himself, but could not effect a lodgment in it. On the 2nd of August
another party of grenadiers, headed by the dare-devil Lord Cutts,
attacked and lodged themselves on the second counterscarp. The
governor, Count Guiscard, now engaged to give up the town, time being
allowed for the garrison to retire into the citadel. This being done,
and the Allies having engaged to give up the one thousand five hundred
wounded men left below, on the 13th the bombardment of the fort
commenced with renewed fury. Both sides fought with the fanaticism of
courage, and committed great havoc on each other. Boufflers at length
attempted to cut his way through the besiegers in a headlong sally, but
was repulsed, and shut up again.

[Illustration: HALF-CROWN OF WILLIAM.]

At this crisis Villeroi's army had reached Fleurus, and fired ninety
pieces of cannon to apprise the besieged of their vicinity. William
immediately left the conduct of the siege to the Elector of Bavaria,
and drew out a strong force to confront Villeroi, who was reinforced by
a large body of troops from Germany. This was a most anxious moment to
the people of both England and France. The armies of the two nations
were drawn out against each other, and covered the plains of the Sambre
and the Meuse. Boufflers was urging Villeroi to strike a decisive
stroke for his deliverance and the rescue of Namur, and William had
Boufflers in the rear if he was beaten by Villeroi.

[Illustration: SURRENDER OF BOUFFLERS. (_See p._ 481.)]

At Versailles Louis was imploring heaven for victory, with all his
Court on their knees, confessing and receiving the Eucharist; and
in London the Jacobites, frantic with confident expectation that
now William would be annihilated, filled the town with all sorts of
horrible rumours and alarms. But after having faced each other for
three days, Villeroi saw that the position and numbers of the Allies
were too formidable, and he quietly decamped along the river Mehaigne
to Boneffe. As Boufflers was now left without hope of succour, the
Allies informed him of the retreat of Villeroi and summoned him to
surrender without occasioning more slaughter. But there was a tradition
in the French army that no marshal of France had ever capitulated, and
he stood out until the English, at the cost of two thousand men, had
effected a lodgment in the place.

Boufflers now demanded forty-eight hours to bury his dead, which was
granted him; and, in truth, he had need of it, for his trenches were
choked with the fallen, and his force was already reduced to about
one-third its original strength. When he entered the town, the garrison
mustered fifteen thousand men; now it was only about five thousand.
When the dead were buried, Boufflers offered to surrender in ten days
if he were not relieved before; but the Allies would not listen to
anything but an immediate surrender, and he complied, on condition
that the garrison should be allowed to march out with the honours
of war, but leaving the artillery and stores to the conquerors. The
Allies announced the surrender to Villeroi by the discharge of their
artillery, and by a running fire of all their musketry three times
repeated. He knew the meaning of it, and retreated towards Mons.

Accordingly, on the 26th of August, Boufflers marched forth with drums
beating and flags flying, William, the Elector of Bavaria, and all
the officers being assembled to witness this gratifying spectacle.
Boufflers lowered his sword in token of submission to the Elector of
Bavaria, and the troops marched on. Before Boufflers, however, passed
out of the trenches, Dykvelt informed him that he was the prisoner of
the King of England. Boufflers was highly enraged at what he regarded
as an act of gross perfidy; but he was informed that he was detained
in consequence of his sovereign having broken the cartel, and refused
to deliver up the captured garrisons of Dixmude and Deynze, and that
he was held as a hostage for the faithful discharge of the articles
agreed upon. There was no denying the perfidy of his king, which
had caused this incident, and Boufflers sent an express to inform
Louis, who immediately returned a promise that the garrisons should
be sent back, and Boufflers was forthwith released. On his return to
Fontainebleau, he was received by Louis as if he were a conqueror, and
created a duke, with a grant of money to enable him to support his new
rank. The capture of Namur was the great event of the campaign, and
spread exultation throughout all the countries of the Allies. It seemed
to wipe out the successive defeats of Mons, Fleurus, Landen, and the
former loss of Namur; it showed the Allies at length victorious, and
Louis discomfited and on the wane.

William arrived in London from Holland on the 20th of October. He
was received with acclamations, illuminations, and ringing of bells.
His progress through London and to Kensington was like that of a
conqueror. As if he were destined to take no rest, that very day the
Council was assembled, and it was concluded to dissolve Parliament.
William, however, had been enjoying relaxation at Loo, and no doubt
this question of the dissolution of Parliament had been discussed
and arranged prior to his arrival. It was deemed wiser to take the
nation at this moment when it was in a good humour, than to defer
the dissolution till the 25th of next March, when, by the Triennial
Act, Parliament must expire, and the public mind might be different.
Another motive was said to operate with William--the impeachment of
Leeds. William was always very reluctant to bring great delinquents to
justice; but in the case of Leeds there were causes for this reluctance
which we must respect. It was to Leeds, when he was yet Lord Danby,
that William owed his match with Mary, and Mary had ever had the
greatest regard for Leeds, who, on his part, had served her assiduously
during the king's absences. A new Parliament would not be likely to
take up again his impeachment, and, accordingly, the old one was
dissolved, and the new one called for the 22nd of November.

This announcement threw into full activity the newly acquired liberty
of the press. Since the Revolution, despite the restrictions of the
censorship, the press had been extremely busy, and when it was
obliged to work in secret, it had been all the more venomous. The
Jacobites had employed it to spread sedition and lies, but it now
came forward in favour of the king and the Constitution. There were
tracts on the election, and besides the old news-letters, there were
regular newspapers which advocated their own views, but with a decency
and moderation which surprised all parties. Amongst the pamphlets
was one--the last literary effort of Halifax--called, "Some Cautions
Offered to those who are to Choose Members," which gave some good
advice, especially not to choose lawyers, because they were in the
habit of pleading on both sides, and were sure to look after their own
advancement more than that of the country; nor officers in the army,
who, the writer thought, were out of place in Parliament, attempting
to do what no man ever can do--serve two masters. He also warned them
against pensioners and dependents on the Crown, who do not make good
representatives of the people; and against those who, for reasons best
known to themselves, had opposed the Triennial Bill. Finally, he bade
them seek honest Englishmen, but warned them that they were not very
easy to find. The constituencies followed his advice, and the Whig
party were victorious. Some of the members of the late Parliament
most opposed to Government were not returned--as Sir John Knight, for
Bristol, who had been so furious against William's favourite Dutchmen,
and Seymour, for Exeter. Neither could John Hampden, who had saved
his neck in the Rye House Plot by the loss of character, and had
since shown as much insolence in Parliament as he did meanness then,
get returned, and in his mortification he committed suicide--to such
degeneracy had fallen the grandson of the illustrious patriot.

When Parliament met on the 22nd, they chose Paul Foley as Speaker of
the Commons. The king, in his speech, again demanded large supplies for
the continuance of the war, and informed them that the funds granted
last Session had fallen far short of the expenses. This was by no
means agreeable news, and William well knew that there was a large
party in the country which complained loudly of this system of foreign
warfare, which, like a bottomless gulf, swallowed up all the resources
of the country. But he took care to flatter the national vanity by
praising the valour of the English soldiers, and by expressing his
confidence that England would never consent to the French king making
himself master of Europe, and that nothing but the power and bravery
of England could prevent it. He complained that his Civil List was
fixed so low that he could not live upon it; and, passing from his own
affairs, he recommended to their consideration the deplorable state of
the coinage.

When the address came to be considered, some strong speeches were
delivered against the enormous demands made by the king for this
continual war. Musgrave and Howe represented the nation as bleeding to
death under this Dutch vampyrism; but William had touched the right
chord in the national character, and an address of thanks and zealously
promised support was carried. The Commons likewise voted again above
five millions for the services of the year.

The first business which occupied the attention of the Commons was
the state of the currency. The old silver coin had become so clipped
and sweated that, on an average, it now possessed little more than
half its proper weight. The consequence was, all transactions in the
country were in a state of confusion, and the most oppressive frauds
were practised, especially on the poor. They were paid in this nominal
coin, but, when they offered it for the purchase of the articles of
life, the vendors refused to receive it at more than its intrinsic
worth, by which means the price of everything was nearly doubled. The
old hammered money was easily imitated, and whilst the clippers went on
diminishing the weight of the coin, the forgers were as busy producing
spurious imitations of it. The most terrible examples were made of such
coiners, till juries refused to send such numbers of them to be hanged.
All money-dealers received the coin only at its value by weight, but
paid it out by tale, and thus made enormous fortunes. The house of
Duncombe, Earls of Feversham, is said to have thus raised itself from
insignificance to a coronet.

The House of Lords, therefore, took up the subject of recoinage,
and invited the Commons to unite with them in it; but the Commons,
considering it a matter more properly belonging to them, went into a
committee of the whole House on the subject. The debate continued for
several days. There was a strong party opposed to recoinage, on the
ground that, if the silver coin were called in, there would be no money
to pay the soldiers abroad, nor for merchants to take up their bills
of exchange with; that the consequence would be universal stagnation
and misery. But at this rate the old coin must have stayed out so long
that literally there would none of it be left. It was resolved to have
a new coinage; but Lowndes, the Secretary of the Treasury, proposed
that the standard should be lowered--in fact, that a nominal instead
of a real value should be impressed upon it; that ninepence should be
called a shilling--as if thereby any greater value could be given to
it. This mode of raising the price of everything by lowering the value
of the coinage, which would now be laughed at by the merest tyro in
political economy, had then its partisans; but John Locke exploded
the whole delusion in a little tract written at the desire of Somers,
which showed all the inconveniences and injustice which would flow
from a lowered standard. There were, however, other difficulties to
be met, and these were, whether the Government or the public should
bear the loss of the clipped coin, and by what means it could best be
called in. If the Government bore the loss, and ordered all persons to
bring in their clipped coin and receive full-weighted coin instead,
that would be a direct premium on clipping, and all the coin would be
clipped before it was paid in. Somers proposed as a remedy to proclaim
that all the hammered coins should henceforth be taken by Government
only by weight; but that, after having been weighed within three days,
every one should take it back with a note authorising him to receive
the difference between the deficiency of weight and the full weight at
a future time. By this means Government would have suffered the loss.

Locke, on the contrary, proposed that Government should receive all
clipped coin up to a day to be announced, at full value; after that day
only at its value by weight; and something of this kind was carried
by Montague after a debate in the House. It was ordered that, after a
certain day, no clipped money should pass except in payment of taxes,
or as loans to Government. After another fixed day, no clipped money
should pass in any payment whatsoever; and that, on a third day, all
persons should bring in all their clipped money to be recoined, making
just what it would, and after that time clipped money should not be a
legal tender at any value, or be received at the Mint.

By this plan the holders of clipped money suffered part of the loss
where they could not be in time; but the public eventually bore the
greatest part of it, for a Bill was brought in to indemnify Government
for its share of the loss, by a duty on glass windows, which was
calculated to raise twelve hundred thousand pounds. This was the origin
of that window-tax which under William Pitt's Government grew to such a
nuisance.

In order to meet the demand for milled and unclipped coin to be given
in exchange for the clipped coin to be brought in, premiums were
offered of five per cent. on good milled money, and of threepence per
pound on all plate that should be brought in to be melted into the new
coins. The 4th of May, 1696, was fixed as the last day for receiving
the clipped money in payment of taxes; and early in February furnaces
were at work melting down the old coin into ingots, which were sent to
the Tower in readiness, and the coining began. Ten of these furnaces
were erected in a garden behind the Treasury; yet, in spite of every
endeavour to prevent inconvenience, the Jacobites managed to excite
great alarm in the minds of the people. There was a widespread panic
that there would be grave personal losses and wrongs, and that all
receipts of money would be stopped, and that there would be general
distress. The malcontents attacked Montague and the other ministers
in the House; the merchants demanded indemnification for the rise
which guineas had taken, namely, from twenty shillings and sixpence to
thirty shillings, in consequence of the scarcity of the silver coinage;
for a guinea now, instead of purchasing twenty shillings' worth of
their goods, would purchase one-third more; so that their stocks were
reduced one-third in value till the silver coinage was again plentiful.
Parliament, to remove this cause of complaint, inserted a clause in
the Bill, offering a premium on plate, fixing the price of a guinea at
two-and-twenty shillings. Still, however, people imagined that guineas
would be scarce, and so gold would rise, and hoarded them up, which
made them scarce. But Government worked manfully at the recoining.
Mints were set up at York, Bristol, Exeter, and Chester as well as in
London, and in less than twelve months the coinage was produced with
such success that the English currency, which had been the worst, was
now the best in Europe.

The Bill for regulating the trials for high treason was again brought
in, and, being still steadily refused by the Lords unless with their
clause for granting them the privilege of trying any of their order
by the whole House of Peers instead of by the Court of the Lord High
Steward, the Commons now gave way, allowed the clause, and the Bill
passed. It was ordered to come into force on the 25th of March next,
1696.

The year 1696 opened with a great Jacobite plot. James had tried the
effect of declarations proposing to protect the liberties of the
subject and the rights of the Established Church, and nobody believed
him, and with good reason. Seeing, therefore, that empty pretences
availed nothing, he thought seriously of invasion, and of something
worse--of preparing his way by the assassination of William. During the
winter of 1695-6 Louis fell into his schemes. In 1694 two emissaries,
Crosley and Parker, had been sent over from St. Germains to London to
excite the Jacobites to insurrection; but they had been discovered and
imprisoned. Parker contrived to escape out of the Tower, but Crosley
was examined; but, nothing being positively proved against him, he
was liberated on bail. It was now resolved to send over fresh and
more important agents--one of these no less a person than the Duke of
Berwick, James's son, and Sir George Barclay, a Scottish refugee.

The fact was that there were two parts of the scheme. As in the
conspiracy of Grey and Raleigh in the time of James I., there was "the
main plot" and "the bye plot," so there was here a general scheme for
an invasion, and a particular scheme for the assassination of the king.
This assassination was to come off first, and an army and transports
were to be ready on the French coast, to take advantage of the
consternation occasioned by the murder. The management of the general
plot was confided to Berwick, and of the murder plot to Barclay.
Berwick must be supposed to have been well aware of the assassination
scheme from the first, for both James and Louis were, and the whole
movements of the army and navy were dependent on it. But if Berwick did
not know of it at first, he was made acquainted with it in London, as
we shall see; but it was the policy of both Louis, James, and Berwick,
to avoid all appearance of a knowledge which would have covered them
with infamy;--this was to fall on the lesser tools of their diabolical
scheme, and they were to reap the benefit of it.

A mode of communication between the Court of St. Germains and the
Jacobites in England had long been established through a man named
Hunt, who was a noted smuggler. This man had a house about half a mile
from the Sussex coast, on Romney Marsh. The whole country round was a
boggy and dreary waste, and therefore, having scarcely an inhabitant,
was admirably adapted to the smuggling in of French goods and French
plots. There Barclay landed in January and proceeded to London. He
was followed in a few days by the Duke of Berwick, and very soon by
about twenty coadjutors, some of whom were troopers of James's guard,
amongst them one named Cassels, another brigadier Ambrose Rookwood, one
of a family which had been in almost every plot since the Gunpowder
Plot, and a Major John Bernardi, a man of Italian origin.

[Illustration: CONSPIRATORS LANDING AT ROMNEY MARSH. (_See p._ 484.)]

James saw and instructed many of these men himself before they left St.
Germains, and furnished them with funds. He had given Barclay eight
hundred pounds to pay expenses and engage assistants, which Barclay
complained of as a miserable and insufficient sum. These men were now
informed that they must put themselves under the orders of Barclay,
and they would easily discover him at evening walking in the piazza
of Covent Garden, and might recognise him by his white handkerchief
hanging from his pocket. Meanwhile, Barclay had begun to open
communication with the most determined Jacobites. The first of these
were Charnock--who had originally been a fellow of Magdalen College,
Oxford, but had apostatised, become a violent papistical agitator, and
finally an officer in James's army--and Sir William Parkyns, a lawyer
and officer of the Court of Chancery, for whilst plotting against the
king, he had sworn fidelity to him, and was receiving his pay. These
men most gladly united with Barclay, for they had been engaged in the
very same design for some time. They assured him that there was no
chance of effecting an invasion without preceding it by dispatching
William. But to do this they wanted first an authority from James, and
to be assured that it would be followed up. Hereupon Barclay showed
them his commission from James.

As Barclay's myrmidons arrived from France his hopes grew high; he
called them his Janissaries, and said he trusted they would win a Star
and Garter for him. He wanted forty for his purposes, and these men
made up at once half the number. Fresh desperadoes rapidly joined the
band, until it was evident that the number of conspirators was getting
far too numerous, and far too indiscriminate in character for safety.
It was necessary to use haste, and Barclay tells us he was constantly
studying how and where best to accomplish their object. He set two of
his gang to haunt the neighbourhood of the Palace, and to learn what
they could of the king's movements. They went to Kensington and to
every place which William frequented, to find out the most suitable
spot and opportunity.

At last the conspirators fixed on Turnham Green as the best for their
detestable purpose. They learned that when William returned from
hunting he crossed the Thames there by the ferry-boat, not getting out
of his carriage, and that he did not wait for his Guards, but drove on
from the water side till they overtook him. It was a low, swampy place,
hidden amongst bushes at the western end of the Green. The conspirators
were now thirty-five, while the King had rarely more than twenty-five
Guards with him. The day fixed was Saturday, the 15th of February,
for it was on Saturdays that William made these hunting excursions.
As soon as they knew that the king had started, the conspirators were
to follow in different bodies, and from different directions, so as
to avoid observation. They were to remain at small public-houses near
the crossing-place, and as soon as their scouts gave them notice of
the king's party approaching the Surrey side of the river, they were
to put themselves in bylanes, to be ready to intercept him. They were
to be divided into four sets, one headed by Porter, one by Charnock, a
third by Rookwood, and the fourth by Barclay himself. Two parties were
simultaneously to rush upon the coach as it passed a cross road, one
from each side; Rookwood was to come from his hiding-place in the rear,
and Barclay to appear in front, and to him the death of the King was
assigned. Horses and arms were purchased by Barclay for the occasion,
and the horses were kept in different stables, so as to excite no
suspicion.

All was now in readiness. The Duke of Berwick had remained in London
till matters were in this position. He had been equally busy in
endeavouring to induce the Jacobite leaders to rise in arms. He told
them that his father, with ten thousand soldiers, was lying at Calais
ready to cross when this movement was made, but that the King of
France would not consent to the army crossing till the English had
given proof of their being in earnest to receive King James in arms.
Nor could they think this unreasonable; he had twice sent expeditions
to co-operate with them, once in 1690, when De Tourville landed in
Devonshire, and again in 1692, when his fleet had come up to the very
shore in expectation of being joined by the English fleet, but, on the
contrary, had been attacked by that fleet, and the losses at La Hogue
suffered in consequence. They could not expect Louis to venture his
ships and troops again till he saw a real demonstration for James in
England; then his army would cross at once. But these representations
were all lost on the Jacobites; they continued to say, "Only let James
land with an army, and we shall be ready to join him." Berwick returned
to France, and hastened to inform James, whom he met on the way to
Calais to join the invading army, that there was no chance of a rising
in England till a French army landed, but that he had a confident hope
that the conspirators would succeed in dispatching William, and then
would be the time to cross over. James went on to Calais to the army
which Boufflers was called from Flanders to command, and Berwick went
on to Versailles to communicate to Louis the state of affairs, and all
parties waited for the falling of the blow in England.

Such was now the position of these two monarchs and the Duke of
Berwick, whom the Jacobite writers have so confidently endeavoured
to clear of the crime of participating in this base scheme of
assassination. True, Berwick, whilst in England, would have nothing
to do with the conspiracy itself, because, he declared, it was--not
criminal, no, that was not his objection--but it was too dangerous, and
would probably cause all engaged in it to be hanged. On the safe side
of the water, therefore, whilst the humbler ruffians were risking their
necks for them, these three arch assassins waited for the signal that
the deed was done--a fire which was to be lit on one of the Kentish
hills.

Meanwhile the conspiracy was suffering, as might have been expected,
from the admission of too many colleagues. As the time approached,
Fisher, who had boasted that he would himself kill one of the king's
coach-horses, went and informed Portland that there was a design of
taking the king's life. Portland at first paid little attention to this
information, but it was soon confirmed in a manner which left him no
alternative but to apprise the king of it. On the evening of the 14th a
Mr. Pendergrass, a Catholic gentleman of Hampshire, waited on Portland,
and assured him that if the king went on the morrow to hunt he was
certain to be assassinated. Pendergrass said the king was the enemy of
his religion, but that his religion would not permit him to see such
a thing done without giving him a warning, and he entreated Portland
to induce the king not to go out on any account. When pressed to name
his accomplices, he declined, saying they were his friends, and one
of them his benefactor; he would not betray them. The fact was, that
Porter had sent for Pendergrass up from the country to take part in the
assassination; but, though he was under great obligations to Porter, he
refused. He would have been ready to unite in an invasion, but not in a
murder.

The king was with difficulty prevented by Portland from going, but he
did stay, and when it was announced to the conspirators that the king
had given up hunting for that day, they were a good deal startled; but,
as the weather was assigned as the cause, they imagined they were still
unbetrayed, and waited for the next Saturday; one of them, Chambers,
a great ruffian, who had been severely wounded at the battle of the
Boyne, and had a savage malice against William, vowing to have his life
yet or lose his own.

Between this day and the next Saturday, however, De la Rue had grown
afraid, and went and gave a warning similar to Pendergrass's. On the
Friday Pendergrass was sent for to the king's closet, where William
was alone with Portland and Lord Cutts, who had fought so bravely at
Namur. William was very courteous to Pendergrass, and thanked him for
his information, complimented him as a man of honour, but desired him
to name the conspirators. Pendergrass persisted in his refusal, except
he had the king's assurance that his information should not cause the
destruction of these men, but only be used to prevent the commission
of the crime. This assurance being solemnly given, he named them. It
does not, however, appear that this solemn assurance was kept, for
undoubtedly Pendergrass's information was used for the arrest of the
conspirators, and though he himself was not brought openly forward
in court against them, they were condemned and executed through that
means, so that not using his evidence openly was a mere quibble; and
even this was laid aside as soon as, at Pendergrass's demand, they had
engaged to use Porter's evidence on condition of his safety.

Ignorant of the mine ready charged under their feet, the conspirators
anxiously awaited Saturday, the 22nd. This time all outwardly bade
fair for success; the usual preparations were made at the palace for
the hunting. There had been during the week no sign of any agitation
or bustle, nor word dropped which could give the slightest suspicion
that their design was known. The Guards were sent off to go round
by Kingston Bridge to Richmond, as there was then no bridge nearer.
The king's coach came out to take him away, and the conspirators were
breakfasting at Porter's lodgings when word was hurriedly brought
to them that the coach had been sent back to the stables, and the
Guards had come galloping back, saying that a discovery of something
terrible had been made. If the men had not been infatuated by their
zeal for the assassination, as is very general in such cases, they
would now have made the best of their way into some place of security.
The return of the Guards in such hurry, and with such rash words, was
not very skilful on the part of the Government if they meant to take
the conspirators; and, as the arrests were delayed till night, there
was ample time for them to have all got off. But they still flattered
themselves that, though some whisper of the design had reached the
Palace, the actual conspirators were unknown, and they were only the
more bent on seizing some instant mode of accomplishing their object.

That night the king's officers were upon them, and Charnock, Rookwood,
and Bernardi were taken in their beds. The next day seventeen more
were arrested, and three of the Blues also. Barclay had had more
cunning than the rest; he had absconded and got safe to France. The
Lord Mayor was sent for to Whitehall, and desired to put the City
into a perfect state of readiness for action. A council was held; it
was agreed to send for some regiments from Flanders in consequence of
the preparations at Calais; the Earl of Dorset was sent down to his
lieutenancy of Sussex; Sidney, Lord Romney, Warden of the Cinque Ports,
was also despatched for the guard of the coast of Kent; and Russell
hastened to assume the command of the fleet. On Monday, the 24th, the
king went to the House of Lords, sent for the Commons, and announced
to the assembled Parliament the discovery of the plot, and the arrest
of a number of the traitors. The sensation was intense. The two Houses
united in an address of congratulation for the king's safety, with
which they went in a body to Kensington, and the same day the Commons
passed two Bills, one suspending the Habeas Corpus, and the other
declaring that Parliament should not be dissolved by the king's death
in case any such conspiracy should succeed. Sir Rowland Gwyn moved
that the House should enrol itself as an Association for the defence
of the king and country. The idea was instantly seized by Montague,
who saw how immensely it would strengthen the Whigs, and the deed
was immediately drawn, and ordered to be ready for signature the next
morning. In this the House bound itself to defend the king with their
own lives against James and his adherents, and to avenge him on his
murderers in case of such an assassination, and to maintain the order
of succession as fixed by the Bill of Rights.

The next morning the members hurried in to sign the form of
Association; and, as some were not present, it was ordered that all
who had not signed it within sixteen days should be called upon to
do so or formally to refuse. They resolved that any one who declared
the Association illegal should be held to be a promoter of the wicked
designs of James, and an enemy to the laws and liberties of the
country. They prayed the king to banish by proclamation all Papists to
a distance of ten miles from the cities of London and Westminster, and
to order the judges to put the laws in force throughout the country
against Roman Catholics and non-jurors.

The forms of the Association and the address of the two Houses were
immediately printed and published, along with a proclamation offering
one thousand pounds reward for the discovery and apprehension of each
of the conspirators, and one thousand pounds, with a free pardon,
to each of the accomplices who should deliver himself up and reveal
what he knew. One after another the miscreants were dragged from
their hiding-places, or gave themselves up as king's evidence for the
thousand pounds and free pardon.

On the 11th of March, Charnock and two others were placed at the bar
of the Old Bailey before Lord Chief Justice Holt and other judges. The
prisoners demanded that their trials should be postponed till after the
25th of the month, when the new Act for trials for treason came into
force, and which allowed counsel to the accused; but the counsel for
the Crown would not consent to it--a circumstance which does no honour
to William and his ministers, for from them the order to proceed must
now have been given. All the accused denied that James knew of or had
done anything to sanction the attempt to assassinate the king; but
this assertion neither agrees with the depositions made by the other
conspirators admitted as evidence, nor with the facts of the case; and,
indeed, Charnock left a paper, still in the Bodleian Library of Oxford,
in which he declares that the attempt would not have been justifiable
had it not been sanctioned by James; that his Majesty's commission did
fully justify it, and that it was just as proper to attempt to kill
the Prince of Orange at the head of his Guards, serving as they did the
king whose throne he had usurped, and who was at war with him, as if
he had been at the head of twenty thousand men. They had their king's
commission for it, and their king being at declared war, it was quite
legitimate to attack and kill William wherever they could meet with
him. Despite this high assumption, Charnock, after conviction, offered,
if they would pardon him, to reveal the whole particulars of the plot,
and the names of every one concerned in it; but there was evidence
enough; his offer was not accepted, and the three were executed at
Tyburn on the 24th.

The Association into which the Commons had entered for the defence
of the king had not yet been made law, but a Bill was now brought in
for that purpose. Out of the five hundred and thirteen members of the
Commons, four hundred had signed it; but on its reaching the Lords
exception was made by the Tories to the words "rightful and lawful
sovereign" as applied to William. Even Nottingham, who had so long and
faithfully served William, declared that he could not accept them;
that William was king _de facto_ he admitted, but not king by rightful
succession. He was supported by Rochester, Normanby, and others; but on
the Duke of Leeds proposing that the words "rightful and lawful" should
be altered to "having right by law," and no other person having such
right, singularly enough the Tories acquiesced in the change, though
it would not be easy for minds in general to perceive a distinction
between being a rightful and lawful sovereign and a sovereign who had
a full and, indeed, exclusive right by law. The Commons retained their
own form and the Lords theirs. The Bill of the Commons was passed on
the 4th of April. It provided that all such persons as refused the
oaths to his Majesty should be liable to the forfeitures and penalties
of Papist recusants; that all who questioned William's being "a lawful
and rightful sovereign" should be subject to heavy penalties; that no
person refusing to sign this Association should be capable of holding
any office, civil or military, of sitting in Parliament, or being
admitted into the service of the Prince or Princess of Denmark. All
magistrates, of course, were included in the requirements, and some who
refused to sign were dismissed. The Lords were to use their own form,
and with this understanding it passed their House without delay. The
bishops drew up a form for themselves, and, according to Burnet, not
above a hundred clergymen all over England refused to sign. The people
everywhere signed the bond with almost universal enthusiasm, even in
the most Papist districts, as Lancashire and Cheshire.

[Illustration: BISHOP BURNET.]

Before this remarkable session closed, a Bill was brought in to check
the corruption of elections. It had now become common for moneyed men
to go down to country boroughs and buy their way into Parliament by
liberal distribution of their gold. It was, therefore, proposed to
introduce a property qualification for members of Parliament; that a
member for a county should be required to possess five hundred pounds
a year in land, and a member for a town three hundred pounds a year in
land. It was even proposed to adopt the ballot, but that was rejected.
The Bill itself was carried through both Houses, but William declined
to ratify it. The towns abounded with Whigs, and had stood stoutly by
him, and it appeared to be a sweeping infringement on their privileges
to debar them from electing men in whom they had confidence because
they were not landed proprietors, though they might otherwise be
wealthy as well as duly qualified for such duties.

He ratified, however, another Bill intended for the benefit of the
landed gentry. This was for the establishment of Hugh Chamberlayne's
Land Bank. Unsound and delusive as the principles of this scheme
were, it had the great attraction to the landowners of offering them
extensive accommodation and a fancied accession of wealth, and to
William the further advance of a large sum for his wars. The Bank of
England had only furnished him with one million at eight per cent.;
this Land Bank was to lend him two millions and a half at seven per
cent. It was ratified by William, and the Parliament was prorogued the
same day, April the 27th.

At home the confusion and distress were indescribable, and lasted all
the year. In the spring and till autumn it was a complete national
agony. The last day for the payment of the clipped coin into the
Treasury was the 4th of May. As that day approached there was a violent
rush to the Exchequer to pay in the old coin and get new. But there
was very little new ready, and all old coin that was not clipped was
compelled to be allowed to remain out some time longer. Notwithstanding
this, the deficiency of circulating medium was so great that even men
of large estate had to give promissory notes for paying old debts, and
take credit for procuring the necessaries of life. The notes of the
new Bank of England and of the Lombard Street money-changers gave also
considerable relief; but the whole amount of notes and coin did not
suffice to carry on the business of the nation. Numbers of work-people
of all kinds were turned off because their employers had not money to
pay them with. The shopkeepers could not afford to give credit to every
one, and, as their trade stagnated in consequence, they were compelled
to sacrifice their commodities to raise the necessary sums to satisfy
their own creditors. There was a heavy demand on the poor rates, and
the magistrates had orders to have sufficient force in readiness to
keep down rioting. This distress was aggravated by those who had new
milled money, hoarding it up lest they should get no more of it, or in
expectation that its scarcity would raise its value enormously, and
that they could pay their debts to a great advantage, or purchase what
they wanted at still greater advantage.

The Jacobites were delighted with this state of things, and did all
they could to inflame the people against the Government, which they
said had thus needlessly plunged the nation in such extreme suffering.
There were numbers of exciting tracts issued for this purpose, and
especially by a depraved priest named Grascombe, who urged the people
to kill the members of Parliament who had advocated the calling in
of the silver coin. To make the calamity perfect, the Land Bank had
proved as complete a bubble as Montague and other men of discernment
had declared it would. The landed gentry wanted to borrow from it, not
to invest in it; its shares remained untaken; and it found, when the
Government demanded the two million six hundred thousand pounds which
it had pledged itself to advance, that its coffers were empty; and it
ceased to exist, or rather to pretend to have any life.

The bursting of the Land Bank bubble was severely trying to the new
Bank of England. The failure of the one alarmed the public as to the
stability of the other, and the Jacobites and the Lombard Street rival
money-lenders lent their cordial aid to increase the panic. The Lombard
Street bankers made a vigorous run upon the bank. They collected all
its paper that they could lay hands on, and demanded instant payment
in hard cash. Immediately after the 4th of May, when the Government
had taken in the bulk of the money, and had issued out very little,
they made a dead set against the bank. One goldsmith alone presented
thirty thousand pounds in notes. The bank resolved to refuse the
payment of the notes thus obviously presented in order to ruin it, and
then the Lombard Street bankers exultingly announced everywhere that
the boasted new institution was insolvent. But the bank, leaving the
Lombard Street goldsmiths to seek a remedy at law, continued to give
cash for all notes presented by the fair creditors, and the public
steadily supported them in this system, and condemned the selfish
money-dealers. Montague also contrived to relieve the tightness to a
considerable extent by availing himself of a clause in the Act of the
Land Bank, empowering Government to issue a new species of promissory
notes, bearing interest on security of the annual taxes. These bills,
called now and henceforward Exchequer Bills, were issued from a hundred
pounds to five pounds, and were everywhere received with avidity. They
also urged on the mints in the production of the new coinage, and to
facilitate this they made Sir Isaac Newton Master of the Mint, who
exerted himself in his important office with extraordinary zeal and
patriotism.

In August, William sent Portland over from Flanders, where the campaign
was almost wholly barren of events, to bring him money for the
subsistence of his troops by some means. The failure of the Land Bank
made his demand appear hopeless; but the Government applied to the Bank
of England, and, notwithstanding it's own embarrassments, it advanced
to the Government two hundred thousand pounds on the 15th of August,
and that in hard cash, for it was plainly told that its paper was of
no use in Flanders. Yet to such extremities was the bank reduced that
at the same time it was obliged to pay its demands by three-fourths
the value of its notes in cash, marking that amount as paid on the
notes, and returning them into circulation reduced to one-fourth of
their original value. As the bank, however, so bravely supported the
Government, the Government determined as firmly to support the bank;
and the public confidence, which had never entirely failed it, from
this moment grew stronger and stronger. As the year drew towards a
close, the rapidly increasing issue of the new coin began to reduce
the intensity of the distress, and the forbearance of creditors of all
kinds enabled the nation to bear up wonderfully, much to the chagrin of
its enemies both at home and abroad, where the most ridiculous stories
of English poverty and ruin were circulated.

But, except the trouble arising from the coinage, the great event
during William's absence had been the capture of Sir John Fenwick, and
his examination, with the view of tracing the further ramifications of
the conspiracy in which he had been engaged. Fenwick, if not engaged in
the assassination scheme, was charged by Porter and the other king's
evidence with being fully privy to it, and deep in the plot for the
invasion. He was a man of high birth, high connections, being married
to a sister of the Earl of Carlisle, had held high office in the state,
and was a most indefatigable and zealous traitor. During the king's
absence, and when the Jacobites were in great spirits, hoping to drive
out William, he had shown the most marked and unmanly disrespect to
the queen. It was not, therefore, likely that he would escape the just
punishment of his treason if he were caught. For a long time he managed
to conceal himself, and during his concealment he and his friends were
hard at work to remove the only witnesses that he dreaded. These were
Porter and a person named Goodman. The Earl of Aylesbury, who was
also in the Tower on a similar charge, was equally anxious to have
these two men out of the way, and the friends of both plotters united
to get rid of them by bribery. For this purpose, besides the active
personal exertions of Lady Fenwick, they employed two Irishmen of their
party--one Clancey, a barber, and Donelagh, a disbanded captain.

Clancey met Porter at a tavern, and offered him three hundred guineas
down, three hundred more as soon as he landed in France, and an
annuity of one hundred pounds a year. Porter was greatly tempted by
the offer, and at length consented to accept it. A day was fixed for
the payment of the first three hundred guineas at the tavern, but, on
reflection in the interval, he did not like the prospect of having to
face at St. Germains the king whose agents he had betrayed to death,
and the friends and associates of those agents. He saw that nothing
could obtain their forgiveness, or prevent them from taking mortal
revenge on him. He therefore posted to the Secretary of State, and
revealed the whole affair. The necessary measures were taken, and
Porter attended punctually at the meeting with Clancey. He received
the three hundred guineas, and then, giving a concerted signal, the
officers of Government rushed in and secured Clancey, who was tried for
subornation, convicted, and set in the pillory.

This discovery, through the double treachery of Porter, alarmed
Fenwick for his personal safety. He no longer deemed himself secure
in the kingdom, for he had taken such part in the attempt to win over
Porter--writing a letter for him to take with him to St. Germains
to secure his good reception there--that it was too obvious that he
was not far off. Porter was indemnified for his loss of the promised
annuity by a much better one from William's government--no less
than two hundred and fifty pounds a year--and would undoubtedly,
if possible, hunt out Fenwick. Sir John, therefore, made prompt
arrangements for his own escape to France. There was no time to be
lost; he was indicted at the next sessions in the City for treason.
Porter and Goodman gave evidence before the grand jury, who returned
a true bill. Sir John managed to escape to near Romney Marsh, where a
vessel was to take him off, but, unfortunately, on the way he met an
officer, who had been apprehending two smugglers. The man knew him, and
offered the smugglers a pardon and reward to assist in seizing him. Sir
John fled, and they pursued; and he is said to have been taken in the
end near Slyfield Mill, between Stoke Dabernon and Bookham, in Surrey.

Sir John had contrived, after being taken, to write a letter to his
wife, by one Webber who was with him, in which he declared that all
was now over unless she could get her relatives, the Howards, to
intercede for him. They might promise for him that he would spend his
life abroad, and would pledge himself never to draw a sword against the
present government. If that could not be done, the only chance left was
to bribe a juryman to starve out the jury.

This letter was intercepted, and when Sir John was brought before the
Lords Justices at Whitehall, and he appeared very high, and denied the
charges against him indignantly, it was laid before him to his sudden
terror and confusion. He saw how completely he had committed himself by
his confession, and he turned pale, and seemed half inclined to admit
his guilt. In the silence of his prison he revolved another scheme, and
on the 10th of August, two months after his apprehension, he presented
a memorial to the Duke of Devonshire, offering to disclose to the king
all that he knew of the plots, with every one concerned in them, and
throwing himself on the mercy of the king. Having so fully betrayed his
own guilt, this seemed the only chance of obtaining a lenient judgment.
Devonshire sent over the memorial to William in Holland, and was
desired by him to receive Fenwick's confession.

[Illustration: OLD MERCERS' HALL, WHERE THE BANK OF ENGLAND WAS FIRST
ESTABLISHED.]

This was in due time written down and delivered, and, had it been a
real revelation of the plots and their agents, would have probably
obtained considerable indulgence for him. But it disclosed nothing
that was not already well known to William. Passing over all the other
parties who were secretly engaged in labouring for the overthrow of
William's government and the restoration of James--persons whose names
and doings would have been of the utmost value to the Government--he
merely accused Marlborough, Russell, Godolphin, and Shrewsbury. The
intrigues of all these were far more familiar to William and his
intimate friends than they were to Fenwick. William and Devonshire
were disappointed. The whole thing had the air of a ruse to hide the
still undiscovered delinquents, and make a merit of a stale and useless
piece of information. Devonshire, on forwarding the list, observed
that, whatever these noblemen had been, they were, to all appearance,
very firm to the king now. William, on reading Fenwick's paper, was
incensed. "I am astonished," he wrote to Shrewsbury, "at the fellow's
effrontery. Observe this honest man's sincerity: he has nothing to say,
except against my friends. Not a word about the plans of his brother
Jacobites." He ordered the prisoner to be brought to trial without
delay.

Fenwick, in fact, had only insured his own doom. He probably thought
William was not aware of the double-dealing of his own ministers,
and that he should be able to throw a bombshell into the Whig camp,
while he screened his own fellow-seditionists; but he found he had
to deal with a man much more sagacious than himself. William ordered
the confession of Sir John to be laid before the Lords Justices, and
himself acquainted some of the accused of what it contained, and
expressed his contempt of it. Marlborough and Russell, if they had not
before made up their minds to avoid any further tampering with St.
Germains, seem from this moment to have done so. It was clear their
secret was not only well known to William, but, pretty generally, to
the agents of James. Marlborough, however, took it calmly; Russell made
a great pretence of innocence, and demanded inquiry. Shrewsbury alone
seemed dismayed and overcome by it. He wrote to William, admitting that
Lord Middleton, James's secretary, had been over several times, and
had visited him, but this he attributed to their nearness of kinship.
He said--"One night at supper, when he was pretty well in drink, he
told me he intended to go beyond seas, and asked me if I could command
him no service. I then told him, by the course he was taking, it would
never be in his power to do himself or his friends service; and if the
time should come that he expected, I looked upon myself as an offender
not to be forgiven." Shrewsbury added that perhaps these accusations
"might render him incapable of serving William"--meaning that he might
not think him fit to retain the Seals under such a suspicion by the
public, but that, if he could not answer for the generality of the
world, yet the noble and frank manner in which his Majesty had used him
on that occasion would ever be acknowledged by him with all gratitude.

[Illustration: LADY FENWICK INTERCEDING FOR HER HUSBAND. (_See p._
496.)]

Fenwick, perceiving the fatal blunder that he had made, sent in a
second confession; but this appeared rather to absolve James and his
adherents from any knowledge of the baser plan of assassination, and
from having sanctioned the scheme of seizing William's person, than
to throw any new light on the real workers in the treason. Things
were in this position when William returned on the 6th of October. The
courtiers at once flocked to Kensington to pay their respects to his
majesty, and amongst them the noblemen who had been so deeply accused
by Fenwick, with the single exception of Shrewsbury. William received
them all most graciously, and asked where Shrewsbury was. He was
informed that he was ill, and the next day the duke himself wrote to
say that he had had a fall from his horse, had received considerable
injury, and was incapable of travelling. But the king and the other
ministers well knew that the real cause was his extreme sensitiveness,
which made him ashamed to face his sovereign after the discovery of his
delinquency; and both they and William wrote to urge his appearance at
Court as soon as possible. William said--"You are much wanted here. I
am impatient to embrace you, and to assure you that my esteem for you
is undiminished." Somers wrote to him that unless he appeared in his
place at Court it would convince the public that he felt the justice of
Fenwick's charge.

But Shrewsbury, whose mind so readily preyed on itself, could not bring
himself to face the king, and sent to request leave to resign the
Seals. With a magnanimity wonderfully different to that of Henry VIII.,
who would have had all these nobles' heads off in a few days, William
would not hear of his resignation, telling the duke that it would bring
the worst suspicions on him; and, more on Shrewsbury's account than his
own, he insisted on his keeping the Seals. At length he consented, but
still dared not go to town, but remained in the seclusion of his home
amongst the wilds of Gloucestershire.

On the 20th of October William opened the session of Parliament with
a speech in which he reviewed the troubles and difficulties of the
past year. He admitted the distress which the endeavours to restore
the coinage to a healthy state had occasioned; the pressure caused by
the limited coinage being yet only partly relieved. He avowed that
the liberal funds voted in the last session had fallen far short of
the public needs, and that the Civil List could not be maintained
without further aid; but, on the other hand, he contended that they
had many causes of congratulation. Abroad the enemy had obtained no
advantage, and at home the fortitude and temper with which the nation
had struggled through the hardships attending the recoinage--increased
as these had been by the fears or selfishness of those who had hoarded
their money--were admirable. A little time must bear them through this,
and he had to inform them that he had received overtures of peace from
France. He should be prepared to accept proper terms, but the way to
obtain them was to treat sword in hand. He therefore recommended them
to be at once liberal and prompt in voting the supplies. He recommended
to their sympathy the French Protestants, who were in a most miserable
condition, and he trusted to their taking efficient measures for the
maintenance of the public credit.

The Commons, on retiring to their House, at the instance of Montague,
the Chancellor of the Exchequer, passed three resolutions, which
demonstrated the confidence of the country in the Government, and
constituted in themselves the most absolute defeat of all the grumblers
and malcontents possible. Montague had advocated the Bank of England;
that had succeeded. He had denounced the scheme of the Land Bank;
that had proved, as he declared it to be, a delusion, and had brought
ruin on its projectors. He had carried the plans of Government for
the restoration of the coinage stoutly through the most unexampled
crises. When the paper of the Bank of England was fluctuating in value,
the enemies of Government casting suspicion on it, so that it would
occasionally sink one-fourth of its value in the course of a single
day; when both the Allies and the enemies of England fancied that her
credit was gone and her resources exhausted, Montague knew better,
and by his spirit and eloquence kept the machine of Government going,
and now he reached a point of unquestionable triumph. The credit of
the country was no longer falling, but rising; the coinage was fast
assuming a position which it had never enjoyed for ages, and the
confidence of Parliament displayed itself in its votes. The resolutions
which confounded the adversaries of William's Government, and which
have often been referred to as motives for encouragement in periods
of Governmental distress, were these:--First, that the Commons would
support the king against all foreign and domestic enemies; secondly,
that the standard of gold and silver should not be altered; thirdly,
that they would make good all Parliamentary funds established since
the king's succession. An address was passed on the basis of these
resolutions, which was followed by another from the Lords, and the
Commons proceeded in the same spirit to vote six millions for the
current expenses of the year.

The great topic of the remainder of the session was the inquiry into
the guilt of Sir John Fenwick. In denouncing the noblemen named in his
confession, he had made them and their adherents his mortal enemies.
The Whigs were deeply incensed through the accusation of Russell and
Shrewsbury, and the Whigs were now more influential than ever. Instead
of damaging them and embarrassing William, Fenwick had fatally damaged
himself. As for Godolphin, who was the only Tory in the Ministry, they
contrived to get him to offer his resignation, which, unlike that of
Shrewsbury, was accepted, so that the Whigs had now a ministry wholly
of their party. Russell was loud in his demands of vengeance, and
William, at the suggestion of the Whigs, sent for Fenwick, and insisted
that he should supply further information as to the real conspirators,
whom he had evidently purposely screened. Fenwick declined, and William
gave him to understand that he had nothing more to expect from him.

The stubbornness of Fenwick soon received an explanation. His wife had
managed to corrupt Goodman, the second witness against him. An annuity
of five hundred pounds had been offered him to abscond, accompanied by
the menace of assassination if he refused. He consented to flee, and
was accompanied by an agent, named O'Brien, to St. Germains. Fenwick
now believed himself safe, as no man could be condemned on a charge of
high treason upon the evidence of one witness. But the vengeance of his
enemies was not thus to be defeated. Sir John might have recollected
how often the end in such cases had been secured by a Bill of
Attainder. Fenwick himself had been a zealous advocate for such a Bill
against Monmouth. When it became known that Goodman was spirited away,
the exasperation of the Commons was extreme. On the 6th of November
Russell vehemently demanded of the House that it should examine
and decide whether the accused parties were guilty or not. Before
proceeding to extremities the Commons, however, called Sir John before
them, and offered to intercede with the king on his behalf if he made
a full and immediate confession. But he would not consent to become
the informer against his own party, and was remanded. It was then
resolved, by a hundred and seventy-nine votes to sixty-one that a Bill
of Attainder should be brought in. The two parties put forth all their
strength, and the Bill was not carried till the 26th. For twenty days
the eloquence and influence of the House were in violent agitation.
The Tories were seen contending for the liberty of the subject, which
they had so often overridden by such bills, and the Whigs as vehemently
pressed on the measure as they had formerly denounced similar ones when
directed against those of their own party.

During the debates the depositions of Goodman made before the Grand
Jury, fully implicating Sir John in the conspiracy, were laid before
the House in support of the evidence of Porter. Goodman's absence
was proved, to the satisfaction of the House, to be owing to the
inducements and exertions of Fenwick's friends; and two of the grand
jurymen were examined, and detailed the evidence received by them
from Goodman on his examination, fully agreeing with that sent in in
writing. Some petty jurymen, also, who had decided the case of another
conspirator, confirmed this evidence. The Commons had proof enough
of his guilt, though it might want the legal formality of two direct
witnesses.

In the Lords the Earl of Monmouth made an adroit movement in favour
of Sir John. He defended him warmly, at the same time that he sent to
him in prison, through the Duchess of Norfolk, his cousin, a scheme
for defeating his enemies. He advised him to maintain the truth of
his confession, to declare that he derived his information from high
quarters, and to beg the king to demand of the Earls of Portland and
Romney whether the information in their possession against the noblemen
implicated did not correspond with his own; the king, moreover, should
be urged to lay before Parliament the evidence on which he had suddenly
dismissed Marlborough, and any letters intercepted on their way from
St. Germains to these parties. This would have been a thunderbolt to
the Government, and Monmouth awaited in exultation its effect. But Sir
John disappointed him. He feared to exasperate further the king and his
judges the Lords, to whom the accused belonged, and did not take the
hint. Monmouth, incensed, then turned against him himself. Marlborough
exerted himself with all his power to condemn him, even getting the
Prince of Denmark to go and vote against him. The bishops remained,
and voted, eight of them, against the passing of the Bill. Burnet and
Tenison, however, both spoke and voted for it, with little regard
to the practice that the prelates should take no part in advocating
measures of blood. The Lords Godolphin and Bath, though both amongst
those accused by Fenwick, voted in his favour, and Shrewsbury absented
himself from the debate. The Duke of Devonshire, too, to whom he had
carried his confession, voted against the Bill. Sir John offered to
make a full disclosure on condition of receiving a full pardon, but
this was not accorded him, and he refused further confession on any
other terms. At length, on the 27th of December, the Bill was carried,
but only by a majority of seven--sixty-eight votes to sixty-one.
Forty-one lords, including eight bishops, entered a protest on the
journal against the decision.

Unfortunately for Monmouth, the friends of Sir John were so incensed
at his turning round against him, that the Earl of Carlisle, Lady
Fenwick's brother, produced to the House the papers which he had sent
to Sir John in prison, and stated the censures on the king with which
he had accompanied them. A tempest suddenly burst over his head, of
indescribable fury. The Whigs were exasperated at his endeavouring to
sacrifice Russell and Shrewsbury to save Fenwick, and the Tories at
his endeavouring to sacrifice Marlborough and Godolphin, and at his
treacherously deserting Sir John for not following his advice. He was
committed to the Tower, deprived of all his places, and his name erased
from the list of privy councillors.

Parliament having passed this Act, adjourned for the Christmas
holidays, and every exertion was made to obtain a pardon for Sir John.
His wife threw herself at the feet of William, but he only replied
that he must consult his ministers before he could give an answer.
On the 11th of January, 1697, he put his signature to the Bill. When
Parliament met again she presented a petition to the House of Lords,
praying them to intercede with the king to commute the sentence to
perpetual banishment, but without success. On the 28th of January
Fenwick was conducted to execution on Tower Hill. On the scaffold he
delivered to the sheriff a sealed paper, in which he complained of the
irregularity of the proceeding against him, denied any participation in
the plan of assassination, but confessed his attachment to James, and
his belief in the right of the Prince of Wales after him.

After an abortive attempt to pass a Bill establishing a property
qualification for the Commons, another to put the press again under the
licensing system, and another to abolish those dens of protected crime,
the Savoy and Whitefriars, Parliament was prorogued on the 16th of
April.

Whilst this desperate conflict had been going on between Whig and Tory
in England, in Scotland a most useful measure had passed the Scottish
Parliament, namely, an Act establishing a school and schoolmaster in
every parish, and to this admirable Act it is that Scotland owes the
superior intelligence of its working classes. At the same time the
rigid bigotry of the clergy perpetrated one of the most revolting acts
in history. A youth of eighteen, named Thomas Aikenhead, had picked up
some of the sceptical notions of Hobbes and Tindal, and was arrested,
tried, and hanged for blasphemy between Leith and Edinburgh. It was
in vain that he expressed the utmost repentance for his errors, the
ministers were impatient for his death, and he died accordingly, to the
disgrace of the Presbyterian Church and the whole country.

William embarked for Holland on the 26th of April, having before his
departure made several promotions. To the disgust of many, Sunderland
was appointed one of the Lords Justices and Lord Chamberlain. The
Protestants wondered that a man who had apostatised when there was
a Popish king, should find such favour with a Presbyterian one; and
the honourable-minded that a man who had stooped to so many dirty
acts and arts should be thus exalted by a prince of sober morals.
But William's only excuse was that his ministers were so bad that
there was little to choose in their principles, and that he employed
them not for their virtues but their abilities. Russell was rewarded
for running down Fenwick with the title of Earl of Orford; the Lord
Keeper Somers was elevated to the full dignity of Lord Chancellor, and
created Baron Somers of Evesham. Montague was made First Lord of the
Treasury, in place of Godolphin; Lord Wharton, in addition to his post
of Comptroller of the Household, was appointed Chief Justice in Eyre,
south of the Trent; and his brother, Godwin Wharton, became a Lord of
the Admiralty.

The campaign in Flanders was commenced by the French with an activity
apparently intended to impress upon the Allies their ample ability to
carry on the war, although, in fact, never had France more need of
peace. Its finances were exhausted, its people were miserable; but far
more than the sufferings of his subjects to Louis were the ambitious
projects which he was now particularly cherishing. John Sobieski,
the brave deliverer of Vienna from the Turks, the King of Poland,
was dead, and Louis was anxious to place the Prince of Conti on the
throne of that kingdom. He had, however, a still more weighty motive
for peace. The King of Spain, the sickly and imbecile Charles II.,
was fast hastening to the tomb. He was childless; no provision was
made by the Spanish Government for filling the throne, and Louis of
France was watching for his death. Louis himself was married to the
elder sister of the Spanish king, and the Dauphin was thus next in
succession, but the marriage had been attended by a renunciation of
rights. The question was one of great intricacy; and we will postpone
for the present a discussion of the rights of the Dauphin and the
rival claimants--the Archduke Charles and the Electoral Prince. But if
the throne of Spain fell vacant during the alliance, the Allies, and
William amongst them, would support the Emperor's claims. Accordingly,
it was to the interest of the Emperor to prolong the war, and to the
interest of Louis to end it.

[Illustration: LORD SOMERS. (_After the Portrait by Sir Godfrey
Kneller._)]

Spain and Germany, therefore, were averse from peace. William and
Louis were the only parties, each for his own purposes, really anxious
for it. Louis, early in the spring, had made overtures to Dykvelt
through Cailleres, which were really surprising. They were no less
than to relinquish all the conquests made by him during the war, to
restore Lorraine to its duke, Luxemburg to Spain, Strasburg to the
Empire, and to acknowledge William's title to the crown of England
without condition or reserve. Such terms the Allies never could have
expected. They were a renunciation by the ambitious Louis of all that
he had been fighting for during so many years--of all that he had
drained his kingdom of its life and wealth to accomplish. That he
contemplated maintaining the peace any longer than till he had secured
Spain and Poland is not to be supposed. If he obtained peace now, these
objects would become more feasible, and he knew that William, his
most formidable enemy, would have disbanded his army, and would have
to create a new one and a new alliance before he could take the field
again to oppose him.

These undoubtedly were Louis's notions, and it was plausibly urged by
Spain and Austria that it was better now to press him as he was sinking
till he was perfectly prostrate, and then bind him effectually. But,
on the other hand, William felt that England and Holland had to bear
the brunt of the war; that it was all very well for Spain and Germany
to cry "Keep on," but the fact was, they did little or nothing towards
keeping on. The Germans had no union, and, therefore, no strength.
They sent excuses instead of their contingents and instead of money to
pay their share of the cost of the war. When they did rise, they were
nearly always behind their time and divided in their counsels. As for
Spain, it literally did nothing to defend its own territories. The
whole of Flanders would have been lost but for William and his Dutch
and English troops. Catalonia would have been lost but for Russell and
his fleet. Moreover, without consulting the Allies, Spain had joined in
a treaty with Savoy and France to save its Milanese territory, and to
the extreme prejudice of the Allies, it had, by releasing the French
armies from Italy, increased the force in Flanders. William was greatly
incensed by the endeavours of these Powers to continue the war; and
Louis, as the best spur to their backwardness, determined to seize
Brussels, and conduct himself as if bent on active aggression.

Catinat, relieved from his command in Savoy, had now joined Villeroi
and Boufflers in Flanders, and these generals determined to surprise
Brussels. They first advanced on the little town of Ath, and William,
who was but just recovering from an attack of illness, uniting his
forces with those of the Elector of Bavaria, endeavoured to prevent
them. He was, however, too late; but he marched hastily towards
Brussels to defend it against Villeroi and Boufflers. He passed over
the very ground on which the battle of Waterloo was long afterwards
fought, and posted himself on the height whence Villeroi had bombarded
the city two years before. Neither side, however, was anxious to engage
and incur all the miseries of a great battle, with the prospect of a
near peace. They therefore entrenched themselves and continued to lie
there for the rest of the summer, awaiting the course of events. Louis,
however, assailed the King of Spain in another quarter--Catalonia.
There Vendôme attacked the viceroy and defeated him, and invested
Barcelona, which, though bravely defended by the Prince of
Hesse-Darmstadt, was obliged to capitulate. At the same time came the
news of another blow. Louis had sent out a squadron under Admiral
Pointes to attack the Spanish settlements in the West Indies, and he
had sacked and plundered the town of Carthagena, and carried home an
immense treasure. These disasters made Spain as eager for peace as she
had before been averse, and the Emperor of Germany was obliged to cease
talking of returning to the position of the Treaty of Westphalia--a
state of things totally out of the power of the Allies to restore.

The Plenipotentiaries of the different Powers now at last were
ordered to meet; the only question was, Where? The Emperor proposed
Aix-la-Chapelle or Frankfort, but Louis objected to any German town,
but was willing that the place should be the Hague. It was at length
settled to be the Hague. The Ambassadors of the Allies were to occupy
the Hague itself; and the French, Delft, about five miles distant.
Midway between these towns lies the village of Ryswick, and close to
it a palace belonging then to William, called Neubourg House. There it
was determined that the Plenipotentiaries should meet for business. The
palace was admirably adapted, by its different entrances and alleys,
for the approach of the different bodies of diplomatists without
any confusion, and there was a fine, large, central hall for their
deliberations. There appeared for England the Earl of Pembroke, the
Viscount Villiers, Sir Joseph Williamson, and Matthew Prior, the poet,
as their secretary. For the Emperor, the gruff Kaunitz, the celebrated
Imperial Minister, was at the head of the German referees. For France
came Harlay, Crecy, and Cailleres. Don Quiros was the Minister of
Spain, and there were whole throngs of the representatives of the
lesser Powers. The Minister of Sweden, Count Lilienroth, was appointed
mediator, and, after various arrangements regarding precedence, on
the 9th of May the Plenipotentiaries met; but, it seemed, only to
entangle themselves in a multitude of absurd difficulties regarding
their respective ranks and titles. The Ambassadors of Spain and of
the Emperor were the most ridiculous in their punctilios. Then came
the news of the death of the King of Sweden (Charles XI.), and the
waiting of the mediator for a renewal of his powers, and for putting
himself into mourning, and it was the middle of June before any real
business had been done. William grew out of patience, and determined
to take a shorter cut to the object in view. He empowered Portland
to arrange with Boufflers, with whom he had become acquainted at the
time of the latter's arrest at Namur, the preliminaries of a peace
between France, England, and Holland. Portland and Boufflers met at
a country house near Hal, about ten miles from Brussels on the road
to Mons, and within sight of the hostile armies. The questions to be
settled between these two plain and straightforward negotiators were
these:--William demanded that Louis should bind himself not to assist
James, directly or indirectly, in any attempt on the throne of England,
and that James should no longer be permitted to reside in France. These
demands being sent by express to Paris, Louis at once agreed to the
first requisition, that he should engage never to assist James in any
attempt on England; but as to the second, he replied that he could not,
from honour and hospitality, banish James from France, but he would
undertake to induce him to remove to Avignon, if he did not voluntarily
prefer going to Italy. William accepted this modified acquiescence.
On the other hand, Louis demanded from William that he should give
an amnesty to all the Jacobites, and should allow Mary of Modena her
jointure of fifty thousand pounds a year.

William peremptorily refused to grant the amnesty--that was an
interference with the prerogative of his crown which he could permit
to no foreign Power. The jointure he was willing to pay, on condition
that the money should not be employed in designs against his crown or
life, and that James, his queen, and Court, should remove to Avignon
and continue to reside there. Neither the residence of the exiled
family nor the matter of the jointure was to be mentioned in the
treaty, but William authorised his Plenipotentiaries at the Congress
to say that Mary of Modena should have everything which on examination
should be found to be lawfully her due. This, indeed, may be considered
an ambiguous phrase, for Mary, as well as James, being deposed, all
her legal rights connected with the Crown had lapsed. William was
afterwards much blamed for the non-payment of this jointure; but those
who charged him with breach of faith knew very well that the jointure
was only conditionally offered, and that the conditions were altogether
disregarded.

The ceremonious and do-nothing Plenipotentiaries were greatly startled
by the news that Portland and Boufflers were continually meeting,
and were supposed to be actually making a treaty without them. A
thing so irregular, so undiplomatic, was unheard of; but William was
a man of business, and, in spite of forms and ceremonies, pushed on
the treaty and concluded it. Spain, which had arranged a separate
treaty in Savoy, was especially scandalised. But still more was James
alarmed and incensed. He addressed two memorials to the princes of the
confederacy--one to the Catholic Princes, entreating them to unite with
him against England for his rights, reminding them that his case was
theirs, and that the English revolution was setting a fatal precedent
for them; the other was to the princes at large, warning them against
infringing his inalienable rights by entering into any agreement with
the usurper to transfer his crown and dignity to him. These producing
no effect, he issued a third, protesting against any engagements they
might enter into to his prejudice, or the prejudice of his son; and
declaring that he should himself never feel bound by any of them.

If Louis was not moved by his entreaties and remonstrances, it was
not likely that the princes who had for eight years been fighting in
alliance with his rival would. Perhaps, however, James felt it only his
duty to put in his disclaimer. The negotiations went on. Besides the
terms offered by France to William and his Allies being accepted by all
except the Emperor, it was agreed that Commissioners should meet in
London from France to settle the respective pretensions of France and
England to the territories of Hudson's Bay. The Dutch made a separate
treaty of commerce with France. France surrendered all conquests made
since the Treaty of Nimeguen, and placed the chief fortresses in the
Low Countries in the hands of Dutch garrisons; except eighty towns and
villages, which the French claimed from longer possession, and the
right to which was to be determined by commissioners, with a power
of appeal to the States-General. A demand of toleration was made on
behalf of the French Protestants, but was refused on the same ground
as William refused the amnesty to the Jacobites--interference with
the prerogative of Louis. On the 10th of July the representatives of
the Emperor were asked by the French to sign, but, on declining, the
21st of August was fixed as the last day on which France would be
bound by its offer. William and the rest of the Allies were greatly
exasperated at this refusal of the Emperor. The 21st arrived, and,
the Commissioners not signing, the representatives of France declared
his most Christian Majesty had now withdrawn Strasburg from his offer,
and would annex it for ever to his realm; and, moreover, if the treaty
were not signed on or before the 10th of September, he should not hold
himself bound by the rest of his engagements.

[Illustration: WILLIAM'S TRIUMPHANT PROCESSION TO WHITEHALL. (_See p._
501.)]

On the 10th the rest of the Allies signed the treaty, but the Emperor
still held out, and a further time was allowed him, namely, till the
1st of November. On the 11th of September an event occurred which made
the resistance of the Emperor the more obstinate for a time. Prince
Eugene fought a great battle at Zenta against the Sultan in person,
completely routed the Turks, and killed or caused to be drowned in
the Theiss the Grand Vizier, the Aga of the Janissaries, and thirty
thousand of the enemy. There were six thousand more wounded or taken
prisoners, with their artillery, baggage, tents, ammunition, and
provisions. The Grand Seignior himself escaped with difficulty, whilst
the Imperialists lost only about one thousand men in the action. The
Emperor hoped that such a brilliant victory would induce the Allies to
prolong the war; but, as it produced no such effect, he was obliged
to comply. The petty princes, who had done nothing during the war
but create delays and embarrassments, stood out to the very last on
the demand that the Lutheran religion should be restored in Louis's
territories, where it had been put down; but they stood out in vain.
The treaty was duly signed and ratified at the time fixed.

The new treaty produced very different sensations in France and
England. In France there was much murmuring. For what, it was asked,
had the king been fighting all these years? He had given up everything,
and could only have done that under defeat. The Court of St. Germains
and James's adherents were in despair. In England the most riotous
joy broke forth. There were all the usual demonstrations of such
occasions--bonfires, drinking, and firing of guns. The bells rang out
from every steeple, and the Bank of England stocks, which were at
twenty per cent. below par, rose to par. The Jacobites cursed Louis
for a traitor to the cause of James, and fled to hide themselves. The
rejoicings were equally enthusiastic all over the kingdom.

When William entered his capital it was a regular triumph. From
Greenwich to Whitehall it was one dense crowd of hurrahing people;
troops of militia and train-bands, the City authorities attending
him in all their paraphernalia, the Foot Guards standing under arms
at Whitehall, and the windows all the way crowded with handsome or
excited faces. The 2nd of December was appointed as a day of public
thanksgiving, and the new cathedral of St. Paul's was crowded by its
first great assemblage on the occasion. There were deputations bringing
zealous addresses to the foot of the Throne, and foremost and most
loyal in language amongst them was that of the University of Oxford,
which had so long distinguished itself by its Toryism and devotion to
the Stuarts.

There was cause, indeed, for joy; for the country was for a time freed
from the most exhausting war in which it had ever been engaged. It had
passed through it with credit, though its armies and navies were in a
great measure commanded by traitors. Its wealth and credit were higher
than ever; and, above all, the tone and temper of the nation were sure
guarantees that the return of James or his son was the most impossible
of things. Still, had the Allies on the Continent been true to each
other, and to the principles for which they professed to contend, they
might have inflicted a far more complete punishment on the heartless
ambition of Louis, and thus prevented the speedy recurrence of the
horrors which they now hoped were for a long time at an end.

CHAPTER XV.

REIGN OF WILLIAM III. (_concluded_).

William met his Parliament on the 3rd of December. He congratulated
it on the achievement of a peace in which the Confederates had
accomplished all they had fought for--the repression of the ambitious
attempts of France to bring under its yoke the rest of the kingdoms
on the Continent. She had been compelled to yield up everything which
she had seized from the commencement of the war. But he reminded them
that this had not been accomplished except at a heavy cost. They had
supported him nobly in furnishing that cost, and he trusted they would
not now be less prompt to discharge the remaining unpaid claims,
and in taking measures to liquidate by degrees the debts incurred.
He expressed his hope that they would provide him for life with a
sufficient Civil List to maintain the necessary dignity of the Crown.
Though the war was over, he reminded them that there were many reasons
why the army and navy should yet be maintained on a respectable footing.

The Commons voted him an address, in which they united in the
congratulations on the restoration of peace, but passed over the
subject of the army. William noticed the omission, and felt it deeply.
Nobody was more aware than himself that, though they had bound France
by the treaty of Ryswick, no bonds of that kind ever held Louis
XIV. any longer than it suited his necessities or his schemes of
aggrandisement. He observed that Louis still kept on foot his large
armies, and that he still retained James and his Court at St. Germains,
in open violation of the treaty; and the circumstances of Spain, whose
king was gradually dying childless, with Louis intently watching to
pounce on his dominions, filled him, as it did every far-seeing man,
with deep anxiety. Though no king ever less sought to infringe the
liberties of his subjects, yet William, naturally fond of an army and
of military affairs, was especially anxious at this crisis for the
retention of a respectable force. He knew that Europe, though freed
from actual war, was, through the restless ambition of Louis, still
living only in an armed peace.

The Commons did not leave him long in suspense. In a few days they
went into the subject of the proposal to keep up the army. The spirit
of the House was high against a standing army. All the old arguments
were produced--that a standing army was totally inconsistent with
the liberties of the people; that the moment you put the sword into
the hands of mercenaries, the king became the master of the rights
of the nation, and a despot. They asked, "If a standing army were
to be maintained, what should they have gained by the revolution?"
The Tories, who were anxious to damage the Whigs, and the Jacobites,
who were anxious to damage William's government altogether, were
particularly eloquent on these topics. The true patriots, and they
were few, were eloquent from principle. It was in vain that the
friends of William represented that it was a very different thing to
maintain an army in particular circumstances which depended on the
will of Parliament, from maintaining one at the sole pleasure of the
king. The opponents of a standing army contended that a militia was
the natural force for internal defence, which could be brought to
nearly as much perfection as regular troops, and could be called out
when wanted; and that the navy was our proper army, and that if kept
in due efficiency it was able, not only to protect us and our trade,
but to render all such assistance to other nations as became a generous
and Christian nation. By a division of a hundred and eighty-five votes
against a hundred and forty-eight, the House resolved that all the
forces raised since 1686 should be disbanded.

[Illustration: PETER THE GREAT AT DEPTFORD DOCKYARD.

FROM THE PAINTING BY DANIEL MACLISE, R.A. IN THE ROYAL HOLLOWAY
COLLEGE, EGHAM.]

This fell with an appalling shock on William. All his army of brave
mercenaries, his Dutch guards, his Huguenot cavalry, must be sent away.
He would, it was found, be left only with about eight thousand regular
troops. Never was there such a stripping of a martial monarch, who had
figured at the head of upwards of a hundred thousand men against the
greatest military power of Europe. He made little remark publicly, but
he poured out his grief to his great correspondent the Dutch Grand
Pensionary, Heinsius, and to Burnet. To them he said that it would
make his alliance of so little value, his state so contemptible, that
he did not see how he was to carry on the government; that he never
could have imagined, after what he had done for the nation, that they
would treat him thus; and that, had he imagined it, he would never have
meddled with the affairs of England; that he was weary of governing a
country which had rather lay itself open to its enemies than trust him,
who had acted all his life so faithfully for them. But it was useless
complaining; the country was resolved on having no standing army, and
every attempt of Ministers to modify or enlarge the resolution was
disregarded. They proposed that the Bill should be committed, because
it would leave the king in the hands of the old Tory regiments; and,
again, that five hundred thousand pounds per annum should be granted
for the maintenance of Guards and garrisons. Both motions were
negatived. There was a strong feeling excited against Sunderland, on
the supposition that he had encouraged the king in his desire for a
large army, because he warmly argued for it; and that minister, equally
odious to both parties, felt it safest to retire. He therefore resigned
his post of Lord Chamberlain, though William did all he could to
dissuade him from doing so, and sought the seclusion of his princely
abode of Althorp.

These were the last transactions of the English Government in 1697; but
there was at this moment a person residing in England who was destined
to produce greater changes in the face of Europe, and in its relations,
than any who had gone before him. This was Peter the Czar of Muscovy,
who was at this time residing at Sayes Court, a house of the celebrated
John Evelyn, at Deptford, and studying the fleet and shipbuilding of
England, in order to create a naval power for himself. He was only a
youth of five-and-twenty, and was the monarch of a country then sunk
in barbarism, which was unrepresented at the Courts of Europe, was
little heard of by the rest of the Continent, and whose merchants were
forbidden, on pain of death, to trade with other countries. Yet already
Peter had raised a regular army, and something of a navy, putting
them under the management of Scottish and French officers. By means
of these, in 1696, he had besieged and taken Azov. He had put himself
through all the ranks of the army, beginning as a common soldier; and
he had then determined to see personally the chief maritime nations,
Holland and England, and learn what he could of the arts that made them
so powerful. He set out with only twelve attendants, amongst whom were
his two chief princes, Menschikoff, who had been originally a pieman,
and Galitzin. These were to act as his ambassadors to the Courts of
Holland and England, he himself remaining _incognito_. He first settled
at Zaandam, in Holland, where he lived in a small lodging, dressed
and worked with his attendants as ship-carpenters, learning to forge
the ironwork of ships, as well as to prepare their woodwork. He had
a yacht on the Zuyder Zee, and practised its management, and studied
rope-making and sail-making. He found himself too much crowded about
and stared at on his removal to London, where he spent his time chiefly
in the dockyards of Deptford, Woolwich, and Chatham. William used to
go and see him at Sayes Court, and sent the Marquis of Caermarthen
to attend upon him, where they are said to have drunk brandy and
pepper together during the long winter evenings. In the ensuing April
disturbances at home called him away, but not before he had destroyed
Evelyn's fine holly hedges by driving over them in the deep snows in
his sledge, to Evelyn's great mortification.

At the opening of the year 1698, all appeared peace in Europe,
but it was the quiet only which lies in the bosom of a volcano.
Enormous expenditure of blood and treasure had been made to repel the
unprincipled schemes of Louis XIV. Europe seemed to have triumphed over
him. He had suddenly surrendered all that he had striven for, as if
he perceived the impossibility of his aspirations. Nothing was less
the fact. Never had he been so daring in his plans of aggrandisement
as at this moment. Why should he continue to drain his kingdom of its
population and its substance to grasp merely at Flanders, when, by
exerting the arts of diplomacy, he might possess himself, not only
of Flanders, but of all Spain, the north of Italy, the Sicilies, the
South American and Indian dependencies? This grand scheme Louis now
resolved to compass. He had married, as we have said, the Infanta,
Maria Theresa, the sister of Charles II. of Spain, and had children
by her. On marrying her he had sworn to renounce all claims to the
Spanish throne through her; but this weighed nothing with Louis. He
resolved that a son of the Dauphin--that is, his grandson through Maria
Theresa--should be put forward as the French candidate in lieu of his
father. Against him was the Emperor of Germany, the first cousin of
Charles II., but he had resigned his claims in favour of his son by a
second marriage--the Archduke Charles. By his first marriage with a
younger sister of Charles II. he was the grandfather of the Electoral
Prince of Bavaria. But the rights of this claimant, like those of the
Dauphin's son Philip, were somewhat discountenanced by the fact that
his grandfather's marriage had been accompanied by a renunciation of
rights. It will be seen, therefore, that the question was one of some
intricacy, and it was complicated by doubts as to the validity of the
renunciations. Louis determined that the House of Austria should be
set aside, and his own issue occupy the Spanish throne, when France,
in fact, stretching from Gibraltar to Flanders, and including a large
share of Italy, would be able to give law to the Continent, and swallow
up Flanders and Holland, if not Germany too. This was the danger which
wrought on the anxious heart of William at this moment.

Montague, in the height of his popularity, undertook and carried a
measure which eventually, however, did the Whigs infinite mischief.
Ministers had applied to the East India Company for a loan. The
Company offered to lend them seven hundred thousand pounds, to be
repaid out of the supplies at the convenience of Government. The new
Company, which had so long been striving after a charter, hearing of
the proposal, immediately outbade the old Company, offering to lend
the Government two million pounds at eight per cent. The bait was too
tempting to resist; a Bill was brought into the Commons, and passed
its first reading by a large majority. The old Company, alarmed,
petitioned the House, stating the claims it possessed, from having
been encouraged by many royal charters to invest its capital, and to
create a trade with India. It begged the House to consider that a
thousand families depended on the stock, and that the property of the
Company in India, producing an annual revenue of forty-four thousand
pounds, would all be destroyed or reduced to trifling value. They
deposed that they had expended a million of money in fortifications
alone; that during the war they had lost twelve ships and cargoes worth
fifteen hundred thousand pounds; that since the last subscription they
had paid two hundred and ninety-five thousand pounds for customs,
and above eighty-five thousand pounds in taxes. They had furnished
ten thousand barrels of gunpowder when the Government was greatly
pressed for it, and taken eighty thousand pounds' worth of Exchequer
Bills. The House weighed the proposal, but was persuaded by Montague
to give the preference to the new Company. On this the old Company
offered, notwithstanding their great losses, to advance two millions
to Government, on condition that the charter to the new Company was
not granted. The offer came too late; the Bill for the new Company
was passed, and carried also in the Lords, but with considerable
opposition, and a protest from one-and-twenty peers. This Act was,
notwithstanding, deemed a very unjust and arbitrary measure; and the
arguments of the Whigs for a standing army, and their embezzlements
in the Government offices and by most flagrant contracts, seriously
affected their popularity.

Towards the end of July William went to Holland, and having addressed
the States-General, and given audience to a number of ambassadors at
the Hague, he betook himself to his favourite seat at Loo, where,
in August, he was joined by Portland, the Pensionary Heinsius, and
the Count Tallard, an emissary from Louis XIV. In this retirement
they discussed one of the boldest projects which could possibly be
entertained by statesmen, namely, a partition of the Spanish dominions.
That the scheme was Louis XIV.'s there can be no question, and, daring
as it was, served but as the blinding manœuvre which covered still
more daring ones. The ultimate object of Louis was the seizure of the
crown and territories of Spain, to which we have already alluded, but
William, with great address, at once set to work to countermine him.

This plan of dividing the empire of Spain amongst such parties as
should suit the views of William and Louis had been suggested by
France, apparently very soon after the peace of Ryswick, and had been
going on all the spring in England in profound secrecy. One of the
motives for sending Portland to Paris in January had been to learn the
full particulars of this scheme, which had been somewhat mysteriously
opened to William. In writing to Heinsius on the 3rd of January,
when Portland was about to start for France, William expressed his
surprise as to the real meaning of "something that was proposed to be
done by the Republic, France, and England, towards the maintenance of
the peace," and imagined it might relate to their position with the
Emperor. However, he added, "the earl of Portland will readily be able
to get at the bottom of this affair in France, and that is another
reason for hastening his departure as much as possible."

[Illustration: VIEW IN THE HAGUE: OLD GATE IN THE BINNENHOF, WITH THE
ARMS OF THE COUNTY OF HOLLAND.]

Portland was scarcely settled in his diplomatic position in Paris when
the scheme was broached to him, but at first cautiously. On the 15th
of March he wrote to William that the Ministers Pomponne and De Torcy
had communicated to him, but in the profoundest secrecy, that the
king their master desired to make him the medium of a most important
negotiation with the king of England. The impending death of the king
of Spain was likely to throw the whole of Europe into war again, unless
this were prevented by engagements entered into by the kings of France
and England to prevent it. For if the Emperor were allowed to succeed
to Spain with its dependencies, Flanders, Italy, and the colonies, he
would become so powerful that he would be dangerous to all Europe.
Portland declared that he could give no opinion, nor could the king
his master give an answer, so far as he could see, until he had the
full views of the king of France on the subject; and that the naval and
maritime interests of England and Holland might be greatly affected by
any arrangement regarding the succession of the Spanish territories.
The French Ministers said it would be easy to order matters regarding
the Low Countries to the satisfaction of England and Holland, and that
France would guarantee that the crown of Spain should not be annexed to
that of France; but as to the Indies, or the security of English trade
in the Mediterranean, Portland could draw nothing from them. The views
of France were so far not very clear; but Portland added the important
piece of information that the Count de Tallard was at that very moment
setting out for London, ostensibly to congratulate William, but really
to prosecute this negotiation.

Accordingly, Tallard arrived in London on the 19th of March, and
he and William, in strict secrecy, admitting no one else to their
confidence, discussed this scheme of Louis. This was no other than that
the crown of Spain, with the Spanish Netherlands and colonies, should
not be allowed to pass to the Emperor, but should be settled on the
Electoral Prince of Bavaria, the third claimant; that Naples, Sicily,
Sardinia, the province of Guipuzcoa on the French side of the Pyrenees,
Fontarabia, San Sebastian, Ferrol, and some towns on the Tuscan coast
then owned by Spain, and called Presidii, should be settled by a mutual
treaty between them on the Dauphin; and that Milan should be settled
on the Archduke Charles, the second son of the Emperor, to whom he had
resigned his rights.

The negotiations were carried on in England in closest secrecy between
William and Tallard, William entering into engagements which most
momentously affected England as well as all Europe, without taking a
particle of advice from his Council, much less seeking the advice of
Parliament--a proceeding which we should now consider unconstitutional,
but which was then by no means unusual. When he quitted England after
the dissolution of Parliament, it was only the more unobservedly to
complete this extraordinary business. Tallard followed him to Loo, and
they were soon after joined by Portland. It was now about the middle
of August, and William wrote to Somers, desiring him to send him full
powers under the Great Seal to complete the negotiation, leaving the
names in blanks. He said he had ordered Portland to write to Vernon,
the Secretary of State, to draw out the commission with his own hand,
so that no creature should know anything of it except Somers and one
or two of the other most trusted Ministers. He told Somers that it was
confidently believed that the King of Spain could not outlive the month
of October--might die much sooner, and, therefore, not a moment was to
be lost.

In consequence of this communication, Somers, who was seeking health at
Tunbridge Wells, immediately called into his counsels Russell (now Lord
Orford), Montague, and Shrewsbury. He informed William that Montague
and Secretary Vernon had come down to him at Tunbridge; they had
seriously discussed this very momentous question, and that it seemed
to them that it might be attended with very many ill consequences if
the French did not act a sincere part; that the people of England would
undoubtedly resent being drawn into any fresh war; and that it required
deep consideration what would be the condition of Europe should this
proposed partition be carried out. To them it seemed that if Sicily
were in French hands, they would become entire masters of the Levant
trade; that if they obtained any of the Spanish ports on the Tuscan
coast, Milan would be so entirely shut in from independent intercourse
or commerce by sea and land that it would be utterly powerless; that if
France had Guipuzcoa and the other Spanish places on the French side of
the Pyrenees, the rest of Spain would be as completely open to French
invasion as Catalonia now was; and, finally, if this negotiation was
concluded, what guarantee had William for the king of France's faithful
execution of it? Were England and Holland to sit still and see France
enforce this partition? "If that be so," says Somers, "what security
ought we to expect from the French that, while we are neuter, they will
confine themselves to the terms of the treaty, and not attempt to take
further advantage?" These considerations were sound, but William had
certainly chosen the lesser of two evils, for the placing of the French
candidate on the throne of Spain would have entirely overturned the
European balance.

In obedience to the king's orders, Somers sent the _carte blanche_
with the Great Seal affixed; but he had failed in inducing Vernon to
give him a warrant for affixing the Seal. The Secretary was too well
aware of the unconstitutional character of this proceeding to issue
such a warrant, and Somers was obliged to content himself with keeping
the king's letter as his authority for the act. Undeterred by the
plain suggestions of Somers and the other Ministers as to the total
want of security which he had for Louis's observance of this treaty,
and the dangerous power it conferred on France, William was in such
haste to conclude the treaty, that the Earl of Portland and Sir Joseph
Williamson had signed a rough draft before Somers's _carte blanche_
arrived; and on the 11th of October, or about six weeks after its
receipt, the formal treaty was signed by Portland, Williamson, Tallard,
and Heinsius.

William returned to England in the beginning of December. He arrived on
the 4th, and opened his new Parliament on the 6th. It had been obliged
to be prorogued owing to his prolonged stay, having been called for
August. The Ministers in William's absence had not taken much pains to
influence the elections, and it soon appeared that a very independent
body of gentlemen had been sent up. Not only had the electors put
forward men of free principles, but the press had warmly urged the
selection of a Liberal Speaker as essential to the full exercise of
Parliamentary freedom. There were three candidates for the Speakership
more particularly in view--Sir Edward Seymour, Sir Thomas Littleton,
and Harley, the one supported by the Tories.

A paper on the choice of a Speaker had been actively circulated, which
said that the great Lord Burleigh declared "that England could never
be undone except by a Parliament," and that whenever we were enslaved
like our Continental neighbours, it would be by the joint influence of
a corrupt Parliament and a standing army. It cried down Seymour as a
man who had constantly been bargaining with the Court since the days of
the Pension Parliament of Charles II.; and it declared that men holding
office under the Crown were most unfit for the office of Speaker. This
was aimed at Littleton, which seemed a good omen for the Court, but, as
it soon appeared, was no sound indication, for Harley was not elected,
but Littleton.

In his opening speech William told the Commons that, notwithstanding
the state of peace, it would be necessary for them to consider well the
strength which they ought to maintain both at sea and on land; that the
honour and even safety of the nation depended on not stripping it too
much of its forces in the eyes of foreign nations. It was necessary,
he contended, that Europe should be impressed with the idea that they
would not be wanting to themselves. They had acquired a great position
among the nations, and it was their duty to preserve it. He recommended
them to make some progress in the discharge of the debts incurred in
this long and expensive war, for an English Parliament could never,
he imagined, neglect the sacred obligations which it had assumed. He
also suggested to them some measures for the improvement of trade and
for the discouragement of profaneness, and he begged them to act with
unanimity.

The remarks on the necessity of maintaining more troops than the last
Parliament had determined on, and on defraying the debts incurred
by the war, seemed to rouse an extraordinary spirit of anger and
disrespect in the new House. It neglected the ordinary courtesy of
an Address. Before leaving for Holland in the summer, William left a
sealed paper, ordering Ministers not to reduce the army in compliance
to less than sixteen thousand men. Probably this was become known,
and there had got abroad a persuasion that the king meant to resist
the will of the Parliament in this respect; no other cause appeared
sufficient to explain the animus which now manifested itself. The House
resounded with speeches against standing armies, and on the waste of
the people's substance on foreign wars, and it resolved that all the
land forces of England in English pay should not exceed seven thousand,
and that these should all be natural-born subjects; that not more
than twelve thousand should be maintained in Ireland--these, too, all
natural-born subjects, and to be supported by the revenue of Ireland.
The Ministers had told the king before the meeting of Parliament that
they thought they could obtain a grant of ten or twelve thousand in
England, and William had replied that they might as well leave none as
so few. But now that this storm broke out, the Ministers, seeing no
possibility of carrying the number they had hoped for, sat silent, to
the great disgust of the king.

This resolution went to strip William of his Dutch Guards whom he had
brought with him, and who had attended him in so many actions, and
of the brave Huguenots, who had done such signal service in Ireland.
The spirit of the Commons, instead of being merely economical, was
in this instance petty and miserable. It was neither grateful nor
becoming to its dignity, to make so sweeping a reduction of the
army, to begrudge the king who had rescued them from the miserable
race of the Stuarts, and had so nobly acquiesced in everything which
regarded their liberties, the small satisfaction of a few Dutch and
Huguenot troops. The Huguenots especially, it might have been expected,
would have experienced some sympathy from the Parliament, not only
in return for their own gallant services, but because their friends
and fellow-religionists were at this moment suffering the severest
persecution. But a deep dislike of foreigners had seized the nation,
and this had been rendered the more intense from the lavish wealth
which William heaped on Portland and others, and from his retiring
every year to spend the summer months in Holland. They had never been
accustomed to have their monarch passing a large portion of his time
abroad, and they regarded it as an evidence that he only had any
regard for the Dutch. The Commons, without considering his feelings,
introduced a Bill founded on their resolution, carried it briskly
through the House, and sent it up to the Lords, where it also passed.

Deeply annoyed, William is said to have walked to and fro on learning
that the Commons insisted on his dismissing the Dutch Guards, and to
have muttered, "By God, if I had a son, these Guards should not quit
me." He wrote to Lord Galway, one of his foreign friends, "There is a
spirit of ignorance and malice prevails here beyond conception." To
Heinsius he wrote in a similar strain, "that he was so chagrined at the
conduct of the Commons, that he was scarcely master of his thoughts,
and hinted at coming to extremities, and being in Holland sooner than
he had thought." In fact, he was so much excited as to menace again
throwing up the government. He sat down and penned a speech which
he proposed to address to the two Houses; it is still preserved in
the British Museum. It ran:--"My Lords and Gentlemen,--I came into
this kingdom, at the desire of the nation, to save it from ruin, and
to preserve your religion, laws, and liberties; and for this object
I have been obliged to sustain a long and burthensome war for this
kingdom, which, by the grace of God and the bravery of this nation, is
at present terminated by a good peace; in which you may live happily
and in repose if you would contribute to your own security, as I
recommended at the opening of the Session. But seeing, on the contrary,
that you have so little regard for my advice, and take so very little
care of your own safety, and that you expose yourselves to evident ruin
in depriving yourselves of the only means for your defence, it would
neither be just nor reasonable for me to be witness of your ruin, not
being able on my part to avoid it, being in no condition to defend and
protect you, which was the only view I had in coming to this country."
And it then went on to desire them to name proper persons to take
charge of the government, promising, however, to come again whenever
they would put him in his proper place, with proper power to defend
them. The entreaties of Somers, however, induced him to abandon his
purpose.

The mischief which the Whigs had done themselves by granting a charter
to the new East India Company, in violation of the existing charter of
the old Company, merely because the former Company had offered them a
large money bait, encouraged the Tories greatly in their endeavours
to regain power. They exhorted the old Company to petition that means
should be taken to enable it to maintain its trade and property against
the new Company for the remaining portion of the twenty-one years of
its charter; and there were not wanting some in the House who declared
that the new charter, granted in violation of an existing one, and
from such corrupt motives, should be abolished. Montague, however,
who had passed the Act for this charter, was able to protect it, but
not to prevent fresh onslaughts on the unpopular Whigs. They were
charged with gross corruption, and with embezzlement of the public
revenue, for the purchase of great estates for themselves, and the
grievous burthen of the people by taxation. Russell, Earl of Orford,
was specially singled out by the Commons. He was both First Lord of the
Admiralty and Treasurer of the Navy, as well as Admiral, and assumed
great authority, forgetful of the humble station from which he had
risen. He was charged with keeping large sums of public money for his
own private use, instead of paying the officers and seamen when their
pay was due. They called for his accounts, and there appeared to be
four hundred and sixty thousand pounds in his hands. In his defence
he represented that this was actually in course of payment, and that
part of the sum was yet in tallies, which must be converted into cash
before it could be distributed. But this did not satisfy the Commons.
They voted an address to the king, complaining of the impropriety of
one and the same person being Lord High Admiral, Chief Commissioner of
the Board of Admiralty, and Treasurer; of gross misapplication of the
public money; of many unnecessary changes introduced into the navy; of
delays in granting convoys; and of favouritism to particular officers.
Orford was prudent enough to retire from his offices before the storm
which was gathering burst in all its fury upon him. The Tories, elated
by this success, endeavoured to get Sir George Rooke put into Orford's
place; but the Whigs were yet strong enough and imprudent enough to get
the Earl of Bridgewater named First Lord of the Admiralty--a man almost
wholly unacquainted with naval affairs; and Lord Haversham, another of
the "land admirals," as the sailors called these unprofessional men,
succeeded to Priestman, one of the Junior Lords, who retired.

[Illustration: CHARLES MONTAGUE, EARL OF HALIFAX. (_After the Portrait
by Sir Godfrey Kneller._)]

Those matters being settled, the House voted fifteen thousand pounds
for sailors for the year, the vote expressly stipulating for sailors
only, lest the king should include some land forces under the name of
marines. They also granted one million four hundred and eighty-four
thousand pounds for the service of the year, to be raised by a land
and income tax of three shillings in the pound. To this Act, availing
themselves of their sole right to introduce money Bills, they also
"tacked" a clause appointing commissioners to take an account of the
estates forfeited in Ireland by the last rebellion, in order to their
being applied in ease of the subjects in England. This was another
sharp reminder of the king's proceedings. It had been promised by him
that he would not bestow the forfeited estates without the sanction
of the House, but in disregard of this he had given large estates to
his favourites. William was deeply mortified by this clause, and some
of the Lords entered a protest against it, on the ground that the
clause was foreign to the contents of the Bill, and was contrary to the
practice of Parliament. The king, however, did not venture to refuse
his signature to the Act, which he passed on the 4th of May, 1699, and
at the same time prorogued the Parliament.

Before quitting England, William was obliged to almost entirely remodel
his Ministry. The Duke of Leeds retired from the Presidency of the
Council; his influence had expired with the discovery of his bribe from
the East India Company. The Earl of Pembroke, a moderate Tory, who
performed his official duties with zeal and integrity, was put in his
place. Villiers, Earl of Jersey, having returned from his embassy to
France, was made Secretary of State in place of the Duke of Shrewsbury,
who became Lord Chamberlain. The Earl of Manchester went as ambassador
to France in place of Jersey, and Lord Lonsdale, another Tory, obtained
the Privy Seal. On the 2nd of June, William, having appointed a
regency, embarked for Holland, where he retired to Loo, but not to
peace of mind, for he saw events marching to an ominous result. The
forces of England and of the Continent were disbanded, except those of
Louis, which were rapidly increased; and not only the Spanish monarchy,
but all Europe, appeared at his mercy. But before following these
movements, we must trace some nearer home.

Ireland was quiet. The Parliament of that kingdom had voted one hundred
and twenty thousand pounds for the maintenance of the twelve thousand
troops ordered by the English Parliament to be quartered in that
country, and the Duke of Bolton and the Earls of Berkeley and Galway
were appointed Lords Justices.

In Scotland far different was the state of things. There excitement
raged against the Ministry of England, and not the less against the
king, who disowned their Company, organised to carry out the Act
granted for trading to Africa and the Indies. The charter for this
Company was granted by the Scottish Parliament, and ratified by William
in 1695. Its professed object was to trade with the East and West
Indies and Africa; but there was a plan for carrying out these objects,
which does not seem to have been made known to the Government, or made
public generally, till after the acquisition of the charter. This was
to seize on the Isthmus of Darien, to establish a strong colony there,
and not only to grow rich through possession of the gold mines, but to
found ports both on the Atlantic and on the Pacific, so that a great
carrying trade might be prosecuted between Europe and China and the
East Indies by that route.

William Paterson, the projector of this scheme, was the same man
who had projected and carried into being, through the influence of
Montague, the Bank of England. He has been generally represented as
a visionary speculator and schemer, and has not unfrequently been
confounded with John Law, of Lauriston, the author of the famous South
Sea Bubble and Mississippi Scheme, which spread such ruin through
both France and England. Paterson, however, was a very different
man. Undoubtedly he was a most speculative genius, but in his
speculations there was something grand, substantial, and based, for
the most part, on the purest moral principles. The Bank of England
is a lasting memorial of his real sagacity and acute talents. It was
well devised, and immediately rose to entire success. Through some
disagreement in the mode of management Paterson sold out his stock,
and proposed the erection of an Orphan Bank, connected with the Orphan
Fund established by the Corporation of London already mentioned. This
was not entertained, and he then projected his grand scheme for the
Scottish Company to trade to the Indies. This scheme, so far from being
visionary, had all the elements of a great and far-seeing reality.
The unsound portion of Paterson's project was the not sufficiently
taking into account these political obstacles:--Spain possessed, or
rather claimed to possess, the Isthmus of Darien. Louis of France was
contemplating the seizure of Spain, and its American territories.
William was under treaty of peace with both Spain and Louis. It was
impossible, therefore, to obtain possession of the Isthmus of Darien
without producing a fresh European war. To attempt it by treaty was
useless, for Spain would never consent to permit England, of which
she was in the highest degree jealous, thus to establish a great
mercantile colony in the midst of her most valuable Transatlantic
colonies, from which she was annually drawing her cargoes of gold and
other valuable products. Louis of France, who was resolved to succeed
to the Spanish Empire, was as little likely to permit such a thing. To
obtain possession of Darien, then, could only be done by invasion, and
that invasion must produce immediate war, for which William was not
prepared.

But the scheme was got up ostensibly to trade to the East and West
Indies and Africa. There was no mention of Panama; and its prospects
were so fair that they seized on the imaginations of the English and
Scottish public. The Company was to have the monopoly of trade with
Asia, Africa, and America for thirty-one years. Paterson had spent
ten years in the West Indies, and, as it is supposed, in Panama. At
all events, he had the reputation of being intimately acquainted with
those regions and their resources. His proposals of the Company were
eagerly accepted both in London and Edinburgh. Though it was intended
to raise only three hundred and sixty thousand pounds as the original
stock for both countries, three hundred thousand pounds were subscribed
in London alone in a few days. But this remarkable success excited all
the vindictive feelings of Companies whose interests this new league
appeared likely to affect. The East India Companies, new and old,
immediately were on the alert, and raised such a feeling in the House
of Commons that it resolved to impeach Paterson and the bankers, Coutts
and Cohen, for the commission of an illegal act in daring to levy money
in England without the sanction of the English Legislature. In the
meantime a subscription list had been opened at Hamburg, and by this
the Dutch East India Company was equally alarmed, and the influence
both of the Dutch and of the English Companies was made to bear on
the king. William, who had been too much absorbed by his warfare with
Louis to perceive the hostile feelings which he was exciting by passing
the Scottish Act, now made haste to condemn his own precipitancy. He
complained that he had been deceived by the Scottish Government, and at
once gave orders to prohibit the scheme, and sent similar orders to his
consul at Hamburg to forbid the subscription there. The senate of the
city of Hamburg was induced to prohibit the canvassing of the Company's
agents; and the English subscribers, alarmed at the menaces of the
king and Commons, withdrew their names. Nor were these all the enemies
of this scheme. There were Scottish traders united for commerce with
India by the ordinary route, and these joined in the cry. One of these,
Mr. Robert Douglas, attacked the scheme in a very able letter. In this
letter we are first let into the secret that the real destination is
not so much the West Indies as Darien, on the mainland. It is not,
however, from Paterson having mentioned expressly Darien that Douglas
declares it to be that place, but he infers it from the fact that the
locality darkly hinted at by Paterson is at once near the Caribbean
isles, and at the same time so situated "that it will alter the whole
method of trade in Europe, and effectually ruin both the English and
Dutch East Indian Companies, because it opens a shorter, safer, and
more convenient way to the East Indies by the Pacific from England and
Holland."

Douglas then points out that it is not nearer or more convenient than
the old way to the western or Bombay coast of the Indian peninsula;
that it was then a very dangerous route, because our merchant vessels
on that track would have to pass the Dutch, Batavian, and Spice Island
settlements, which would show the utmost hostility to such a traffic;
but still more, that it was impossible, because this Isthmus of Panama
was the track by which Spain conveyed her treasure from Peru to
Portobello; that as to the rightful possession of the country by Spain,
the city of Darien, called Santa Maria, was one of the first cities
built by them on the mainland of America, as the province was the first
province possessed by them. These were sound reasons why the king could
not consent to any such invasion of the territory of Spain, and why
Spain was not likely to concede it by treaty. These reasons should have
made Paterson and the Scots pause.

Unwarned by the great outcry, the firm opposition, and insurmountable
obstacles, Paterson and the Scots went on. The Scottish people, who
conceived the idea of achieving enormous wealth in the golden regions
of Central America, regarded themselves as victims of the jealousy of
William's favourite Dutch, and of the haughty monopolising spirit of
the English, and the whole country was in a ferment. They considered
themselves insulted and most perfidiously treated by the king, who had
freely sanctioned the Company, and then as unceremoniously disowned
and trampled on it. They went on with the subscriptions, and speedily
the amount rose to four hundred thousand pounds. The highest and most
intelligent of the Scottish nobility, as well as the people generally,
were sanguine contributors. Their younger sons saw a new highway to
opulence and distinction suddenly opened. Many lords mortgaged all that
they could to secure an ample share of the expected benefits. Their
tenantry and servants were enthusiastic in their adhesion to it; and
the officers whom the peace had left at large, prepared for fresh
campaigns and adventures in the golden regions.

The Company had a number of stout ships built in Holland to convey
the emigrants and their stores. On the 25th of July, 1698, four of
these ships--the _St. Andrew_, the _Unicorn_, the _Caledonia_, and
the _Endeavour_--containing one thousand two hundred men, set sail
from Leith. Such was the excitement that all Edinburgh seemed to have
poured out to see the departure of the colonists, and hundreds of
soldiers and sailors who could not be engaged clamoured to be taken on
board. Many contrived to get into the vessels and endeavour to conceal
themselves in the hold, and when discovered they clung to the timbers
and riggings, offering service without pay.

When the vessels had sailed, the Scottish Parliament unanimously
addressed the king on behalf of the Company and the validity of the
charter. The Lord President, Sir Hugh Dalrymple, the brother of
Lord Stair, and Sir James Stuart, the Lord Advocate, also presented
memorials defending the rights of the Company. Paterson committed the
error of sailing in the fleet as a private individual. He had incurred
the resentment of the Company by having remitted twenty thousand pounds
to Hamburg for stores, part of which, through no fault of his own, was
embezzled by the agent. The Company, therefore, refused to give him
the command of the colony, but appointed a council of seven members
without a head. This was certain to entail want of unity of purpose,
and consequent failure. Paterson was the only man qualified by his
abilities, his experience, and his knowledge of the country to take
the command. He is said to have seen and conversed with the celebrated
buccaneer Dampier and his surgeon Lionel Wafer on the statistics of
Darien; and, if the expedition was sent at all, it should have been
under his entire control. Nothing, in the political circumstances,
could have insured the establishment of the colony; but Paterson's
guidance would have prevented the dire calamities which ensued. He was
certain that the vessels were not properly furnished with provisions
and stores before setting out, and he in vain urged an examination.
When out at sea a few days, he was enabled to get an examination, when
there was discovered to be a serious deficiency, but then it was too
late. They next sailed for Madeira, where their sealed orders were
opened, and they then bore away for the West Indies. They put into St.
Thomas's, and there might have obtained plenty of provisions from a
ship-captain but for the perverseness of the council. The advice of
Paterson was uniformly rejected out of jealousy. On the 30th of October
they landed in a fine bay on the coast of Darien, capable of holding
one thousand ships, and about four miles east of Golden Island.

The incapable council, in spite of Paterson's advice, would plant their
new town in a bog, but the effects on their health soon forced them to
remove to higher ground. They erected a fort and threw up defences at
Acta, which they named New St. Andrews; and on a hill opposite made a
signal-station, where they placed a corps of Highlanders to keep a good
look-out for the approach of any enemy.

But the miserable management of the council brought speedy misfortune
on the infant colony. The people were suffering from want of
everything. Paterson soon lost his wife, and numbers sank under
disappointment, insufficient food, and the climate. The natives were
friendly to them, but wanted them to go and fight the Spaniards. It was
soon found that the mountains and forests offered enormous obstacles
to a transit to the shores of the Pacific. The different leaders of
the expedition fell to quarrelling, and Paterson endeavoured in vain
to reconcile them. They sent out vessels to the West Indian islands
for provisions. One they lost, and another endeavouring to get to
New York, after beating about for a month, was driven back. Amid the
rapidly-sinking colonists and the fatal feuds of the leaders, they
received on the 18th of May, 1699, the stunning news that the king had
issued a proclamation denouncing the act of the colonists as having
infringed his treaty with Spain by forcibly entering the Spanish
territory of Panama, and forbidding any of the English governors of the
West Indian islands to furnish them with provisions or any necessaries.

The moment Louis XIV. heard of their settling in Darien he had offered
to the king of Spain to send ships and forces and drive them out for
him. The Spanish Minister at London, the Marquis de Canales, on the 3rd
of May presented a remonstrance against this breach of the peace with
his master. Dalrymple, who has left much information on this expedition
in his "Memoirs," says the Dutch and English opponents were at the
bottom of this remonstrance; that Spain had let the affair go on a long
time without noticing it; and that the rights of the Company had been
debated before William, in presence of the Spanish ambassador, before
the colony sailed. All this may be true, for the real destination
of the expedition was kept secret till the fleet arrived at Madeira,
and Spain protested as soon as she discovered whither it had gone.
William, who was just now making treaties with Louis, and anxious to be
on good terms with Spain, strictly enforced the orders to deprive the
suffering colony of all means of remaining. These measures of the king
produced the most fatal consequences in the colony. Every one, says
Paterson, was in haste to be gone from it. In vain he tried to persuade
them to stay for more positive orders. Pennicook, the captain of the
fleet, was reported to be intending to steal away with his ship, on the
supposition that they had all been proclaimed pirates, and would be
hanged. The poor colonists continued to die off rapidly, and news now
came that the Spaniards were marching against them with a strong force.

[Illustration: SCENE AT THE DEPARTURE FROM LEITH OF THE DARIEN
EXPEDITION. (_See p._ 512.)]

Famine, sickness, and the fear of being massacred in their weakness by
the enemy, compelled the colonists to evacuate the place. On the 18th
of June, 1699, the _Unicorn_, _St. Andrew_, and _Caledonia_ sailed from
Golden Island for New York. On the voyage they met the sloop which they
had sent to Jamaica for provisions. It had got none, owing to the royal
proclamation, and they all proceeded on their route. They lost one
hundred and fifty out of two hundred and fifty of their number on the
voyage, and arrived at New York in October, more like skeletons than
living men. On the 13th of November Paterson and his companions reached
England in the _Caledonia_. The indignation of the Scots at their
treatment was beyond bounds, and the more so because, unacquainted with
the real facts of the case, they had sent out a second expedition of
one thousand three hundred men.

The history of this second expedition was as miserable as that of the
first. On arriving, the new adventurers, instead of a flourishing
colony, found the place deserted, and only a few miserable Indians
to tell them the fate of their predecessors. With this new arrival
came four Presbyterian clergymen, who assumed the command, and seemed
to think of nothing but establishing a presbytery in all its rigour
and uncharitableness. Paterson, like Penn in Pennsylvania, and Lord
Baltimore in Baltimore, had proclaimed perfect civil and religious
liberty to men of all creeds and nations. This was now reversed; there
was nothing but the most harsh and senseless Phariseeism. Instead of a
comfort, these men proved one of the worst curses of this unfortunate
colony, thwarting and damping the exertions of the people, and
continually threatening them with hell fire. Two of these ministers
perished.

In the midst of these miseries arrived Captain Campbell, of Ferrol,
with a force of his own men. He attacked and dispersed a body of one
thousand Spaniards sent against him; but this was only a fresh offence
against Spain, and, therefore, against William. They were soon,
however, assailed by a more powerful Spanish squadron. Campbell got
away to New York, the rest of the colony capitulated, and there was an
end of the unhappy expedition to Darien. The Spaniards humanely allowed
the remnant of this wretched company to embark in one of their vessels,
the _Rising Sun_; but as the British authorities at all the islands
refused them any succour or stores whatever, only eighty of them
arrived alive in England.

Scotland was in a frenzy of indignation at this cold-blooded conduct
of the king, who, if he had visited the projectors with severity,
ought to have had some compassion for the poor deluded sufferers. The
exasperated Scots called on the king to withdraw his proclamation
against a Company which had an undoubted right by charter to trade
to the West Indies, if not to the mainland. They demanded that the
Scottish Parliament should be summoned; but William only sent evasive
answers, and the fury of the people rose to such a height that nothing
was talked of but that the king had forfeited his right to the
allegiance of Scotland by his conduct, and of war with England.

Meanwhile the partition treaty had become known to the Court at Madrid,
and William's share in it excited great indignation. At the same time
the agents of Louis had prevailed on the dying king to nominate the
Electoral Prince of Bavaria his heir to the crown. Scarcely, however,
was this done when this young prince died, being only eight years of
age. Louis still kept up the farce of disinterestedness, and persuaded
William to enter into a second treaty, mentioned later on, settling
the crown of Spain on the Archduke Charles, but leaving the Italian
States to the Dauphin. Again were William, Portland, and Tallard,
with an agent of the Emperor, busy on the new partition at Loo. But
whilst they were busy there, the French ambassador was equally busy at
Madrid, inflaming the mind of the imbecile king against William and
the Emperor, and prevailed on him, as we shall see, to leave the whole
Spanish monarchy to the Dauphin's son Philip. The king of Spain was
also induced to send a strong remonstrance against the interference
of William in the affairs of the Spanish monarchy to Mr. Stanhope,
the English Minister at Madrid. Similar remonstrances were presented
for form's sake to the Ministers of France and Holland. The Spanish
Minister in London, Canales, was ordered to present a still stronger
remonstrance to the Lords Justices in London, in which the Court of
Spain informed them that his Spanish Majesty would take the necessary
measures himself for the succession of his crown; adding that if these
proceedings, these machinations and projects, were not speedily put an
end to, there would undoubtedly commence a terrible war, in which the
English, who had felt what the last war had brought upon them, would
have the worst of it. Canales, who had a high personal resentment
against William, who had forbidden him the Court for the insolence
of appearing covered, announced haughtily that on the meeting of
Parliament he should appeal to it against the king's proceedings.

No sooner was this paper transmitted to Loo than William sent orders
to the Spanish ambassador to quit England in eighteen days, and
during that period to confine himself to his house. He was informed
that no communication whatever would be received from him or any of
his servants. Mr. Stanhope was instructed at the Court of Madrid to
complain of this conduct of Canales, as an attempt to excite sedition
in the kingdom by appealing to the people and Parliament against
the king. Mr. Stanhope was then instructed to cease all diplomatic
intercourse with the Court and to return home. The Spanish Court, on
its part, justified the act of its Minister, and Mr. Stanhope took his
leave. The Spanish ambassador at the Hague delivered a similar memorial
to that delivered in London, which the States-General refused to read.
In these circumstances William returned to England about the middle of
October.

The temper of his people had not improved during his absence. The
Tories were bent on driving every Whig from office. They even now
compelled the lately all-powerful Montague to resign his seat at
the Treasury Board as well as the Chancellorship of the Exchequer.
Montague was well aware of the humour of the present House of Commons,
and anticipated an attack on his two offices by his resignation.
Lord Tankerville, formerly Lord Grey of Wark, took his place at the
Treasury, and Smith, another member of that Board, became Chancellor.
At the same time William gave the office of Lord Chamberlain to the
Duke of Shrewsbury, vacant since the retirement of Sunderland. Besides
Shrewsbury, there remained no other Whig in office except Somers, and
the Tories were at this moment endeavouring to spring a mine under his
feet.

William met his Parliament on the 16th of November. He addressed them
with much studied care to avoid topics of offence, but he found it
impossible. He recommended them to take further measures, both by
sea and land, for the safety of the kingdom, to punish unlawful and
clandestine trading, and to devise, if possible, measures for the
employment of the poor. He expressed his resolution to discourage vice,
and declared that he would do anything in his power towards the welfare
of the nation. "And to conclude," he said, "since our aims are only for
the general good, let us act with confidence in each other; which will
not fail, with God's blessing, to make me a happy king, and you a great
and flourishing people."

The very words "let us act with confidence" roused up this captious
Parliament. They sent him a remonstrance instead of an Address of
thanks, complaining of there being some who endeavoured to sow
distrust and dissension between them and the king. It was in vain that
William protested that this supposition was totally unfounded, and
that if any should presume to bring to him any calumnies against his
faithful Commons, he would treat them as his worst enemies; they were
unappeased. They wanted, in fact, occasion to drive Somers from his
councils, and they soon found a plea.

During the war, piracy had grown to a great height upon the coasts
of North America, and the colonists were themselves deep in it. Lord
Bellamont, the Governor of New York, had recommended that a man-of-war
should be sent to clear the pirates away; but the Admiralty objected
that they had not sailors enough to spare for such a service. It was
then determined by the Lord Chancellor Somers, the Duke of Shrewsbury,
the Earls of Romney, Orford, and Bellamont, with a few private
individuals, to send out a vessel at their own expense. This the king
approved of, and promised to contribute one-half of the expense, and
stipulated for one-tenth of the profits. Besides the usual letters of
marque given to privateers, the captain was furnished with a warrant
under the Great Seal, authorising him to make war on the pirates
and the French, both in those and other seas. Unfortunately, this
commission was given to a man who was himself a notorious pirate--one
Captain Kidd, whose fame still lives on the American coasts, and is the
theme of popular ballads. The man promptly showed in his true colours.

The old East India Company complained bitterly of Kidd's outrages in
the Indian seas, declaring that they would bring it into trouble with
the Great Mogul. In the beginning of December a motion was made in the
Commons that "the letters patent granted to the Earl of Bellamont and
others of pirates' goods were dishonourable to the king, and contrary
to the laws of nations and the laws and statutes of the realm, invasive
of property, and destructive of trade and commerce." There was a
violent debate, in which the Tories contended that the Lord Chancellor
Somers had knowingly affixed the Great Seal to the commission to
enrich himself, his colleagues, and the king, out of the plunder of
unfortunate merchants. The motion was rejected by a large majority; the
character of Somers stood too high for such a charge to reach him. But
the Opposition did not rest here; it was determined to wound the king
and his Government in every possible quarter.

There lay a cause in Ireland much more dangerous to the king and his
Chancellor than the affairs of Captain Kidd. William had promised
not to bestow any of the confiscated lands there without consent of
Parliament. In disregard of his word he had conferred immense estates
on his Dutch favourites, Portland, Albemarle, Athlone, and his French
one, Lord Galway (Ruvigny), as well as on his mistress, Mrs. Villiers.
The Commons, therefore, appointed Commissioners to inquire into the
royal grants there. These Commissioners were the Earl of Drogheda, Sir
Francis Brewster, Sir Richard Leving, Hamilton, Annesley, Trenchard,
and Langford. The four last-named Commissioners were earnest supporters
of the Commons' inquiry; but it was soon perceived by them that the
Earl of Drogheda, Brewster, and Leving were in the interest of the
Government. When they came to draw up their report, those three
Commissioners vehemently dissented, and made an appeal to each House
of Parliament, declaring that the report had not their concurrence,
and that it was not borne out by the evidence laid before them. They
complained that the other Commissioners had endeavoured to overbear
them in a most arbitrary manner, trying to influence them by letters
and instructions which they alleged they had received from members of
the Commons. The Commons, however, regarding Drogheda, Brewster, and
Leving as tools of the Court, paid no attention to their remonstrance.
They received the report signed by the other four, who, on their
part, complained that in the prosecution of their inquiry they had
been greatly hindered by the backwardness of the people of Ireland to
give information for fear of the vengeance of the grantees, and from
reports industriously spread that the inquiry, through the influence
of the Crown and the new grantees, would come to nothing. The three
dissentient Commissioners agreed to much of this, but attributed the
fear of the people to the grantees at large, and not to those recently
favoured by Government. They affirmed that John Burke, commonly called
Lord Bophin, had agreed to pay to Lord Albemarle seven thousand five
hundred pounds for procuring from the king letters patent restoring
him to his honours and estates. They gave amazing details of the
wholesale plunder of cattle, horses, sheep, etc., from the Catholics,
which had never been accounted for to the Crown. The report stated the
persons who had been outlawed since the 13th of February, 1689, for
participation in the rebellion amounted in England to fifty-seven, but
in Ireland to 3,921; that the lands confiscated in Ireland since that
period amounted to 1,060,792 acres, with a rental of £211,623; which,
at twenty years' purchase were of the value of over £4,000,000; that
some of these lands had been restored to their ancient proprietors, but
chiefly by heavy bribes to the persons who had betrayed his Majesty's
trust in them. They then gave a list of seventy-six grants under the
Great Seal, amongst which stood prominent those to Lord Romney, who as
Lord Sidney had been Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, consisting of 49,517
acres; two to the king's recent favourite, Keppel of Guelderland, made
by William Earl of Albemarle, amounting to 106,633 acres; to William
Bentinck, Lord Woodstock, the son of Portland, 135,820 acres; to
Ginkell, Earl of Athlone, 26,480 acres; and to Ruvigny, the Huguenot,
Earl of Galway, 36,148 acres. After all the deductions and allowances,
they valued the estates forfeited since the 13th of February, 1689, and
not restored at £2,699,343--a ridiculous over-estimate.

The Commons instantly set themselves to frame a Bill of Resumption
of all the grants. They ordered the report of the Commissioners, the
speeches and promises of the king regarding these forfeited estates,
and their former resolutions regarding them, to be printed, that the
whole country might judge of this matter for itself. And they resolved
that any member of the Privy Council who should procure or be concerned
in procuring grants from the Crown for their own purposes, should be
deemed guilty of a high crime and misdemeanour. As the Tories were
the means of carrying this Resumption Bill, the Whigs, to avenge
themselves, moved by way of amendment that all grants made since the
6th of February, 1684, should be resumed, and the Tories were caught in
their own snare, for they could not with any show of consistency oppose
a measure of their own originating. Therefore the Bill passed, and they
were compelled to disgorge all the Crown property they had settled on
themselves from the accession of James. Ministers proposed to insert a
clause to reserve one third of the forfeited property for the king's
own disposal; but the Commons would not listen to it, and resolved not
to receive any petition from any person whatever concerning the grants.
That justice might be done to purchasers and creditors in the Act of
Resumption, they appointed thirteen trustees to hear and determine all
claims, to sell to the highest purchasers, and to appropriate the money
to pay the arrears of the army. The Lords introduced some alterations,
but the Commons rejected them, and to prevent the Bill from being lost
in the Lords they consolidated it with a money Bill for the service of
the year. The Lords demanded a conference, and the Commons, exasperated
at their interference in a money Bill, prepared to go greater lengths.
They assumed the aspect of the Commons in Charles I.'s time. They
ordered the doors to be closed, and called for a list of the Privy
Councillors. They then moved that John, Lord Somers, should be expelled
from the service of the king for ever. The resolution was not carried,
but the temper of the House was such as made wise men tremble for an
approaching crisis. The king was disposed to refuse to pass the Bill
even if the Lords did; but when the Commons left the Bill in the hands
of the Lords, and that House was warned on all sides that they would
have to pass the Bill, or the consequences might be fatal, he gave way,
though with undisguised resentment. The Commons were proceeding with a
fresh resolution for an address to his Majesty, praying that not any
foreigner, except Prince George of Denmark, should be admitted to his
Majesty's Council in England or Ireland, the resolution being aimed at
Portland, Albemarle, and Galway, when the king sent a private message
to the peers, desiring them to pass the Resumption Bill, and on the
11th of April he went down to the House, and gave it the royal assent.
He then ordered the Earl of Bridgewater, in the absence of Somers, who
was ill, to prorogue Parliament, and it was accordingly prorogued to
the 23rd of May without any speech.

William left England in the beginning of July, but before his departure
he endeavoured to persuade Somers to give way to the rancour of the
Commons, and resign the Seals. Somers refused to resign voluntarily,
arguing that it would imply a fear of his enemies, or a consciousness
of guilt; but William, who knew the necessity of leaving a better
feeling behind him if possible, sent Lord Jersey to Somers for the
Seals, and offered them successively to Chief Justice Holt, and to
Treby the Attorney-General; both declined, however, what would have
turned the enmity of Parliament on them, and William was eventually
obliged to bestow them on Nathan Wright, one of the Serjeants-at-Law,
a man of no mark and very indifferent qualifications for the office.
William offered the government of Ireland to Shrewsbury; but he, too,
declined the office, and set out for Italy. Every one seemed afraid of
engaging in his Government, so bitter was the Parliament against him.
Even his trusty Portland, now absolutely groaning under the weight of
riches which William had heaped upon him, retired from his place in his
household, and Lord Jersey was appointed Chamberlain, and Lord Romney,
Groom of the Stole. William had never left the kingdom in circumstances
of so much unpopularity, and scarcely had he gone when the Duke of
Gloucester, the only child of the Princess Anne, died at the age of
eleven (July 30, 1700). This gave fresh hopes to the Jacobites. They
sent a messenger to St. Germains with the news, and began to bestir
themselves all over the kingdom. In truth, the outlook was very gloomy
for the Protestant succession. No such successor was as yet appointed.
The health and spirits of William were fast sinking. His person and
government were extremely unpopular. The House of Brunswick had
treated his advances with marked contempt, but they now came forward,
urged by the critical state of things, and made their first visit of
acknowledgment to the king. The Princess Sophia, Electress Dowager
of Hanover, was the person on whom the eyes of the Protestants were
now turned; but the nation was in a state of much uncertainty. It was
rumoured that even Anne had sent a conciliatory letter to her father,
and the public mind was disturbed by fears of a disputed succession,
and of the reviving chances of a Stuart king.

William during this year had been busy concluding the new treaty
of partition. Tallard, Portland, and Jersey had assisted in it. It
was signed by them in London early in March, and by Briord and the
Plenipotentiaries of the States at the Hague on the 25th of October.
It had substituted the Archduke Charles, the second son of the
Emperor, for the deceased Electoral Prince of Bavaria, as heir to
Spain with the Spanish Flanders and colonies; but the Dauphin was
still to possess Naples and the other Italian States, with Lorraine
and Bar, which the Duke of Lorraine was to exchange for Milan. In case
of the archduke dying, some other son of the Emperor was to succeed,
but not the king of the Romans, for it was stipulated that Spain and
the Empire, or France and Spain, were never to be united under one
crown. The first treaty was made known to the different Powers, and
excited much astonishment and disapprobation. The Emperor of Germany,
notwithstanding his son was made successor to the Spanish monarchy,
Flanders, America, and the Indies, was not conciliated. He expressed
his amazement that the kings of other countries should take it upon
them to carve up the Spanish monarchy without the consent of the
present possessor and the Estates of the kingdom. He denied the right
of these Powers to compel him to accept a part when he was heir to the
whole, and to pronounce his forfeiture of even that part if within
three months he did not consent to this unwarrantable proceeding.
The other princes of Germany were unwilling to excite the enmity of
the House of Austria by expressing their approval of the scheme, and
Brandenburg, which was just now in treaty with the Emperor for the
acknowledgment of Prussia as a kingdom, which was signed on the 16th of
November, of course united with him. The Italian States were alarmed at
the prospects of being handed over to France, and the Swiss declined to
sanction the treaty. In Spain the aristocracy, who had vast estates in
Sicily, Naples, and the other Italian provinces, and who enjoyed the
viceroyalties, and governorships, and other good offices there, were
greatly incensed at the idea of all these passing to the French.

The miserable and dying king was in agonies. He had already made a
will, leaving the crown and all its dependencies to the Emperor, but
neither he nor the Emperor had taken the precaution of securing the
Italian provinces by marching a strong army thither--probably from
fear of arousing Louis to a premature war. He now called a Council
of State to deliberate on the succession; but the unfortunate prince
had to deliberate with a Council which had long been bought over by
the French. Only two of the Council had the patriotism to vote that
the question should be submitted to the Cortes; they were overborne
by the voices of the rest, who had been corrupted by Harcourt, the
French Minister. Amongst them were prominent the Marquis de Monterey
and Cardinal Portocarrero. They advised that they should consult
the faculties of law and theology, and these faculties were already
bribed by France. The French faction persuaded further the starving
people that all their troubles had been produced by the partisans of
Austria; and the enraged mob surrounded the palace and demanded to
see the king, who was compelled to show himself, though he was too
weak to stand without help. All this time the condition of the king of
Spain was frightful. His conscience, accustomed to be swayed by his
religious advisers, was torn to and fro by the contending exertions of
Portocarrero and the queen. Portocarrero was a man of vast influence;
he was not only cardinal but Archbishop of Toledo, and affected a deep
concern for the king. Charles, intensely attached to his own family,
and having a strong persuasion that its claims were the claims of the
nation, was yet so tortured by the arguments of the priests of the
opposite factions, and the entreaties of the queen, that no poor soul
was ever in so dreadful a purgatory. At length, after the most violent
contests, he sank in passive weakness, and on the 2nd of October he
signed the will dictated by France. Having done it, he burst into
tears, and sighed out "Now I am nothing!"

But this signing was effected in deepest secrecy; neither the queen
nor any one but a small junto of the French faction was aware of it.
As Charles, however, still lingered between life and death for a month
yet, the French made every preparation for the event, and Portocarrero
took possession of the Great Seals, and dispersed all his agents, so as
to secure the transfer of the crown to France. On the 1st of November,
1700, the unhappy monarch died, at the age of thirty-nine, and the will
was made known, to the consternation of the queen and the Austrian and
English ambassadors, who were till that moment in profound ignorance of
it. As soon as the news reached Paris, Count Zinzendorf, the Imperial
ambassador, presented himself at Versailles, and inquired whether the
king meant to abide by the treaty of partition or accept the will. The
Marquis de Torcy answered for Louis that he meant certainly to abide by
the treaty. But this was only to gain time. Louis had long made up his
mind, and when he heard that Charles was dead, he exclaimed, "There are
no longer any Pyrenees." William's statesmanlike plans had been foiled
by his confederate's treachery.

William had returned to England towards the end of October, a few days
before the death of the King of Spain. He was deeply chagrined at this
unexpected event, but, in the present temper of England--disgusted
with his proceedings with Louis for the partition of Spain--he could
not openly complain. Not the less, however, did he unburthen his
feelings to his friend the Pensionary Heinsius. Writing to him, he
said, "I never relied much on the engagements with France, but I must
confess that I did not think they would on this occasion have broken,
in the face of the whole world, a solemn treaty before it was well
accomplished." He confessed that he had been duped, and that he felt it
the more because his English subjects did not disguise their opinion
that the will was better than the partition, against which one party
had complained because of the large amount given to France, the other
at the injustice of forestalling the wishes of the French, and both
at the secrecy with which the negotiations had been conducted. He
expressed his deep anxiety regarding the Spanish Netherlands, which, it
seemed, must fall into the hands of France, and as to what barrier was
to be set up between them and Holland; and he concluded by saying that
he should bear all the blame for having trusted to France after his
experience that no trust was to be put in it.

But, besides his health and the mortification of Louis's triumphant
deceit, William had plenty of troubles from the temper of his
Parliament, and the state of the factions which harassed his
Government. With such gloomy auspices came in the year 1701. The king
had now replaced the retiring Whigs of his Ministry by Tories. Lord
Godolphin was made First Commissioner of the Treasury; Lord Tankerville
succeeded Lord Lonsdale, deceased, as Privy Seal; Lord Rochester
was sent as Lord-Lieutenant to Ireland; and Sir Charles Hedges was
appointed Secretary of State. By their advice Parliament was dissolved,
and writs were issued for the meeting of the new one on the 6th of
February.

When Parliament met, it was found that the late Speaker, Sir Thomas
Littleton, had absented himself from the House, and the Tories proposed
in his stead Robert Harley, who was now fast rising into favour with
that party. The king had requested Littleton, in fact, to withdraw,
that the Tories might get in their man; but there was such a ferment
in the House that it was obliged to be adjourned till the 20th. Then
the Whigs brought forward Sir Richard Onslow, but he was defeated by a
majority of two hundred and forty-nine to one hundred and twenty-five.
This showed that a strong Tory Commons had been returned, and yet it
was not true that all the Tories were unanimous. There was, indeed, a
considerable breach in the party. Those of them who had been passed
over in the selection of the Ministry, or had other causes of pique
against the Government, remained in opposition, and occasioned the
king and their own party no little embarrassment. Amongst these were
the Duke of Leeds, the Marquis of Normanby, the Earl of Nottingham,
Seymour, Musgrave, Howe, Finch, and Showers. It was strongly suspected,
too, that Louis had made use of Tallard to bribe some members of
Parliament and of the Government to an awful extent to oppose any
measures for war and Continental combinations.

In his opening speech William informed the Parliament that the death
of the Duke of Gloucester had rendered it necessary that they should
take into consideration the succession to the Crown after him and the
Princess Anne, who had now no heir; for the happiness of the nation
and the security of the Protestant religion made it the subject of the
highest moment. The subject of next importance, and scarcely inferior,
he said, was the death of the late King of Spain, and the succession
arranged by his will, which had made so great an alteration in affairs
abroad as demanded their most serious consideration for the interests
and safety of England, and the preservation of the peace of Europe
and of the Protestant religion. That these great topics might have
due consideration, he had desired that they should receive it in a
new Parliament. He next referred to the necessity for making a proper
provision for the current expenditure, and for the reduction of the
debt, and recommended them to put the fleet into effective condition.

The Electress Sophia of Hanover, the next in succession to Anne, was
the daughter of Frederick the Prince Palatine, and Elizabeth Queen
of Bohemia, therefore granddaughter of James I. No sooner did Sophia
hear of the death of the Duke of Gloucester than she took with her her
daughter, the Electress of Brandenburg, and made a visit to William
at Loo. She had a twofold object, to obtain his promise of favouring
her succession to the crown of England, and his acknowledgment of
Brandenburg as a kingdom under the name of Prussia, a favour which the
Emperor, as we have seen, had already conceded. William seems to have
assured the Electress of his intention to support both her claim to
the English crown, and that of her daughter to the title of Queen of
Prussia, and immediately left for England.

[Illustration: THE ROYAL PALACE OF WHITEHALL FROM THE THAMES, IN THE
BEGINNING OF THE 17TH CENTURY.]

At the same time, the Court of St. Germains was on the alert to get the
Prince of Wales accepted, and the English Jacobites sent Mr. F. Graham,
a brother of the late Lord Preston, to James, to make certain proposals
regarding the succession of the Prince of Wales. It was proposed that
he should be sent to England and there educated in Protestantism; but
this condition James was certain not to agree to, and accordingly the
whole scheme fell to the ground. It is said that the Princess Anne was
favourable to the prince's succession could he have been brought up a
Protestant; but his parents declared that they would rather see him
dead.

The Tories, who were averse from a Continental war, appear to have
held a large meeting, to propose an address to his Majesty, praying
him to acknowledge the new King of Spain; and had they done this, they
would probably have found the king ready to listen to them, for the
States were urging him to do the same thing. But though the proposition
was warmly advocated, Mr. Monckton, happening to say that if they
carried this motion, the next he supposed would be to recommend the
acknowledgment of the Prince of Wales, the idea appeared to startle
the meeting, and the matter was dropped. But the Whig party was
still inclined to war. They had been the advocates and supporters of
the former one; they knew that William was strongly disposed to it,
and that to support him was the way to regain his favour. Besides,
Marlborough was anxious to distinguish himself at the head of an army;
in that respect he was at one with the Whigs, and had their support.
The Whigs saw the fast-failing health of William, and looked towards
the Princess Anne with whom the Marlboroughs were everything. A strong
spirit of war, therefore, manifested itself in the Commons, in spite of
the inclinations of Ministers. Secretary Vernon, writing to the Earl
of Manchester at Paris, told him that so great a spirit had rarely
been seen in the House of Commons for supporting the interests of
England and Holland; and this was fully borne out by a unanimous vote
of the House on the 24th of February, declaring that it would stand
by the king, and support him in all such measures as went to maintain
the independence of England, the security of the Protestant religion,
and the peace of Europe. The question, however, of the best mode of
maintaining peace, whether by conceding the French claims on Spain, or
arming to resist them, was warmly debated by the different factions.
William was agreeably surprised at the tone of the House, and on the
17th he informed them of his satisfaction at their assurances, which
he took to be important for the honour and safety of England. He then
handed to them the pressing memorial of the States-General to him, to
acknowledge the Duke of Anjou as the king of Spain. They had themselves
agreed to do this, in terror lest the French should march over their
defenceless frontiers; yet they told William that they would do nothing
without his consent and approbation. They counted, however, fully on
this, and painted earnestly the dangers to which they were exposed
by any opposition to France, and called on him to supply the English
aid secured to them by treaty. But they did not seem inclined to vote
supplies for the purpose.

Parliament now entered on the great deliberation of the Session,
the appointment of the successor to the crown after the Princess of
Denmark. It was a subject which the king had recommended from the
throne at the commencement of the Session, and which the failing health
of William and the prospect of agitations all over Europe warned them
not to defer. This important business, however, was set about in an
extraordinary manner. Roger Coke says a Whig member meant to bring in
a Bill to fix the succession on the House of Brunswick, but that the
Tories, becoming aware of it, set Sir John Bowles, one of their own
party, to bring one in. This Bowles was a half-crazy man, and in the
end became altogether insane; and the Bill being put into his hands
looked as though the Tories meant to cast contempt upon it. The Bill
was sent into Committee, and Bowles was put in the chair; but whenever
the discussion was brought in the members hastened out of the House,
and the matter seemed to hang for several weeks as though no one would
proceed with it under the present management. But at length Harley took
it up in earnest, and remarked that there were some very necessary
preliminary questions to be settled before they proceeded to vote the
different clauses of the Bill; that the nation had been in too great
haste when it settled the Government on the previous occasion, and had
consequently overlooked many securities to the liberties of the nation
which might have been obtained; that now they were under no immediate
pressure, and it would be inexcusable to fall into the same error.
Before, therefore, they proceeded to nominate the person who should
succeed, they ought to settle the conditions under which he and his
descendants should succeed. This advice was taken, much to the surprise
of William, who found the Tories, now in the ascendant, endeavouring to
curtail the royal prerogative, and by every one of their restrictions
casting a decided censure upon him. The public, likewise, were so
much puzzled by this conduct that they suspected that the motion of
Harley was intended to defeat the Brunswick succession altogether. But
the terms on which William and Mary had been admitted to the throne
were the work of the Whigs, and the Tories could not let slip this
opportunity of showing how negligent they had been of the rights of the
nation.

Accordingly, after great discussions carried on for about three
months, the following resolutions were agreed to and embodied in the
Bill:--"That whoever should hereafter come to the possession of this
Crown shall join in communion with the Church of England as by law
established; that in case the Crown and dignity of this realm shall
hereafter come to any person not being a native of this kingdom of
England, this nation be not obliged to engage in any war for the
defence of any dominions or territories which do not belong to the
Crown of England without the consent of Parliament; that no person
who shall hereafter come to the possession of the Crown shall go out
of the dominions of England, Scotland, or Ireland without consent of
Parliament; that from and after the time that further limitations by
this Act shall take effect, all matters and things relating to the
well-governing of this kingdom, which are properly cognisable in the
Privy Council by the laws and customs of the realm, shall be transacted
there, and all resolutions taken thereupon shall be signed by such
of the Privy Council as shall advise and consent to the same; that
after the limitations shall take effect, no person born out of the
kingdom of England, Scotland, or Ireland, or the dominions thereunto
belonging, although he be naturalised and made a denizen, except such
as are born of English parents, shall be capable to be of the Privy
Council, or a member of either House of Parliament, or to enjoy any
office or place of trust, either civil or military, or to have any
grant of lands, tenements, or hereditaments from the Crown to himself,
or to any other in trust for him; that no person who has an office or
place of profit under the King, or receives a pension from the Crown,
shall be capable of serving as a member of the House of Commons; that
after the limitation shall take effect, judges' commissions shall be
made _quamdiu se bene gesserint_,[A] and their salaries ascertained and
established, but, upon the address of both Houses of Parliament, it
may be lawful to remove them; that no pardon under the Great Seal of
England be pleadable to an impeachment by the Commons in Parliament."
Having settled these preliminaries, the Bill provided that the Princess
Sophia, Duchess Dowager of Hanover, be declared the next in succession
to the Crown of England in the Protestant line after his Majesty and
the Princess Anne, and the heirs of their bodies respectively; and that
the further limitation of the Crown be to the said Princess Sophia and
the heirs of her body, being Protestants.

When this extraordinary Bill was sent up to the Lords, it was not
expected to pass there without much opposition and cutting down. There
was, in fact, an evident reluctance there, as well as in the Commons,
to enter on the question. Many lords absented themselves, and others,
as the Marquis of Normanby, the Earls of Huntingdon and Plymouth, and
the Lords Guildford and Jeffreys, opposed it. Burnet attempted to
move some amendments; but some lords crying out "No amendments! no
amendments!" none were further attempted, and the Bill was sent down to
the Commons as it went up.

Had such a sweeping Bill as this passed the Houses some years ago,
William would have refused to ratify it, as he refused so long to
ratify the Triennial Bill. Certainly it was from beginning to end the
most trenchant piece of censure on his conduct.

During these transactions negotiations were going on at the Hague
between England, France, Holland, and Spain. Mr. Stanhope, Envoy
Extraordinary to the States-General, was empowered to treat, in union
with Holland, for a continuation of the peace on certain conditions.
These conditions were, that Louis should withdraw all his troops from
the Spanish Netherlands, and engage to send no fresh ones into any of
the Flemish towns; that no troops but native-born troops of Flanders or
Spain should be kept there, except in Nieuport and Ostend, which should
be given up to king William as cautionary towns, and in Luxemburg,
Namur, and Mons, which should be garrisoned by the States-General, for
the security of their frontiers, but without prejudice to the rights
and revenues of the Crown of Spain; that no towns in the Spanish
Netherlands, nor any port belonging to Spain, should be given up to
or exchanged with France on any pretence whatever; that the subjects
of England should enjoy the same liberties and privileges as they did
on the demise of the late king of Spain, and in as ample a manner as
the French or any other nation, in all parts of the Spanish dominions,
whether by land or sea; that the Emperor should be invited to join,
and that any other princes or States who desired to unite for the
preservation of the peace of Europe should be admitted to the treaty.

D'Avaux, the French Minister, received these demands with an air of
the utmost astonishment, and declared that they could not have been
higher if his master had lost four successive battles. That the French
troops would be removed from Flanders as soon as Spain could send
forces to replace them, he said was certain; but for the rest of the
Articles, he could only send them to Versailles for the consideration
of the king. Louis expressed the utmost indignation at these demands,
which he declared to be most insolent, and could only be put forward
by William with a desire to provoke a war. He said that he would
renew the treaty of Ryswick, which was all that could be reasonably
expected. In fact, though the demands were no more than were necessary
for the security of Holland, William, knowing the nature of Louis,
and that he was now at the head of France, Spain, and a great part
of Italy, could not seriously have expected that he would accede to
them. Perhaps William intended him to reject them, as that would
furnish a good _casus belli_, and would enable him to rouse the spirit
of the English people to a martial tone. Accordingly he communicated
the refusal of the French Court to accede to the terms offered; but
the Commons, feeling that the object was to engage them in support of
a Continental Congress, which might lead them into another war more
oppressive than the former one, they thanked his Majesty in an address
for his communication, but called for copies of the Partition Treaty,
that they might inform themselves on the precise terms agreed upon
in that treaty with France. The Tories, however much they might be
disposed to maintain the same course themselves, would by no means omit
the opportunity of damaging the Whig Ministers who had been concerned
in that business. They had already agreed to send ten thousand men to
the aid of the States-General in support of the treaty of 1677, and
they now set to work to establish by this inquiry a plea against Lord
Somers, Portland, and the others engaged in the treaty.

The Lords, not to be behind, also called for copies of the two
treaties. They appointed a Committee to examine them, and placed
Nottingham, a thorough Tory, in the chair. There was a sprinkling of
Whigs in the Committee to give it an air of fairness, and a strong
contest went on between the two parties. On the fourth resolution, that
there were no instructions in writing given to the Plenipotentiaries
of England, and that, if verbal orders were given, they were given
without being submitted to the Council, Portland, who had been almost
the sole manager of these treaties, in conjunction with William, by
permission of the king informed them that he had, by the king's order,
laid the matter before six of the king's Ministers--namely, Pembroke,
Marlborough, Lonsdale, Somers, Halifax, and Secretary Vernon. These
lords then endeavoured to excuse themselves by admitting that, the
Earl of Jersey having read the first treaty to them, they had objected
to various particulars, but being informed that the king had already
carried the matter as far as possible, and could get no better terms,
and that, in fact, everything was settled, they had nothing for it but
to desist from their objections. Various protests were entered against
the resolutions in Committee, but the Report, when brought up, was to
this effect:--That the lords spiritual and temporal had found, to their
great sorrow, that the treaty made with the French king had been very
prejudicial to the peace and safety of Europe; that it had probably
given occasion to the late king of Spain to make his will in favour of
the Duke of Anjou; that the sanction of France having possession of
Sicily, Naples, several ports in the Mediterranean, the province of
Guipuzcoa, and the Duchy of Lorraine, was not only very injurious to
the interests of Europe, but contrary to the pretence of the treaty
itself, which was to prevent too many territories being united under
one crown; that it appeared that this treaty never was submitted to the
consideration of the Council, or the Committee of the Council [in our
phrase, the Cabinet], and they prayed his Majesty in future to take
the advice of his natural-born subjects, whose interest and natural
affection to their country would induce them to seek its welfare and
prosperity. This last observation was aimed at Portland.

The Ministers, such as were admitted to the secret of the treaty, as
well as the king, had undoubtedly violated the Constitution; and had
the Tories been honest, they might have rendered essential service to
the country by punishing them. But their object was too apparently to
crush Portland and Somers, and to let the rest go, whom they quietly
passed over. The new Lord Keeper carried up the address to the king,
but the members at large, not relishing the unpleasant office, took
care not to accompany him, and he found himself at the palace almost
alone. Two or three of the lords-in-waiting were all that served to
represent the House of Peers. On its being read, William endeavoured
to conceal his chagrin, and merely replied that the address contained
matter of grave moment, and that he would always take care that all
treaties should be made so as to contribute to the honour and safety of
England.

The debates in the Commons were in the meantime still more vehement on
the same subject. Sir Edward Seymour declared that the Partition Treaty
was as infamous as a highway robbery, and Howe went further, denouncing
it as a felonious treaty; an expression which so exasperated the king
that he protested, if the disparity of condition between him and that
member had not been too great, he would have demanded satisfaction by
his sword. These discussions in the two Houses excited out of doors
a general condemnation of the treaty, and threw fresh odium on the
Government.

On the last day of March a message was communicated to both Houses
by Secretary Hedges, that no further negotiation appeared possible
with France, from its decided rejection of the terms offered, and its
continuing to concede only the renewal of the treaty of Ryswick. The
Commons, instead of an immediate answer, adjourned to the 2nd of April,
and then resolved unanimously to desire his Majesty to carry on the
negotiations with the States-General, and take such measures as should
conduce to the safety of the kingdom. In reply to two resolutions from
the States-General, and a memorial presented by their envoy in England,
which the king laid before them, they assured him that they would
support him, supplying the twenty ships and ten thousand men which they
were bound to find by the treaty of 1677. This gave no sanction to any
negotiations for a fresh alliance with the Powers formerly combined
against France; and William was deeply mortified, but he merely thanked
them for their assurances of aid, and informed them that he had sent
orders to his Ambassador at the Hague still to endeavour to come to
terms with France and Spain.

On the 19th of April the Marquis de Torcy handed to the Earl of
Manchester, at Paris, a letter from the new king of Spain to the king
of England, announcing his accession to the throne, and expressing a
desire to cultivate terms of friendship with him. This announcement had
been made long before to the other European Powers, and it might well
have been doubted whether William would now acknowledge his right. To
do that was to admit the validity of the late king of Spain's will,
and there could then be no real reason to refuse the conditions of the
treaty of Ryswick. William was from this cause in a state of great
perplexity; but the Earl of Rochester and the new Ministers urged him
to reply and admit the Duke of Anjou's right. The States-General had
already done it, and, in fact, unless England and the old allies of
the Emperor were prepared to dispute it with efficient arms, it was
useless to refuse. Accordingly, after a severe struggle with himself,
William wrote to "the Most Serene and Potent Prince, Brother, and
Cousin," congratulating him on his happy arrival in his kingdom of
Spain, and expressing his assurance that the ancient friendship between
the two Crowns would remain inviolate, to the mutual advantage and
prosperity of the two nations. With this was certainly ended every
right of England to dispute the possession of all the territories and
dependencies of the Spanish monarch by the new king; and there could
be no justifiable cause of war with France until she attempted to renew
her hostilities to neighbouring peoples.

Whilst affairs were in this position abroad, the anxiety of William
was increased to the utmost by the war which was waging between the
two rival factions in Parliament. In endeavouring to damage the Whigs
to the utmost, the Tories damaged and tortured the king, who was
sufficiently miserable with the prospects on the Continent and his
fast-failing health. The Commons now determined to impeach Portland and
Somers on the ground of their concern in the second Partition Treaty,
contrary to the constitutional usages of the country. To procure
fresh matter against Somers and Orford, the pirate, Captain Kidd, was
brought from Newgate, where he was now lying, and examined at the bar
of the House; but nothing was got thereby. In the case of Portland
and Montague there were additional charges in reference to the grants
and dilapidations of the royal revenue for which they were said to be
answerable.

At this juncture the men of Kent manifested their old public spirit by
sending in a petition, praying the House to endeavour to rise above
their party squabbles, and to combine for the furtherance of the
public business. The whole community were beginning to grow disgusted
with the dissensions, which had evidently more of party rancour than
patriotism at their bottom. This petition had been got up and signed
by grand jurors, magistrates, and freeholders of the county, assembled
at Maidstone, and confided to Sir Thomas Hales, one of their members.
But Sir Thomas, on looking over it, was so much alarmed that he handed
it to the other member, Mr. Meredith. Meredith, in his turn, was so
impressed with the hazardous nature of the petition that, on presenting
it, he informed the House that some of the supporters of it, five
gentlemen of fortune and distinction, were in the lobby, and ready to
attest their signatures. They were called in accordingly, and owned
their signatures, when they were ordered to withdraw, and the petition
was read. It concluded by saying, "that the experience of all ages made
it manifest that no nation can be great or happy without union. We hope
that no pretence whatever shall be able to create a misunderstanding
amongst ourselves, or the least distrust of His Most Sacred Majesty,
whose great actions for this nation are writ in the hearts of his
subjects, and can never, without the blackest ingratitude, be forgot.
We most humbly implore this honourable House to have regard to the
voice of the people, that our religion and safety may be effectually
provided for, that your addresses may be turned into Bills of Supply,
and that His Most Sacred Majesty, whose propitious and unblemished
reign over us we pray God long to continue, may be able powerfully to
assist his allies before it is too late."

[Illustration: CAPTAIN KIDD BEFORE THE BAR OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
(_See p._ 524.)]

In proportion to the excellence of the advice was the indignation with
which it was received by the angry Commons. When men are conscious
that they are acting from private motives of no very respectable kind
under the mask of patriotism, the discovery that they are seen through
invariably exasperates them. Accordingly, the House was furious at
this very seasonable petition. Some of the members went out to the
petitioners, and called upon them to make a proper submission to the
affronted House; but they strongly refused, maintaining that they had
only done their duty, whereupon the House voted that the petition was
scandalous, insolent, seditious, and tending to the destruction of
the Constitution; and they ordered the Sergeant-at-Arms to take the
petitioners into custody. But the stout men of Kent were not secured
without a vigorous resistance. They were then sent to the Gatehouse
prison; but their treatment only damaged the Commons, for the public
were greatly of the same opinion. Similar petitions were soon preparing
in different quarters, and these gentlemen were much visited in their
confinement, which continued till the prorogation. It was, moreover,
much questioned whether the Commons had not greatly outstripped their
real authority, and infringed the statute of the 13th of Charles II.,
which guarantees the right of petition.

The Tory party in the Commons then returned to their prosecutions
of the late Whig Ministers. But the day of strange things seemed to
have arrived. One day Harley, the Speaker of the Commons, received a
packet from the hands of a poor woman as he entered the House. Such
an incident could not take place now, the Commons having protected
themselves from such irregular missives by making it necessary that all
petitions should have the names of the places, as well as the persons
whence they came, clearly stated, and be confided to the care of a
member in good time for him to note its character and contents. This,
however, turned out to be no petition, but a command. "The enclosed
memorial," it was stated in a letter accompanying, "you are charged
with in behalf of many thousands of the good people of England. There
is neither Popish, Jacobite, seditious, Court, or party, interest
concerned in it, but honesty and truth. You are commanded by two
hundred thousand Englishmen to deliver it to the House of Commons,
and to inform them that it is no banter, but serious truth, and a
serious regard to it is expected. Nothing but justice and their duty is
required; and it is required by them who have both a right to require,
and power to compel it--namely, the people of England. We could have
come to the House strong enough to oblige you to hear us, but we have
avoided any tumults, not desiring to embroil, but to serve, our native
country. If you refuse to communicate it to them, you will find cause
in a short time to repent it."

This strange memorial, which is known to have been written by Defoe,
was signed "Legion," and charged the House with unwarrantable practices
under fifteen heads. A new claim of right was arranged under seven
heads. Amongst the reprehensible proceedings of the Commons were
stated to be, the voting of the Partition Treaty fatal to Europe,
because it gave too much of the Spanish dominions to France, and not
concerning themselves to prevent them from taking possession of them
all. Deserting of the Dutch when the French were almost at their
doors, and till it was almost too late to help them, it declared to be
unjust to our treaties, unkind to our confederates, dishonourable to
the English nation, and negligent of the safety of both our neighbours
and ourselves. Addressing the king to displace his friends on base
surmises, before the legal trial or any article proven, was pronounced
illegal, contrary to the course of law, and putting execution before
judgment. It also declared the delaying of proceedings on impeachments
to blast the reputations of the accused without proving the charges,
to be illegal, oppressive, destructive of the liberties of Englishmen,
and a reproach to Parliaments. In the same strain it criticised the
attacks on the king's person, especially those of that "impudent rascal
John Howe," who had said openly that his Majesty had made a "felonious
treaty," insinuating that the Partition Treaty was a combination to rob
the king of Spain, when it was quite as just as to blow up one man's
house to save that of his neighbour. The Commons were admonished to
mend their ways, as shown to them in the memorial, on pain of incurring
the resentment of an injured nation; and the document concluded
thus, "for Englishmen are no more to be slaves to Parliament than to
kings--our name is Legion, and we are many."

No sooner was this paper read than the blustering Commons were filled
with consternation. They summoned all the members of the House by the
Sergeant-at-Arms; anticipations of sedition and tumult were expressed,
and an address to his Majesty was drawn up in haste, calling on him
to take measures for the public peace. Howe, one of the noisiest
men in the House, and accustomed to say very bold things, and other
Tory members, declared their lives in danger; others got away into
the country, believing that "Legion" was on the point of attacking
the Parliament. A Committee was appointed to sit permanently in the
Speaker's chamber, to take every means for averting a catastrophe, with
power to call before them all persons necessary for throwing light on
the danger, and to examine papers. At length, however, as "Legion" did
not appear, and all remained quiet, the House began to recover its
senses; it began at the same time to dawn upon their apprehensions that
they had been hoaxed by some clever wag. This wag, as we have said, was
none other than the inimitable author of "Robinson Crusoe," one of the
shrewdest political writers of the time.

The Lords now demanded that the trial of Somers and the other noblemen
should proceed without any further delay, but the Commons proposed that
it should be conducted before a Committee of both Houses. This they
did to bar the way of the trial, for they appeared rather to desire to
destroy the characters of the accused than to proceed to extremities.
They were aware that the accused nobles had a majority in their favour
in their own House, and that to impeach them there was to fail. They,
therefore, passed an unjustifiable address to the King, praying him to
dismiss the five peers from his Council, even before the impeachments
were heard. For the same reasons the Lords refused to admit the Commons
to a share in the trial, because in their House there was a majority
the other way. They replied, therefore, that such Committees were
contrary to custom in cases of impeachment for misdemeanour; that the
only exception was that in the case of the Earl of Danby and the five
Popish lords, and that the fate of it was sufficient warning to avoid
such a precedent, for the Committee could not proceed for altercations,
and the affair could only be got rid of by dissolving Parliament. The
Commons still argued for it, the Lords persisted in their refusal, and
at this moment the dispute was interrupted by the king calling on both
Houses to attend to the ratification of the new Succession Bill.

After this the contest regarding the mode of trial of the impeached
nobles was renewed with unabated acrimony. In one of the conferences
on the subject Lord Haversham declared his opinion that the Commons
themselves really believed the accused lords innocent; "for there are,"
he said, "various other lords implicated in the very same business,
and yet the Commons make no charge against them, but leave them at
the head of affairs, near the King's person, to do any mischief they
are inclined to, and impeach others, when they are all alike guilty,
and concerned in the same facts." This was a hard hit, for it was the
simple truth, and the delegates of the Commons, as they could not deny
it, could only affect to take violent offence at it. There was fresh
correspondence, but the Lords cut the matter short by deciding that
there should be no Committee of both Houses for regulating the trials
of the impeached nobles. The Commons, however, on the 14th of June sent
up their charges against the Earl of Halifax, declining to proceed
against Portland, as they said, out of respect to his Majesty.

The Lords now gave notice that they would proceed with the trials of
the accused nobles, beginning with that of Lord Somers first, as the
Commons had proposed, and called on the Commons to make good their
charge. On the other hand, the Commons, still insisting on their right
to have a voice in regulating the trials, made an order that no member
of their House should appear at the "pretended" trial of the Lord
Somers. Notwithstanding, the Lords gave notice that they would proceed
on the 17th of June to the trial of Somers, in Westminster Hall. The
Commons refused to attend, declaring that they were the only judges,
and that the evidence was not yet prepared. This produced a violent
debate in the Lords, where the Tory Ministers supported their party
in the Commons; but the order for the trial was carried, followed by
strong protests against it. On the day of the trial the Lords sent a
message to the Commons to inform them that they were going to the Hall,
and the Commons not appearing there, the Lords again returned to their
own House, and settled the question to be put; and again returning to
Westminster Hall, the question was then put:--"That John Lord Somers
be acquitted of the articles of impeachment exhibited by the House of
Commons, and all things therein contained; and that the impeachment be
dismissed." This was carried by a majority of thirty-five. A similar
course was taken with regard to the other accused.

It had been a miserable Session to the king. His health continued
to fail, and, amid his endeavours to conceal the decay of his
constitution, that his Allies might not be discouraged, he had found
his favourite Minister violently attacked, himself by no means spared,
and the Session almost wholly wasted in party feud. It had, however,
passed the Succession Bill, and now, to his agreeable surprise,
voted him unexpectedly liberal supplies, and sanctioned his forming
alliances against France. He now lost no time in appointing a regency;
and gave the command of the ten thousand troops, sent to Holland, to
Marlborough--an appointment, however despicable the man, the very best
he could have made in a military point of view. At the commencement
of July he sailed for Holland, accompanied by the Earls of Carlisle,
Romney, Albemarle, General Overkirk, and others, and landed on the
3rd of the month. The Scottish troops voted had arrived in Holland
before him, and the ten thousand men from England and Ireland were
just arriving, so that William appeared again amongst his countrymen
at the head of a respectable army of his new subjects. When he
presented himself, however, before the States-General the day after
his arrival, his appearance was such as to create great alarm in
all that saw him. In his energies they put the almost sole trust of
effectual resistance to France, and he was clearly fast sinking. He
was wasted, pale, and haggard. The last Session of Parliament, and the
fierce dissensions which had been carried on between the factions of
Whig and Tory, neither of which looked to anything but the indulgence
of their own malice, had done more to wear him out than a dozen
campaigns. He might well declare that that had been the most miserable
year of his existence. What strength he had left, however, he devoted
unshrinkingly to the grand object of his existence, the war for the
balance of power. He expressed his great joy to be once more amongst
his faithful countrymen; and, in truth, he must have felt it like a
cordial, for around him in England he saw nothing but unprincipled
strife of parties. William told the States that he had hoped, after
the peace of Ryswick, to have been able to pass his remaining days
in repose, but that the changes which had taken place in Europe were
such as no man could see the end of. He was still resolved, he said,
notwithstanding this, to pursue the great object of the peace of Europe
with unremitting zeal, whether it was to be achieved by negotiation or
war; and he assured them of the active support of his English subjects.
The States, in their reply, took care to express how much they depended
on the courage and power of the English, and to compliment them on the
splendid fame for valour which they had acquired in the late struggle.

William then set out to survey the defences of the frontiers, and the
state of the garrisons; and having visited Bergen-op-Zoom, Sluys,
and other places, and taken such measures as appeared necessary, he
returned to the Hague, where the news met him that Louis had recalled
his Ambassador, D'Avaux, who left a memorial in a very insolent tone,
asserting that his royal master was convinced that no good could come
of the negotiations, but still declaring that it depended on themselves
whether there should be peace or war. This event by no means surprised
William, for both he and Marlborough had felt from the first that there
was no sincerity in the professions of D'Avaux, and that they were
meant only to gain time. The treaty between England, Holland, and the
Emperor was, therefore, urged forward, and was signed on the 7th of
September, being styled "The Second Grand Alliance." By this treaty it
was contracted that the three Allies should mutually exert themselves
to procure satisfaction for the Emperor for the Spanish succession, and
security for the peace and trade of the Allies. Two months were yet to
be allowed for obtaining the objects by negotiation. If this failed,
war was to be made to recover the Spanish Flanders, the kingdoms of
Sicily, Naples, and the other Spanish territories in Italy; moreover,
the States and England might seize and keep for themselves whatever
they could of the colonial possessions of Spain. No peace was to be
made by any one of the Allies until they had obtained security for the
absolute separation of France and Spain, and that France should not
hold the Spanish Indies. All kings, princes, and States were invited
to enter the alliance, and tempting offers of advantages were made
to induce them to do so. William had already secured the interest of
Denmark, and the promises of Sweden; but the young King of Sweden,
Charles XII., was too busily pursuing the war with Russia and Poland
to lend any real service to this cause. At the very moment that the
Allies were canvassing for confederates, this "Madman of the North," as
he was called, gave the Czar Peter a most terrible overthrow at Narva
on the 30th of November, 1700, killing thirty thousand of his men.
Holstein and the Palatinate came into the treaty, and the news from
Italy soon induced the German petty princes to profess their adhesion,
especially the Electors of Bavaria and Cologne, who had received
subsidies from France, and raised troops, with which they would have
declared for Louis had not the victories of Prince Eugene swayed their
mercenary minds the other way.

Several months before the signing of the treaty at the Hague, Eugene,
at the head of the Emperor's troops in Italy, had opened the war. He
had entered Italy at Vicenza, and passed the Adige near Carpi, where,
being opposed by Catinat and the Duke of Savoy, he defeated them
with considerable slaughter, and forced them to retire into Mantuan
territory. Catinat and the French had excited the hatred of the
peasantry by their insolence and oppressions, and they flew to arms
and assisted Eugene, who was very popular with them, by harassing the
outposts of the French, cutting off their foragers, and obstructing
their supplies. Marshal Villeroi being sent to their aid, Catinat
retired in disgust. Villeroi marched towards Chiari, and attacked
Eugene in his camp, but was repulsed with the loss of five thousand
men. By the end of the campaign the Prince had reduced all the Mantuan
territory except Mantua itself and Goito, which he blockaded. He
reduced all the places on the Oglio, and continued in the field all
the winter, displaying a genius for war which greatly alarmed the
king of France. He despatched fresh reinforcements to Piedmont under
Marshal Vendôme, but he found the Duke of Savoy now cold and backward
in assisting him. The duke had got all that he could look for from
France; his second daughter was married to the new king of Spain, and,
satisfied with that, he was by no means ambitious of French domination
in his own territories.

On the other hand, France endeavoured to distract Austria by sowing
insurrection in Hungary, and Louis's emissaries were busy all over
Europe. He managed to make an alliance with Portugal, though the king
himself was attached to the House of Austria, but was a weak prince,
and was betrayed by his Ministers, who were corrupted by France.
Meanwhile the English and Dutch fleets sailed in strong force along
the coasts of Spain, to overawe the French, and another fleet was
despatched to the West Indies, to be ready in case of hostilities.
In Spain itself both people and nobles began to repent bitterly of
their subjection to France. They felt greatly annoyed at the insolence
of the king's French Ministers and attendants, who treated the
highest grandees with very little consideration. The French dress was
introduced into the Court, and French manners also, and a formal edict
was issued, putting the French nobles on the same level with the proud
hidalgoes of Spain. The finances of Spain were at the lowest ebb, the
spirit of the nation was thoroughly demoralised, and the condition of
France was very little better. These circumstances, being universally
known, encouraged the Allies in their projects. Yet the Emperor, for
whose cause the Alliance was ostensibly created, was almost equally
poor. He had engaged to bring 90,000 troops into the field--66,000
infantry and 24,000 horse; yet he was compelled to negotiate a loan
with Holland for 500,000 crowns. William, on his part, was to furnish
33,000 infantry and 7,000 horse; and the States-General 32,000 infantry
and 20,000 horse.

[Illustration: THE PRETENDER PROCLAIMED KING OF ENGLAND BY ORDER OF
LOUIS XIV. (_See p._ 529.)]

At this juncture James II. lay on his deathbed. Louis XIV. made three
successive visits to the dying king; and this strange monarch--who had
no feeling for human misery in the gross, who let loose his legions
to lay waste happy human homes in all the countries round him, to
ravage, massacre, and destroy the unoffending people by barbarities
which must have instructed the very devils in cruelty--shed tears
over the departure of this poor old man, whose life had been one vast
miserable blunder, and whose death was the best thing that could happen
to him. He promised the dying man that he would maintain the right of
his son to the English crown as he had maintained his, though he had
sworn at the treaty of Ryswick to do nothing to disturb the throne of
William; and (September 16, 1701), as soon as the breath was out of
James's body, he proclaimed the prince King of England by the title
of James III. This title was acknowledged by the King of Spain, the
Duke of Savoy, and the Pope. The moment William received the news of
Louis having proclaimed James's son King of England, he despatched a
messenger to inform the King of Sweden, who was guarantee of the peace
of Ryswick, of this flagrant breach of it. He ordered the Earl of
Manchester immediately to retire from Paris without taking leave, and
Poussin, the Secretary of Tallard, to quit London. Louis pretended that
his acknowledgment of the Prince of Wales was mere form; that he meant
no infraction of the treaty, and might justly complain of William's
declarations and preparations in favour of the Emperor. In fact, kings
never want pleas when they have a purpose, however unwarrantable it may
be. The people of England hastened to express their abhorrence of the
perfidy of the French king. Addresses of resentment were poured in from
London and from all parts of the kingdom, with declarations of a strong
determination to defend the king and his crown against all pretenders
or invaders.

William was impatient to be in London to make the necessary
arrangements for a new Ministry and a new Parliament, and also for the
war which was now inevitable. But he was detained by a severe illness;
in fact, he was fast succumbing to the weakness of his constitution,
and the ravages made on it by his stupendous exertions in the wars he
had been constantly engaged in, and, still more, by the eternal war
and harass of the unprincipled factions which raged around his island
throne. He arrived in England on the 4th of November, where he found
the two factions raging against each other with unabated rancour, and
the public in a ferment of indignation at the proclamation of the king
of the French acknowledging the Pretender, and still more at an edict
which Louis had published on the 16th of September, prohibiting all
trade with England, except in beer, cider, glass bottles, and wool,
and the wearing of any article of English manufacture after the 1st of
November next. William closeted himself with some of his Ministry who,
he still hoped, might be disposed to different measures; but finding
them still as determined as ever to pursue their former course and to
insist on their impeachments, he dissolved Parliament on the 4th of
November, and called a new one for the 31st of December.

The two parties went to the election for the new Parliament with the
same fierce bitterness with which they had fought through the last
Session. The bribery, corruption, and intimidation were of the most
open and shameless kind; but the Whigs, having the moneyed interest in
their favour, carried the day, having no doubt with them at the same
time the sentiment of the better part of the nation.

The new Ministry was immediately arranged. On the 24th of December
Charles Howard, the Earl of Carlisle, was appointed First Lord of the
Treasury, in place of Lord Godolphin. On the 4th of January, 1702,
Charles Montague, Earl of Manchester, who had been ambassador at
Paris, was made Secretary of State in place of Sir Charles Hedges; on
the 18th the Earl of Pembroke was transferred from the Presidency of
the Council, and made Lord High Admiral; and Charles Seymour, Duke
of Somerset, took the Presidency. Henry Boyle, afterwards Earl of
Carleton, was appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer; the Privy Seal,
having been in commission since the death of the Earl of Tankerville,
remained so. The Cabinet thus consisted of the personal friends of the
king, and the Whigs had strengthened their party, having carried the
elections in most of the counties and chief boroughs; yet they found
themselves so far from a commanding majority that they were immediately
defeated in the election of the Speaker. The king was desirous of
seeing Sir Thomas Littleton in the chair; but the Tories managed to
elect Harley; Henry St. John, afterwards Lord Bolingbroke, who was sent
up from Wootton Basset, seconding the motion for Harley. The speech,
which was drawn up by Somers according to Sunderland's advice, was then
read by William.

In this speech, which was greatly admired, the king said that he
trusted that they had met together with a full sense of the common
danger of Europe, and of that resentment of the conduct of the French
king which had been so strongly and universally expressed in the loyal
addresses of the people; that in setting up the pretended Prince of
Wales as King of England they had offered to him and to the nation the
highest indignity, and put in jeopardy the Protestant religion, and the
peace and security of the realm, and he was sure they would take every
means to secure the Crown in the Protestant line, and to extinguish
the hopes of all pretenders and their abettors; that the French king,
by placing his grandson on the throne of Spain, had put himself in a
condition to oppress the rest of Europe, and, under the pretence of
maintaining it as a separate monarchy, had yet made himself master of
the dominions of Spain, placed it entirely under his control, and so
surrounded his neighbours that, though the name of peace continued,
they were put to the expense and inconvenience of war; that this
endangered the whole of our trade, and even our peace and safety at
home, and deprived us of that position which we ought to maintain for
the preservation of the liberties of Europe; that to obviate these
calamities he had entered into several alliances according to the
encouragement given him by both Houses of Parliament, and was still
forming others. And he then said emphatically, "It is fit I should tell
you that the eyes of all Europe are upon this Parliament. All matters
are at a stand till your resolutions are known; therefore no time
ought to be lost. You have yet an opportunity, by God's blessing, to
secure to you and your posterity the quiet enjoyment of your religion
and liberties if you are not wanting to yourselves, but will exert the
ancient vigour of the English nation; but I tell you plainly my opinion
is, if you do not lay hold on this occasion, you have no reason to hope
for another."

He then recommended the Commons to take measures for the discharge of
the debt and for preserving public credit, by the sacred maxim that
they shall never be losers who trust to a Parliamentary security. In
asking them for the necessary aids he was only urging that they should
care for their safety and honour at a critical time. He reminded them
that in the late war he ordered yearly accounts of the expenditure to
be laid before them, and passed several Bills for securing a proper
examination of accounts. He was quite willing that any further measures
should be adopted for that end, so that it might appear whether
the debts had arisen from misapplication or mere deficiency of the
funds. He then finally touched on the sore point of the dissensions;
trusting that both Houses were determined to avoid all manner of
disputes and differences, and resolved to act with a general and hearty
concurrence for promoting the common cause which alone could insure a
happy Session. He should think it as great a blessing as could befall
England, if he could perceive them inclined to lay aside those unhappy
feuds which divided and weakened them, for that he himself was disposed
to make all his subjects easy as to even the highest offences committed
against him. He conjured them to disappoint the hopes of their enemies,
and let there be no other distinction amongst them for the future
but of those who were for the Protestant religion and the present
establishment, and those who were for a Popish prince and a French
Government. For his part, he desired to be the common father of his
people, and if they desired to see England placed at the head of the
Protestant interest and hold the balance of Europe, they had only to
improve the present opportunity.

The effect of this speech was wonderful. It flew through the nation,
which was already worked up into a war-fever, with the rapidity of
lightning, and was everywhere received with enthusiasm. The zealous
supporters of the principles of the Revolution had it printed in
ornamental style, in English, Dutch, and French, and it was soon
translated into other languages and disseminated all over Europe. It
was the announcement of a determined war against the grasping ambition
of France, and the eyes of the whole world were truly fixed on England,
which volunteered to take the lead in this serious enterprise. As
for the supporters of William and the Protestant government, they
framed his speech and hung it in their houses as the last legacy of
the Protestant king to his people. The Lords immediately drew up a
zealous address, in which they echoed his resentment of the conduct of
the French king in acknowledging the pretended Prince of Wales, and
declared that they would not only support and defend him against the
pretended Prince of Wales and all other pretenders, but, should they
be deprived of his Majesty's protection, they would still defend the
crown of England, by virtue of the Acts of Parliament, against all but
the recognised successors. On the 5th of January the Commons presented
a similar address, and assured the king that they would enable him to
make good the alliances he had made and such as he should yet make
for the peace of Europe. The Lords, not to be behind the Commons,
presented a second and more explicit address, in which they not only
engaged to support the king in his alliances, but declared that Europe
could never be safe till the Emperor was restored to all his rights,
and the invaders of Spain should be expelled. And they, too, declared
their full approbation of the king's new alliances, and their full
determination to support him in them.

William, warned by the resentment of the last House of Commons at the
concealment of the Partition Treaties, now laid his present treaties at
once before the new Parliament. On the 6th of January Secretary Vernon
laid before both Houses copies of the treaty with the King of Denmark
and the States-General, the secret Articles attached to this treaty,
the treaty between the King of Sweden, the States-General, and William,
and the separate treaty between William and the States-General, signed
in the month of November. The Commons were as prompt in expressing
their approbation of them, and on the 9th of January they proposed,
by an address to his Majesty, to take care that an article should be
introduced into the several treaties of alliance, binding the Allies
never to make peace with France until reparation was made for the
indignity offered by the French king in declaring the pretended Prince
of Wales King of England. They also resolved that a Bill should be
brought in for the abjuration of the pretended Prince of Wales.

They then went into the question of the supplies, and voted unanimously
that £600,000 should be borrowed at six per cent. for the services of
the navy, and £50,000 for Guards and garrisons. They agreed to the
number of troops which the king had stipulated as his contingent in the
war, namely, 30,000 foot and 7,000 horse; and added 8,300 more English
soldiers to the 10,000 already sent to Holland, and voted 40,000
seamen. His Majesty's Allies were to be invited to embark a certain
proportion of troops on board his Majesty's ships of war. All the
king's contracts for subsidising troops belonging to foreign princes
were confirmed, and to defray the charges of these naval and military
forces they imposed taxes with an alacrity almost unparalleled. They
imposed four shillings in the pound on all lands and incomes, including
annuities, pensions, and stipends, and on all the professional profits
of lawyers, doctors, surgeons, teachers of separate congregations,
brokers, factors, etc. Then an additional tax of two and a half per
cent. was put on all stock-in-trade and money out at interest, and of
five shillings in the pound on all salaries, fees, and perquisites.
They laid on a poll-tax of four shillings per head, so completely had
this generation come to tolerate this hated form of imposition, which
formerly roused the people to open rebellion. Besides this, they taxed
the capital stock of all corporations and public companies which should
be transferred in sale to the amount of one per cent., and, finally,
they placed sixpence a bushel on malt, and a further duty on mum,
cider, and perry.

On the 15th of January they passed unanimously a Bill for the attainder
of the pretended Prince of Wales, and sent it up to the Lords, and
the Lords, exceeding them in zeal, added a clause attainting also the
ex-queen Mary of Modena as regent of the pretended Prince of Wales. The
Commons, however, objected to this amendment as calculated to sanction
a practice of attainting persons by added clauses instead of original
Bills, which they designated as a pernicious course, as not allowing
the full consideration due to so momentous a measure. They struck it
out, but the Lords demanded a conference, and pressed their amendment
on the ground that the Commons had themselves adopted that practice
so long ago as the 3rd of Henry VIII. The Commons were not likely to
pay much regard to the practice of either House in the reign of that
lawless monarch, and returned the Bill to the Lords without the clause,
and the Lords, on further reflection, passed it.

This was followed in the Lords by the Bill so strongly recommended by
Sunderland for the abjuration of the pretended Prince of Wales, in
which was a clause introduced into the oath, acknowledging William
rightful and lawful sovereign. There was a violent debate on the
point whether this oath should be voluntary or compulsory. The Earl
of Nottingham strongly opposed its being compulsory, and he was
supported by other lords of the Tory party. They contended that the
Government was first settled with another oath, which had the value of
an original contract, and any other oath was unnecessary; that this
oath could do nothing more than that oath had done. All inclined to
keep that oath had kept it, and all inclined to break it had broken
it, and these would break this or any other oath. Whilst they were
in debate, Sir Charles Hedges introduced a clause which made it
obligatory on all persons enjoying appointments in Church and State,
and with an obligation to maintain the Government in King, Lords, and
Commons, and to maintain the Church of England, with toleration to the
Dissenters. After a sharp debate it passed the Commons, but only by a
majority of one. In this Bill it was made equally penal to compass or
imagine the death of the Princess of Denmark as it was the death of
the king. The Bill was strenuously opposed in the Lords, but it was
carried, and Nottingham and nineteen other peers entered their protest
against it. The Quakers had endeavoured to get themselves exempted
from the operation of the Bill, but in vain. This zeal of the Whigs in
Parliament for imposing fresh oaths did them no good, but tended to
revive the unpopularity which had so lately driven them from office.
Whilst these subjects were before Parliament, the Lords made a fresh
attempt, by a Bill of their own, to procure the attainder of Mary of
Modena, but the Commons let the Bill lie.

In Scotland the clamour against the Government for its treatment of
the Darien scheme still continued. The Earl of Nottingham, therefore,
moved that the Scottish Parliament should be dissolved, and an attempt
be made to unite the two kingdoms, by which all causes of complaint
would be hereafter removed, since all parties would have a like
interest in the trade of the nation. The king was greatly bent on this
design, but he had met with an accident which prevented him from going
to the House of Lords to propose it. But he sent a message both to the
Lords and to the Commons, expressing his earnest desire that a union
should take place, and that Commissioners were already appointed in
Scotland to treat with such Commissioners as should be appointed in
England for that end. He represented that he was fully satisfied that
nothing could more contribute to the security and happiness of the two
kingdoms than such a union, and that he should esteem it a peculiar
felicity if, during his reign, so great an event should take place.

[Illustration: VIEW IN THE HAGUE: CHAMBERS OF THE STATES-GENERAL IN THE
BINNENHOF.]

But the accident alluded to was of a more serious nature than was
suspected, and, falling on a weak and exhausted frame, was about to
bring his reign to an abrupt close. In riding towards Hampton Court
on the 20th of February, on his accustomed Saturday's excursion to
hunt there, his horse fell with him and fractured his collar-bone,
besides doing him other serious injury. He was carried to Hampton
Court, where the bone was set; and though the surgeon remarked that
his pulse was feverish, he was deemed in too feeble a condition to
admit of benefit by bleeding. Contrary, moreover, to the advice of his
medical attendants, he would insist on returning that same evening to
Kensington, and was, accordingly, conveyed thither in a carriage; but
on arriving, it was found that the collar-bone, by the jolting of the
carriage, was again displaced. It was again set, and the king slept
well the night through after it. For several days no bad consequences
appeared; but on the 1st of March great pain and weakness were felt
in his knee. Ronjat, his surgeon, a Frenchman, who had re-set the
bone, had contended that he ought to have been bled; Bidloo, his Dutch
physician, had opposed it as injurious in his debilitated state. He
was now attended by Sir Thomas Millington, Sir Richard Blackmore, Sir
Theodore Colledon, Dr. Bidloo, and other eminent physicians. Again
he appeared to rally, and on the 4th of March he took several turns
in the gallery at Kensington; but, sitting down on a couch, he fell
asleep, and awoke shivering and in high fever. On this there was a
hurry to pass several Bills through the Lords that they might receive
his signature, in case of fatal termination of his illness. These were
the Malt-tax Bill, the Bill for the Prince of Wales's Attainder, and
one in favour of the Quakers, making their affirmation valid instead of
an oath. These being prepared, and the king not being able to use his
hand, the royal signature was affixed by a stamp made for the purpose.

This took place on the 7th of March, and was not a moment too soon,
for the king's symptoms rapidly gained strength, and he died the
next day. The Earl of Albemarle, his great favourite, arrived from
Holland on the day preceding his death, and it was thought the good
news which he brought would cheer him, but William appeared to receive
his information with indifference, and merely replied, "_Je tire
vers ma fin_" ("I approach my end"). The news of the king's danger
filled the antechamber with such a throng of courtiers as is generally
witnessed at the expected moment of a monarch's decease; not prompted
by affection, but on the watch to seize the earliest moment to make
their court to his successor. Physicians, statesmen, and emissaries
of interested parties were there mingled, eagerly listening for the
reports of his state, and ready to fly with the news of his decease.
Amongst these were the messengers of the Princess Anne and of Lady
Marlborough, who, with her husband, now absent with the army in
Holland, had scarcely less to expect from the event. Yet even Lady
Marlborough, assuredly by no means sensitive where her ambition was
concerned, expresses her disgust at the scene. "When the king came to
die, I felt nothing of the satisfaction which I once thought I should
have had on this occasion; and my Lord and Lady Jersey's writing and
sending perpetually to give an account [to the Princess Anne] as his
breath grew shorter and shorter, filled me with horror." These Jerseys,
who were thus courting the favour of the heiress to the Crown by these
incessant messages of the advancing death of the king, had been amongst
those on whom he had heaped favours and benefits pre-eminently. Such
is the end of princes. The closing scene is thus detailed by Bishop
Burnet, who to the last showed himself one of the steadiest and most
grateful of his courtiers:--"The king's strength and pulse were still
sinking as the difficulty of breathing increased, so that no hope
was left. The Archbishop of Canterbury and I went to him on Saturday
morning, and did not stir from him till he died. The Archbishop prayed
on Saturday some time with him, but he was then so weak that he could
scarce speak, but gave him his hand, as a sign that he firmly believed
the truth of the Christian religion, and said he intended to receive
the Sacrament. His reason and all his senses were entire to the last
minute. About five in the morning he desired the Sacrament, and went
through the Office with great appearance of seriousness, but could
not express himself; when this was done, he called for the Earl of
Albemarle, and gave him a charge to take care of his papers. He thanked
M. Auverquerque for his long and faithful services. He took leave of
the Duke of Ormond, and called for the Earl of Portland, but before he
came his voice quite failed; so he took him by the hand and carried it
to his heart with great tenderness. He was often looking up to heaven
in many short ejaculations. Between seven and eight o'clock the rattle
began; the commendatory prayer was said to him, and as it ended he
died, on Sunday, the 8th of March, in the fifty-second year of his age,
having reigned thirteen years and a few days."

It was found on opening the body that he had had an adhesion of the
lungs, which being torn from the side to which it had adhered by the
fall from his horse, was the cause of his death. His head and heart
were sound, but he had scarcely any blood in his body.

In person William was of a spare frame, middle stature, and delicate
constitution, being subject to an asthma and cough from his childhood,
supposed to be the consequences of small-pox. He had an aquiline nose,
clear bright eyes, a finely-developed forehead, a grave aspect, and was
very taciturn, except amongst his immediate friends, who were almost
all his own countrymen. His reserved and repellent manner gave great
offence to his English courtiers and nobles, and the lavish wealth
which he heaped on his favourite Dutchmen heightened this feeling.
He never liked Englishmen, and they never liked him. For his neglect
to attach himself to the English there is, however, much excuse. The
men about his Court, and the very party who brought him in, were a
most selfish, rapacious, and unprincipled set. It is difficult to
point to a truly noble and genuinely patriotic man amongst them.
Perhaps the most unexceptionable were the Earl of Devonshire and Lord
Somers; but the greater part of them were men whose chief object was
self-aggrandisement; and the party fight which the two factions kept up
around the Throne made it anything but an enviable seat. The peculation
and jobbery in every department of the State were wholesale and
unblushing, and the greater part of those who were ostensibly serving
him and receiving his pay, were secretly engaged to his enemies, spies
upon all his actions and intentions, and traitors, in a perpetual
transmission of his projects to the Court of his deadly foes. The
forbearance which he constantly manifested towards those despicable men
was something admirable and almost superhuman. Though he was well aware
of their treason, he still employed and endeavoured to conciliate them.
With a cold exterior, William was far from destitute of affection. This
he showed in the confidence with which he entrusted the government to
his wife in his absence, and in his passionate grief for her death. It
was also manifested in his warm and unshaken attachment to the friends
who had shared his fortunes, who spoke his tongue, who knew his whole
mind and nature, and who served him with a fidelity, amid an age of
treachery and a Court of deep corruption, than which there is nothing
more beautiful in history.

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote A: That is, during their good behaviour.]

CHAPTER XVI.

THE REIGN OF ANNE.

Accession of the Queen--Meeting of the Houses of
Parliament--Scotland and Ireland--Power of Marlborough--The
Revenue--Tory Colour of the Ministry--The Coronation--Declaration
of War--Marlborough goes to the Seat of War--General Aspect of
Affairs--Marlborough's Difficulties--His Campaign--Operations by
Sea--Meeting of Parliament--Supply--Marlborough's Dukedom--The
Occasional Conformity Bill--Dismissal of Rochester--Opening of the
Campaign of 1703--Fall of Bonn--Failure to take Antwerp--Savoy
and Portugal join the Allies--Visit of the Archduke Charles to
England--The Storm--Jacobite Conspiracy--Ashby versus White--Queen
Anne's Bounty--Marlborough's Great Plans--The States-General
hoodwinked--His March--Dismay of the French--Junction with
Eugene--Advance on the Danube--Assault of the Schellenberg--The
Prince of Baden's Conceit--Approach of Tallard--The Eve of
Blenheim--The Battle--Conclusion of the Campaign--Marlborough's
Diplomacy--Capture of Gibraltar--Battle of Malaga--Proceedings
in Parliament--The Campaign of 1705--Attempt to recover
Gibraltar--Peterborough's Exploits in Spain--Proposal to Invite
the Electress Sophia to England--Consequent Legislation--Battle
of Ramillies--Eugene relieves Turin--Disasters in Spain--Meeting
of the Commissioners for the Union--Condition of the
Treaty--Opposition in Scotland--Riots in Edinburgh--Conduct of the
Opposition--The Measure carried by Bribery--Its Discussion in the
English Parliament--The Royal Assent given.

When Anne succeeded to the throne she was in her thirty-eighth year.
She was fat, indolent, and good-natured. She had long been under the
complete management of the imperious Lady Marlborough, and through her
Marlborough expected to be the real ruler of the country. Through them
the queen had imbibed a deep-rooted hatred of the Whigs, whom they had
taught her to regard as the partisans of King William, and the real
authors of all the indignities and mortifications which she had endured
during his reign. The Tories therefore calculated confidently on
recovering full power under her, and had resolved to place Marlborough
at the head of the army. The queen, on her part, had a great leaning
towards the Tories, as the enemies of the Whigs and the friends of the
Church, to which she was strongly attached. The endeavours which had
been made in her father's time to make a Catholic of her, and in her
brother-in-law's time to level the distinctions between Church and
Dissent, had only rooted more deeply her predilection for the Church;
nor did the fact of her husband being a Lutheran, and maintaining
his Lutheran chapel and minister in the palace, at all diminish this
feeling.

No sooner was the king dead than Lord Jersey and other courtiers who
had been eagerly watching the shortening of his breath hastened to
bring the news to Anne, who, with Lady Marlborough, sat on that Sunday
morning waiting for the message which should announce her queen; and
Bishop Burnet, among others, conveyed the sad tidings to her. Though
it was Sunday, both Houses of Parliament met, for they were empowered
still to sit by an Act passed in William's reign, and the death of
William was announced to the Commons by Mr. Secretary Vernon. There
was much speechifying, Mr. Granville saying, "We have lost a great
king, and got a most gracious queen." Both Houses then proceeded
to the palace with addresses of felicitation, and were graciously
received. The Privy Council also waited on the queen, who assured them
of her determination to maintain the laws, liberties, and religion
of the country, to secure the succession in the Protestant line, and
the Church and State as by law established. The Privy Council having
taken the oaths, she caused a proclamation to be issued, signifying
her pleasure that all persons in office should continue to hold their
respective posts till further orders.

On the 11th of March she went in state to the House of Lords.
She was accompanied in her coach by her consort, the Prince of
Denmark, and Marlborough carried the Sword of State before her. Lady
Marlborough occupied the place close behind the queen. Anne had a
remarkably rich and touching voice, and it had been cultivated, at
the suggestion of her uncle, Charles II., for elocutionary delivery,
as especially important for a monarch. She concluded her speech with
these words:--"As I know my own heart to be entirely English, I can
sincerely assure you that there is not anything that you can expect
or desire from me which I shall not be ready to do for the happiness
and prosperity of England, and you shall always find me a strict and
religious observer of my word." Not only did she receive the thanks of
both Houses for her gracious assurances, but congratulatory addresses
from the City of London, from the bishop and clergy of London, from
the various bodies of Dissenters, and the different counties and chief
towns of the kingdom.

Some difficulty had been expected in Scotland from the Jacobites, but
all passed over easily, the Jacobites thinking that as Anne had no
issue, the Stuarts would be sure to enjoy "their ain again" on her
death. The Secretaries of State for Scotland, and such of the Scottish
Privy Councillors who were in London, waited on her, read to her their
"Claim of Rights," and tendered her the Coronation Oath with many
professions of loyalty; and this ceremony being completed, the Earl
of Marchmont, the Chancellor of Scotland, was dispatched to represent
the queen in the General Assembly of the Kirk which was about to meet.
In Ireland the natives were so rigorously ruled that they excited no
alarm.

The queen announced the coronation for the 23rd of April, and took up
her abode at Windsor, as St. James's was completely hung with black,
and was too gloomy for living in. She also took immediate possession of
William's favourite residence at Kensington, which George of Denmark
had always coveted. William's remains were unceremoniously transferred
to "the Prince's Chamber" at Westminster, and the Dutch colony, as the
attendants of William were called, were routed out, to their great
indignation. Before a week had expired Anne accomplished what she had
so often attempted in vain--she conferred the Order of the Garter on
Marlborough. He was appointed Captain-General of the English army, both
at home and abroad, and, soon after, Master of the Ordnance. The Prince
of Denmark was made Lord High Admiral, with the title of Generalissimo
of the Forces; but as he was both ignorant of and indisposed to the
management of both naval and military affairs, Marlborough was the real
Commander-in-Chief of the forces.

The Commons voted her Majesty the same revenue as King William had
enjoyed, and pledged themselves to the repudiation of the pretended
Prince of Wales, and to the defence of her Majesty's person and the
Protestant succession. On the 30th of March the queen went to the House
of Lords and ratified the Act for the revenue and for her household,
and generously relinquished one hundred thousand pounds of the income
granted. At the same time she passed a Bill continuing the Commission
for examination of the public accounts; but these necessary inquiries
were always defeated by the principal persons who were deep in the
corruption. The villainy was almost universal, and, therefore, was
carefully screened from efficient search.

In naming her Ministers the Tory bias of the queen at once showed
itself. Godolphin, the family ally of the Marlboroughs, was appointed
Lord Treasurer; Nottingham was made principal Secretary of State,
and was allowed to name Sir Charles Hedges as the other Secretary
in place of Mr. Vernon; Rochester, the queen's uncle, was made
Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland; the Duke of Somerset, Lord President of
the Council, was dismissed to make way for the Earl of Pembroke, who
could scarcely rank as a Tory, but disclaimed being a Whig: the Earl
of Bradford was made Treasurer of the Household through the influence
of Rochester; the Marquis of Normanby received the Privy Seal--a
reward for his happy flattery; and the Earl of Jersey retained his
post of Chamberlain for his assiduous transmission of the news of
William's "shortening breath." Sir Nathaniel Wright remained Lord
Keeper; and Sharp, Archbishop of York, became the queen's adviser in
all ecclesiastical matters. The only Whigs who retained office were
the Duke of Devonshire, Lord High Steward, and Mr. Boyle, Chancellor
of the Exchequer; and, on Shrewsbury's refusing the post of Master of
the Horse, the Duke of Somerset, though displaced as Lord President,
was induced to accept that office. The Prince of Denmark appointed a
council for himself, into which he introduced none but Tories. At the
head of this board, which was deemed wholly illegal, but which was not
called in question by Parliament from respect to the queen, he placed
Sir George Rooke, a most decided antagonist to the Whigs, and made him
President of the Commission for Managing the Fleet.

[Illustration: BISHOP BURNET ANNOUNCING HER ACCESSION TO ANNE. (_See
p._ 535.)]

On the 23rd of April the coronation took place, being St. George's Day.
The queen was so corpulent and so afflicted with gout that she could
not stand more than a few minutes at a time, and was obliged to be
removed from one situation to another during this fatiguing ceremony in
an open chair. Tenison, the Archbishop of Canterbury, officiated, and
the whole ceremony and banquet did not end till eight in the evening.
Everybody, say the newspapers, was satisfied, even the thieves, who
managed to carry off the whole of the plate used at the banquet in
Westminster Hall, together with a rich booty of table-linen and pewter.

During March and April there was a continual arrival of
ambassadors-extraordinary to congratulate her Majesty on her accession.
Prussia, Denmark, Sweden, most of the German States, and particularly
those of Zell and Hanover, sent their envoys; and there was a strong
discussion in the Council on the necessity of declaring war against
France. Marlborough and his faction were, of course, for war, in
which he hoped to win both glory and affluence; but Rochester and the
majority of the Council, including the Dukes of Somerset and Devon,
and the Earl of Pembroke, strongly opposed it, on the ground that the
quarrel really concerned the Continental States and not us, and that
it was sufficient on our part to act as auxiliaries, and not as the
principal. The queen, however, being determined by the Marlborough
influence to declare war, laid her intentions before Parliament, which
supported her, and accordingly war was proclaimed on the 4th of May,
the Emperor and the States-General issuing their proclamations at the
same time. Louis was charged with having seized on the greater part of
the Spanish dominions, with the design of destroying the liberties of
Europe, and with grossly insulting the queen by declaring the pretended
Prince of Wales the real king of Great Britain and Ireland. When
these charges were read over by De Torcy to Louis, he broke out into
keen reproaches against the Queen of England, and vowed that he would
"make Messieurs the Dutch repent of their presumption." He delayed his
counter-declaration till the 3rd of July. The Commons presented an
address to her Majesty, praying her Majesty to unite with the Emperor
and the States to prohibit all intercourse with France and Spain, and
at the same time to promote commerce in other directions; and the Lords
addressed her, praying her to sanction the fitting out of privateers to
make reprisals on the enemies' ships, which interrupted our trade, and
also to grant charters to all persons who should seize on any of the
French and Spanish territories in the Indies. The queen thanked them
for their zeal, and prorogued Parliament on the 25th of May.

We may now turn our attention to the progress of the war. When the
States-General received the news of the death of William, they were
struck with the utmost consternation. They appeared to be absolutely
paralysed with terror and dismay. There was much weeping, and amid
vows and embraces they passed a resolution to defend their country
with their lives. The arrival of the address of the Queen of England
to her Privy Council roused their spirits, and this was followed by
a letter from the Earl of Marlborough, addressed to the Pensionary
Fagel, assuring the States of the queen's determination to continue the
alliance and assistance against the common enemy. The queen herself
addressed to the States a letter confirming these assurances, and
despatched it by Mr. Stanhope, who was again appointed Ambassador at
the Hague. Marlborough himself, who left England on the 12th of May
to assume his foreign command, arriving directly afterwards in the
character not only of Commander-in-Chief of the British forces, with a
salary of ten thousand pounds a year, but of Ambassador Extraordinary
and Plenipotentiary, assured the States that the Queen of England was
resolved to maintain all the alliances, and resist the encroachments of
the French in the same spirit as the late king.

War had been going on some time on the Rhine before Marlborough arrived
there, and still longer before he was prepared to join in it. In
Germany many negotiations had been going on to induce the petty States
to act as contingents of the Empire, or to keep them from joining the
French against their own nation. The House of Brunswick had engaged
to bring to the allied army ten thousand men; Prussia had engaged to
co-operate, and Saxe-Gotha and Wolfenbüttel to abandon the French. The
Electors of Bavaria and Cologne, who had, most traitorously to the
Empire, aided France in her attempts to enslave Germany, pretended now
to stand neutral, but the neutrality was hollow; and the position of
affairs in Poland effectually prevented the northern Powers of Germany
from sending assistance to the Allies in Flanders. Charles XII., still
pursuing the Elector of Saxony as King of Poland, threatened to invade
Saxony. He marched first to Warsaw, and ordered the Cardinal-Primate
to summon a Diet to choose another king, and Augustus, the Saxon King,
posted himself at Cracow. This state of affairs overawed Prussia, and
beyond the Alps the condition of Savoy and Milan, where the French
were strong, tended to prevent a full concentration of force in the
Netherlands against France.

The position of the contending forces on the Rhine and in the
Netherlands was this:--The Prince of Saarbrück, at the head of
twenty-five thousand men, Dutch, Prussians, and Badenese, was besieging
Kaiserwerth. Athlone and Cohorn were covering the siege of Kaiserwerth,
Athlone (Ginkell) lying between the Rhine and the Meuse, Cohorn with
ten thousand at the mouth of the Scheldt. On the other hand, Tallard,
with thirteen thousand men on the opposite side of the Rhine, annoyed
the besiegers of Kaiserwerth with his artillery, and managed to throw
into the town fresh troops, ammunition, and supplies. Count Delamotte
and the Spanish Marquis of Bedmar covered the western frontier of the
Spanish Netherlands, and the Prince of Baden was posted on the Upper
Rhine.

Whilst in this position Cohorn marched into the Netherlands, destroyed
the French lines between the forts of Donat and Isabella, and levied
contributions on the chatellany of Bruges; but Bedmar and Delamotte
advancing, he cut the dykes, inundated the country, and retired under
the walls of Sluys. Meanwhile the Duke of Burgundy, taking the command
of the army of Boufflers at Zanten, near Cleves, formed a design to
surprise Nimeguen in conjunction with Tallard, who suddenly quitted
his post near Kaiserwerth, and joined Burgundy. Nimeguen was without
a garrison, and ill supplied with artillery, and must have fallen an
easy prey, had not Athlone, perceiving the object of the enemy, by a
masterly march got the start of them, and posted himself under the
walls of the town before the arrival of the French guards.

Marlborough all this time was undergoing his first experience of the
difficulties of acting at the head of a miscellaneous body of allies,
and with the caution of Dutch burgomasters. He had blamed William
severely for his slow movements, and now he was himself hampered by
the same obstructions. It was the end of June before he could bring
into order the necessary arrangements for taking the field. Nor could
he have effected this so soon had not the near surprise of Nimeguen
alarmed the Dutch for their frontiers, and quickened their movements.
The fall of Kaiserwerth was another circumstance in his favour. He
collected the forces which had been engaged there, marched the English
troops up from Breda, and in the beginning of July found himself at
Nimeguen at the head of sixty thousand men. Even then he did not
find himself clear of difficulties. His bold plans were checked by
the presence of two field deputies which the Dutch always sent along
with their generals, and who would not permit him to undertake any
movement until they had informed the States-General of it and received
their sanction. Thus it was not the general in the field, but the
States-General at a distance, who really directed the evolutions
of the war; and the only wonder is, that a general in such absurd
leading-strings could effect anything at all. Besides this standing
nuisance, Marlborough found Athlone, the Prince of Saarbrück, and the
other chief generals, all contending for equal authority with him,
and refusing to submit to his commands; and when the States-General
freed him, by a positive order, from this difficulty, the Hanoverians
refused to march without an order from Bothmar, their Ambassador at the
Hague. Instead of sending to Bothmar, Marlborough summoned him to the
camp, as the proper place for him if he was to direct the movements of
the Hanoverian troops, and got rid of this obstacle only to find the
Prussians raising the same difficulties.

It was not till the 7th of July that he crossed the Waal and encamped
at Druckenburg, a little south of Nimeguen. It was the 16th when
he crossed the Meuse and posted himself at Overhasselt, with the
French forces in front at the distance of two leagues and a half,
entrenched between Goch and Gedap. Here, in a letter to Godolphin, he
complained that still the fears of the Dutch hampered his movements.
He then recrossed the river at Grave, and reached Gravenbroek, where
he was joined by the British train of artillery from Holland. Thus
prepared, he advanced on the French; on the 2nd of August was at Petit
Brugel in their front; but they retired before him, leaving Spanish
Guelderland in his power. He determined to bring the French to an
engagement, but was restrained by the fears of the Dutch deputies;
but, fortunately for him, the French generals had their fears too, and
the Duke of Burgundy, finding Marlborough pressing on him in spite
of his obstructions, resigned his command rather than risk a defeat,
and returned to Versailles, leaving the command to Boufflers. The
deputies of the States, encouraged by these symptoms, recommended
Marlborough to clear the French from Spanish Guelderland, where the
places which they still held on the Meuse interrupted the commerce of
that river. Though the Dutch were merely looking at their own interests
in this design, Marlborough was glad to attack the enemy anywhere. He
despatched General Schultz to reduce the town and castle of Werk, and
in the beginning of September laid siege to Venloo, which, on the 28th
of the month, surrendered. Fort St. Michael, at Venloo, was stormed by
the impetuous Lord Cutts, unrivalled at that work, at the head of the
English volunteers, amongst whom the young Earl of Huntingdon greatly
distinguished himself. He next invested and reduced Ruremond and the
fort of Stevensweert; and Boufflers, confounded by the rapid successes
of Marlborough, retiring on Liége, the English general followed
him, reduced the place, stormed the citadel, and seized in it three
hundred thousand florins in gold, and a million florins in bills on
the substantial merchants of the city, who promptly paid the money.
This terminated the campaign. Marlborough had wonderfully raised his
reputation, won the entire confidence of the States, and, having seen
the French retire behind their lines, he distributed his troops into
winter quarters, and projected his journey homewards.

The operations at sea had not been so decisive as those of Marlborough
on land. On the 12th of May Sir John Munden, sent out to intercept the
French fleet convoying the Viceroy of Mexico from Corunna to the West
Indies, chased fourteen sail of French ships into Corunna, but, judging
the fortifications too strong to attack them there, put out to sea, and
soon afterwards returned home for provisions, to the great indignation
of the people. Munden was tried by court-martial and acquitted, but
the Prince of Denmark dismissed him from the service notwithstanding.
King William having planned the reduction of Cadiz, the queen was now
advised to put the project into execution. Sir George Rooke was sent
out with a squadron of fifty ships of the line, besides frigates,
fire-ships, and smaller vessels, and carrying the Duke of Ormond with a
land force of fourteen thousand men. The fleet sailed from St. Helens
near the end of June, and anchored on the 12th of August within two
leagues of Cadiz. The governor of fort St. Catherine was summoned to
surrender, but he refused; and on the 15th the Duke of Ormond landed
under a fire from the batteries, and soon took the forts of St.
Catherine and St. Mary. He issued a proclamation declaring that they
came, not to make war on the Spaniards, but to free Spain from the yoke
of France, and that the people and their property should be protected.
But the English soldiers paid no regard to the proclamation, but got
drunk in the wine stores and committed great excesses. Some of the
general officers were found as eager as the soldiers for pillaging; and
the inhabitants, resenting their sufferings, held aloof. To complete
the mischief, the land and sea commanders, as has been too commonly the
case, fell to quarrelling. Ormond wanted to storm the Isla de Leon;
Rooke deemed it too hazardous. An attempt was made to batter Matagorda
fort, but failed, and the troops were re-embarked.

As the fleet was returning from its inglorious enterprise, it was met
by Captain Hardy, who informed the commander that the galleons from the
West Indies had entered Vigo Bay under convoy of a French squadron. A
council of war was immediately summoned, and it was resolved to tack
about and proceed to Vigo. They appeared before the place on the 11th
of October. The passage into the harbour they found strongly defended
by forts and batteries on both sides, and the passage closed by a
strong boom of iron chains, topmasts, and cables. The admirals shifted
their flags into smaller vessels, for neither first nor second rates
could enter. Five-and-twenty English and Dutch ships of the line of
lesser size, with their frigates, fire-ships, and ketches, now prepared
to make the attempt to force the boom and burn the fleet, and the Duke
of Ormond prepared the way by landing two thousand eight hundred men
six miles from Vigo, and marching on the harbour, where he attacked and
carried a strong fort and a platform of forty pieces of cannon at its
mouth. The moment the British colours were seen flying on the fort the
fleet put itself in motion. Admiral Hopson led the way in the _Torbay_,
and, running with all sail set, dashed against the boom and burst
through it. He was followed by the whole squadron under a tremendous
fire from the ships and batteries; but both ships and batteries were
soon silenced, the batteries by the soldiers on land, the ships by the
fleet. They captured eight ships of war and six galleons; the rest
were set fire to by themselves or the French, to prevent them from
falling into the hands of the English. The Spaniards had lost no time
in removing as much of the plate and merchandise as they could; but the
Allies seized on seven millions of pieces of eight in plate and other
goods, and the Spaniards are supposed to have saved twice as much. Sir
George Rooke left Sir Cloudesley Shovel, who had just arrived, to bring
home the prizes, and sailed for England with the rest of the fleet and
troops in triumph, complaining that Cadiz, too, might have been taken
had Ormond done his duty, and Ormond retorting the blame upon him.

[Illustration: LORD GODOLPHIN. (_After the Portrait by Sir Godfrey
Kneller._)]

Had this terminated the usual campaign it might have been considered,
to a certain extent, a success; but an expedition, sent out to cruise
in the waters of the West Indies, under the brave old Benbow, had a
worse fate. He came up with a French fleet under Du Casse, steering
along the shore of Santa Martha, and though he had ten sail of the
line, and the enemy only the same, he found himself deserted by most
of his captains, under the plea that the enemy was too strong. Benbow,
upbraiding their cowardice, attacked the whole fleet with only two
vessels. The battle lasted, off and on, from the 19th of August to
the 24th, some others of the ships occasionally joining him. On the
last day his leg was shattered by a chain-shot, and he was wounded in
the face and in the arm; yet he caused himself to be placed on the
quarter-deck in a cradle, and continued issuing his orders to the
last. Seeing it in vain to contend longer, he returned to Jamaica,
and ordered a court-martial to be held. The reason assigned for the
disobedience of the officers was the rough conduct of Benbow, who was
one of the old boisterous school of seamen, but brave and honest. The
disgrace thus inflicted on his command, combining with his shattered
condition, soon also brought him to his grave.

Marlborough returned to England in November, and was received with
great applause. Notwithstanding some sharp criticisms on his campaign,
the public saw clearly enough that he was a far superior general to
William, and augured great things from his future command. The queen
met her new Parliament on the 20th of October, which turned out to be
so completely Tory as to carry all before it in that direction. The
Government had no occasion to make much exertion to obtain that result;
it was enough that the queen's decided leaning to the Tories was known.
Addresses of congratulation on the brilliant success of the British
arms under Marlborough were presented by both Houses, which, they said,
"retrieved" the ancient honour and glory of the English nation. This
word "retrieved" roused all the spleen of the Whigs, who knew that it
was meant as a censure on them and King William, who, they contended,
had maintained the honour of the English nation by joining the great
confederacy by which the security of the queen's throne at that moment
was established, and by training our soldiers to their ancient pitch of
discipline and valour. They moved that the word "maintained" should be
substituted for "retrieved," but it was carried against them, amid the
most unmeasured abuse of the memory of the late king, Marlborough being
cried to the skies at his expense.

The Tories next showed their strength in calling in question various
elections of Whig members, and carried the inquiry against them with
the most open and impudent partiality.

The Commons then voted the supplies, and in practice justified the
Whigs, by being as lavish for the war as they had been. They voted
forty thousand seamen, and the same number of land forces, to act along
with the Allies. They granted eight hundred and thirty-three thousand
eight hundred and twenty-six pounds for their maintenance; three
hundred and fifty thousand pounds for Guards and garrisons; seventy
thousand nine hundred and seventy-three pounds for ordnance; and
fifty-one thousand eight hundred and forty-three pounds for subsidies
to the Allies--altogether, one million three hundred and six thousand
six hundred and forty-two pounds for the war alone, independent of
the usual national expenses, and these soon required an increase. The
queen demanded of the Commons a further provision for her husband,
the Prince of Denmark, in case of her decease. Howe moved that one
hundred thousand pounds a year should be settled on the prince in case
he should be the survivor. No objection was offered to the amount, but
strenuous opposition was given to a clause in the Bill exempting the
prince from the provision in the Act of Settlement, which prevented any
foreigner, even though naturalised, from holding any employments under
the Crown; but the Court was bent on carrying this, and did so.

Having secured her husband, Anne then sent a message to the Commons to
inform them that she had created the Earl of Marlborough a duke for
his eminent services, and praying them to settle five thousand pounds
a year on him to enable him to maintain his new dignity. This was so
glaring a case of favouritism that the Commons, with all their loyalty,
expressed their decided disapprobation. The outcry was so great that
the Marlboroughs declined what they saw no means of getting--the
grant--and the queen intimated that fact to the House; but she
immediately offered her favourites two thousand pounds a year out of
her privy purse, which, with affected magnanimity, they also declined,
hoping yet to obtain, at some more favourable crisis, the Parliamentary
grant; and, after that really happened, they then claimed the queen's
offer too. But the opposition of the Tories, whom Marlborough had been
serving with all his influence in Parliament, alienated him from that
party, and he went over to the Whigs.

What galled Marlborough as much as anything was that he had been in the
House of Lords strongly supporting one of the most illiberal attempts
of the Tories to destroy the effect of the Act of Toleration. The
extreme Tories regarded the Church as entitled to confer all favours,
and they were determined to give it a power by which all corporations
and elections should be thrown into the hands of the Government. For
this purpose Mr. Bromley, Mr. Annesley, and Mr. St. John, who, as a
man of notoriously unorthodox principles, ought at least to have been
tolerant, brought in the Occasional Conformity Bill. They complained
that Dissenters and other disaffected persons took the oaths, and often
went again to the Dissenting meetings; that this was a gross piece of
hypocrisy, and left the Church exposed to much danger from them. They
proposed, therefore, to insist that all who had taken the Sacrament
and test for offices of trust, or for the magistracy of corporations,
and afterwards went to any meeting of the Dissenters, should forfeit
their employments, pay a fine of one hundred pounds, and five pounds
for every day that they continued to hold their office after having
been at a Dissenters' meeting, as well as be disabled from holding any
other employment till after a year's conformity. The Bill was carried
in the Tory Commons by an overwhelming majority; but it was as strongly
opposed in the Lords, where the Whigs were not disposed to pull down
the greatest trophy of their legislation. The Bishops generally voted
against the Bill, and Burnet was extremely active against it. Probably
few of them were actuated by a sense of the monstrosity of the Test and
Corporation Acts, which compelled all to take the Sacrament, whether
opposed to it in that form or not, and thus shut out the honest and
pious, and let in those who had neither honesty nor religion. But they
saw that it would again let loose all the detestable race of spies
and informers from which the country was now happily free, and would,
in reality, only injure instead of benefiting the Church, by making
her an object of general hatred. The Tories themselves affected great
veneration for the Toleration Act, whilst they would thus have stifled
all toleration.

The queen and the whole Court exerted themselves to force the Bill
through the Upper House, as they had done that for the prince's salary.
Marlborough argued vehemently for it, but the Whig lords hit upon a way
of defeating it by seeming to comply. They agreed to its passing on
condition that all who took the test, and then went to conventicles,
should simply be deprived of their employments and be fined twenty
pounds. They knew that the Commons would not allow the slightest
interference of the Lords with the money part of the Bill, and this
proved to be the case. The Lords searched their rolls, and showed
numerous cases in which they had altered fines, but the Commons refused
to admit any such power. A conference in the Painted Chamber was held,
but with a like result, and after long contention the Bill was, happily
for the nation, dropped.

A Bill was next brought in to allow another year of grace to all who
had not taken the oath abjuring the pretended Prince of Wales. The
Tories contended that the Jacobite party had now come over to the
queen; but it was shown on the other side that this was but a specious
deception; that the agents of St. Germains were in as full activity as
ever; were constantly coming and going; and whilst they appeared to
favour the queen, it was only to get as strong a party as possible into
the House, eventually to abolish both the abjuration and the Protestant
Succession Bill: that to this end they now advised all persons to take
the Abjuration Bill, and to be able to get into Parliament or power.
The Bill was carried in the Commons; but the Lords again tacked two
clauses to it, one declaring it high treason to endeavour to alter
the succession as settled in the Princess Sophia, and the other to
impose the oath on the Irish. These were not money clauses; whoever
refused them must appear disinclined to the Protestant succession. The
Commons were completely entrapped, and, to the surprise of everybody,
they accepted the clauses, and thus the Bill, which was originally
favourable to the Jacobites, became much more rigid against them. The
queen sent the Lord Keeper, on the 27th of February, 1703, to prorogue
Parliament.

Lord Rochester was now entirely removed from the queen's councils. His
near relationship to the queen, and his being accounted the champion of
the Church, made him presume in the Council, where he was blustering
and overbearing. He was disappointed in not being placed at the head
of the Treasury, and quarrelled continually with Lord Godolphin. He
had now voted against Marlborough's grant of five thousand pounds a
year, and thus incurred the mortal hatred of the all-powerful Lady
Marlborough. It was clear that Rochester must give way, or the Council
must be rent by continual feuds. He was opposed to the war--another
cause of hostility from the Marlboroughs--to whom it was money, fame,
and everything. He received such intimations from the queen as caused
him to retire into the country in disgust. As he refused all summonses
to attend the Council, her Majesty ordered him to proceed to his
government in Ireland, where his presence was much needed. He replied
with great insolence that he would not go to Ireland, and the post of
Lord-Lieutenant was conferred on the Duke of Ormond. Still declining
to attend the Council, the queen ordered that he should no more be
summoned, and thus terminated Anne's connection with her relatives by
the mother's side. The elder brother of Rochester, Lord Clarendon, had
been excluded the Court for refusing the abjuration of the pretended
Prince of Wales, and his son, Lord Cornbury, little better than an
idiot, was sent to govern the North American colonies, that he might be
out of the way, a system of colonial management by which these colonies
were at length entirely estranged. Rochester survived this disgrace but
a very few weeks.

It was proposed between the Emperor of Germany and the Allies that the
campaign of 1703 should be opened with effect, and by measures which
should go far to paralyse France. The Archduke Charles, the Emperor's
second son, was to declare himself King of Spain, to propose for
the hand of the Infanta of Portugal, and to proceed to that country
to prosecute his claims on Spain by the assistance of the English
and Dutch fleets. Meanwhile the Emperor promised to take the field
with such a force as to drive the Elector of Bavaria, the active and
able ally of France, out of his dominions. But Louis, as usual, was
too rapid in his movements for the slow Germans. He ordered Marshal
Villars, who lay with thirty thousand men at Strasburg, to pass the
Rhine, and advance into Bavaria to the support of the Elector. The
war was thus skilfully diverted by Louis from the Rhine into the very
neighbourhood of the Emperor. On the other hand, Marlborough, who
was the soul of the war on the Lower Rhine, had been detained by his
exertions to counteract the efforts of Louis XIV. in another quarter.
Insurrections had broken out amongst Louis's Protestant subjects in
the Cevennes, who had been barbarously oppressed. Marlborough, who
cared more for the paralysing of Louis than for the interests of
Protestantism, strongly proposed in the Council that assistance should
be sent to the mountaineers of the Cevennes. This was fighting Louis
with his own weapons, who was exciting insurrection in Hungary and
Bohemia amongst the subjects of the Emperor. Nottingham and others of
the Council as strongly opposed this measure, on the principle of not
exciting subjects against their legitimate sovereign; but Marlborough
prevailed. Arms and ammunition were forwarded to the Cevennes, and
direct communications were ordered to be opened with the insurgents,
which would have compelled Louis to detain a large force for the
subjugation of these rebels, which otherwise would have gone to the
Rhine; but these aids never reached the unfortunate mountaineers.

Marlborough reached the Hague on the 17th of March, much earlier still
than William used to arrive there. Nor had the war paused for his
arrival. He had stimulated the Prussians to be in action much earlier.
In February they had reduced the fortress of the Rhineberg, and then
proceeded to blockade Guelders, the last place in the power of France
on the frontiers of Spanish Guelderland. It was fortunate, for the
unity of command, that Athlone and Saarbrück, Marlborough's jealous
rivals, were both dead; so that now Marlborough had only the Dutch camp
deputies as clogs on his movements, but they were quite sufficient
often to neutralise his most spirited projects. He found Villeroi and
Boufflers posted on the frontiers of the Spanish Netherlands, and his
design was to attack and drive them out of Flanders and Brabant. But
here, in the very commencement, he was obliged by the States-General
to give up his own views to theirs. They desired an immediate attack
on Bonn, persuading themselves that the Elector of Cologne would
rather capitulate than risk the ruin of the town. Marlborough went
reluctantly but not inertly into this plan, foreseeing that it would
waste much precious time, and prevent him from falling on Villeroi and
Boufflers at the right moment, when the attempt to support the Elector
of Bavaria had drawn many of their forces away into Germany. He was the
more chagrined the more he saw of the want of energy in the Allies.
He proceeded to Nimeguen to arrange with Cohorn the plan of the siege
of Bonn. He visited and inspected the garrisons at Venloo, Ruremond,
Maestricht, and the other places which he took in the previous campaign
on the Meuse. Arriving at Cologne, he found preparations made for a
siege, but in a most negligent manner; and Cohorn especially excited
his disgust by proposing to defer the siege of this place till the end
of summer. But Marlborough knew too well the necessity of preventing
an attack from that quarter; ordered the place to be invested, and
then marched on Bonn with forty battalions, sixty squadrons, and a
hundred pieces of artillery. The trenches were opened on the 3rd of
May, and it was assaulted from three different quarters at once; on one
side by the forces under the hereditary prince of Hesse-Cassel, on
another by those under Cohorn, and on the third by Lieutenant-General
Fagel. The city capitulated on the 15th, and the commander, the Marquis
D'Allegré, and his garrison were conducted to Luxemburg. During the
siege continually arrived the news of the successes of the Elector of
Bavaria, and the failures of the Imperial troops; and Villeroi and
Boufflers advanced, took Tongres, and menaced the Allies from that
quarter with forty thousand men.

[Illustration: H.R.H. THE PRINCESS ANNE OF DENMARK, AFTERWARDS QUEEN OF
ENGLAND.

FROM THE PAINTING BY W. WISSING AND J. VANDERVAART.]

No sooner was Bonn reduced than Marlborough determined to prosecute his
original plan of driving the French from Flanders. He now dispatched
Cohorn, Spaar, and Opdam to commence operations at Bergen-op-Zoom,
whilst he addressed himself to dislodge Villeroi and Boufflers from
Tongres. In order to divide the energies of the French, a part
of his plan was that the powerful English and Dutch fleet was to
keep the coast of that country in alarm from Calais to Dieppe, and
actually to make a descent on the land near the latter port. But the
French resolved to cut off the division of Opdam from the main army.
Boufflers, with twenty thousand men, surprised him, and the Dutch
falling into confusion, Opdam believed the day lost, and fled to Breda.

[Illustration: VIEW IN LISBON: THE PRÁÇA DE DOM PEDRO.]

Opdam's miscarriage had greatly deranged Marlborough's plan of attack
on Antwerp. Spaar and Cohorn were already near Antwerp with their
united forces, but the check received by Opdam's division delayed the
simultaneous advance. Villeroi lay in the path of Marlborough near St.
Job, and declared that he would wait for him; but the moment the duke
advanced to Hoogstraat to give him battle, he set fire to his camp and
retreated within his lines with all haste. Boufflers had joined Bedmar
in Antwerp, and Marlborough advanced and laid siege to Huy, which
surrendered on the 27th of August. He now called a council of war to
decide the plan of attack on Antwerp, and was well supported by the
Danish, Hanoverian, and Hessian generals, but again found opposition
from the Dutch officers and the deputies of the States, who deemed the
attempt too dangerous. They recommended him to attempt the reduction of
Limburg, by which they would acquire a whole province; and despairing
now of accomplishing his great object, the reduction of Antwerp, this
campaign--having the Dutch officers, the Dutch deputies, and the Dutch
Louvestein faction all working against him--he turned aside to Limburg,
and reduced it in a couple of days. This acquisition put into the power
of the Allies the whole country from Cologne, including Liége; and
Guelders being afterwards stormed by the Prussian General Lottum, the
whole of Spanish Guelderland remained theirs.

Elsewhere the war went in favour of the French, and the affairs of
the Emperor never appeared more gloomy; instead of recovering Spain,
Louis was fast depriving him of his Empire. He was supporting against
him the rebellious Hungarians, who were in arms under Prince Ragotski,
and who had plenty of oppressions to complain of. Suddenly, however,
some gleams of light shot across his gloom. The Duke of Savoy, who
seldom remained true to one side long, grew alarmed at the French
being masters of the Milanese, and was induced to open communications
with the Emperor. But the secret negotiations were speedily discovered
by the French, and the Duke of Vendôme received orders to disarm the
Savoyards who were in his army; to demand that the troops of Savoy
should be reduced to the scale of 1696, and that four principal
fortresses should be put into the hands of France. But the Duke of
Savoy was by no means inclined to submit to these demands. He treated
them as insults to an ally, and ordered the arrest of the French
ambassador and several officers of his nation. Louis, astonished at
the decision of these proceedings, wrote the duke a most menacing
letter, informing him that as neither honour, interest, religion, nor
the oaths of alliance were regarded by him, he should leave the Duke
of Vendôme to deal with him, who would give him four-and-twenty hours
to determine his course in. This imperious letter only hastened the
duke's alienation. He concluded the treaty with Vienna, and answered
Louis's letter by a defiance. He acknowledged the Archduke Charles
King of Spain, and despatched envoys to Holland and England. Queen
Anne immediately sent an ambassador to Turin; and a body of Imperial
horse under Visconti, followed by fifteen thousand foot under Count
Staremberg, issued from the Modenese, and in the midst of the most
stormy weather and through miry roads marched to join the Duke of Savoy
at Canelli. The French harassed them fearfully on the march, but could
not prevent their junction, by which Piedmont was placed in security.

In the same way, Portugal had declared for the Emperor. The fear of
having Louis in possession of Spain had operated with Portugal, as
similar causes had operated with Savoy. The King of Portugal agreed to
give his daughter to the Archduke Charles, on condition that the right
to the throne of Spain was transferred to him. England and Holland were
to support the Portuguese and the new King of Spain from the sea.
The treaty was concluded at Lisbon, and a fleet of forty-nine sail,
under Sir Cloudesley Shovel, lay off Lisbon to protect the coasts from
the French. Charles was to be conveyed to Lisbon by a powerful fleet,
having on board twelve thousand soldiers, who were, on landing, to be
joined by twenty-eight thousand Portuguese. The allied fleets had done
nothing of importance during this summer.

The Archduke Charles, having assumed the title of King of Spain, set
out from Vienna about the middle of September, and reached Düsseldorf
on the 16th of October, where he was met by the Elector Palatine and
the Duke of Marlborough, who was commissioned by Queen Anne to offer
his congratulations. Marlborough accompanied Charles of Austria to
the Hague, where they were both received with high honours by the
States-General. Marlborough then hastened over to England to be
ready to receive the royal guest on his way to Portugal. On the 26th
of December the new King of Spain arrived at Spithead in the Dutch
squadron sent to convey him. The queen dispatched the Dukes of Somerset
and Marlborough to conduct him to Windsor, and Prince George met him on
the way at Petworth, the seat of the Duke of Somerset, and conducted
him to Windsor on the 29th. The king was entertained in great state
for three days at Windsor, during which time he was politic enough to
ingratiate himself with the Duchess of Marlborough. When the duchess
presented the bason and napkin after supper to the queen for her to
wash her hands, the king gallantly took the napkin and held it himself,
and on returning it to the queen's great favourite, he presented her
with a superb diamond ring.

After three days the king returned to Portsmouth, and on the 4th of
January, 1704, he embarked on board the fleet commanded by Sir George
Rooke, for Portugal, accompanied by a body of land forces under the
Duke of Schomberg. The voyage was, however, a most stormy one, and when
the fleet had nearly reached Cape Finisterre, it was compelled to put
back to Spithead, where it remained till the middle of February. His
next attempt was more successful, and he landed in Lisbon amid much
popular demonstration, though the Court itself was sunk in sorrow by
the death of the Infanta, whom he went to marry.

Before the arrival of Charles in England, it had been visited by one
of the most terrible storms on record. The tempest began on the 27th
of November, 1703, attended by such thunder and lightning as had never
been experienced by living man. The Thames overflowed its banks, and
was several feet deep in Westminster Hall. The houses in London seemed
shaken from their foundations, and many actually fell, burying the
inhabitants in their ruins. The loss in London alone was estimated
at a million sterling, and the storm raged with equal fury in other
places. Bristol was a great sufferer; but the greatest destruction fell
on the fleet. Thirteen ships of war were lost, and fifteen hundred
seamen, including Rear-Admiral Beaumont, who foundered in the Downs.
Many of the oldest trees in the parks were torn up, and the lead on the
churches was rolled up in scrolls. This unparalleled storm raged most
fiercely along the southern and western counties, being scarcely felt
in the northern ones. The Bishop of Bath and Wells, with his wife, was
killed in the episcopal palace by the fall of a stack of chimneys.

The queen opened Parliament on the 9th of November. She spoke of
the new treaties with the Duke of Savoy and the King of Portugal as
subjects of congratulation; and on the 12th the Lords presented an
address to the queen, expressing their satisfaction at her having
entered into these treaties, and even displayed a zeal beyond them. The
Commons on their part voted fifty-eight thousand soldiers and forty
thousand sailors as the standard of the army and navy, and they granted
the requisite supplies with the utmost readiness. No sooner was this
patriotic demonstration made, than the Commons again introduced the
Occasional Conformity Bill, and carried it by a large majority, on
pretence that the Church was in danger; but the Lords attacked it with
greater animosity than ever, and threw it out.

At this moment the nation became alarmed with the rumour of a
conspiracy amongst the Jacobites in Scotland. When the queen, on
the 17th of December, went to the Lords to give her assent to the
Land Tax Bill, she informed them that she had made discoveries of a
seditious nature in Scotland, which, as soon as it could be done with
prudence, she assured them should be laid before them. The Lords, in
their loyalty, were not disposed to wait for these disclosures, but
appointed a Committee to inquire into the plot, and even went so far as
to take some of the parties implicated out of the hands of the queen's
messengers, to examine them themselves.

The year 1704 opened amid these inquiries. The Queen laid before the
House of Lords the papers concerning the Highland plot, with one
exception, which the Earl of Nottingham asserted could not yet be
made public without tending to prevent further discovery. This only
stimulated the Lords, who addressed the queen, praying that the whole
of the papers might be submitted to them. The queen replied that she
did not expect to be pressed in this manner, but she ordered the papers
in question to be delivered to them under seal. The Peers pursued the
inquiry with renewed vigour, and soon issued a report that it appeared
to them that there had been a dangerous conspiracy, instigated by Simon
Fraser, Lord Lovat, carried on for raising a rebellion in Scotland,
and invading that kingdom with French forces, in order to subvert her
Majesty's Government and bring in the pretended Prince of Wales, and
that they were of opinion that nothing had given so much encouragement
to this conspiracy as the Scots not coming into the Hanover succession
as fixed in England. They therefore besought the queen to procure the
settlement of the Crown of Scotland on the Princess Sophia, and when
that was done they would use all their influence for a union of the two
kingdoms.

Anne expressed her entire concurrence in these views, and the Lords
then presented another address in answer to the second address of the
Commons. They charged the Commons with manifesting a want of zeal for
the queen's safety, and with showing a strange reluctance that the
particulars of the plot should be brought to light, obstructing all
through, as much as in them lay, the necessary inquiry; and fresh fuel
was immediately furnished to the flame already blazing between the two
Houses. One Matthew Ashby, a freeman of Aylesbury, brought an action
against William White and others, the constables of Aylesbury, for
preventing him from exercising his franchise at the last election.
This was an unheard-of proceeding, all matters relating to elections
being from time immemorial referred to the House of Commons itself.
The circumstances of the case, however, furnished some reason for this
departure from the rule. It appeared that four constables made the
return, who were known to have bargained with a particular candidate,
and to have so managed that the election should be his. In appeals
to the Commons the party which happened to be in power had in a most
barefaced manner always decided in favour of the man of their own side.
Ashby, therefore, sought what he hoped would prove a more impartial
tribunal. He tried the cause at the assizes, and won it; but it was
then moved in the Queen's Bench to quash these proceedings as novel and
contrary to all custom. Three of the judges were opposed to hearing the
case, the matter belonging notoriously to the House of Commons; and
they argued that, if this practice were introduced, it would occasion
a world of suits, and make the office of returning members a very
dangerous one. The Lord Chief Justice Holt alone was in favour of it.
He contended that there was a great difference between the election of
a member and a right to vote. The decision of the election undoubtedly
belonged to the Commons, but the right to vote being founded upon a
forty-shilling freehold, upon burgage land, upon a prescription, or the
charter of a borough, was clearly establishable by a court of law. The
judges at length permitted the trial, but, being three against one,
the decision was for the constables. This aroused the indignation of
the whole Whig party, and the cause was removed by a writ of error to
the House of Lords. The Lords, after a full hearing, and taking the
opinions of the judges, confirmed the judgment given in favour of Ashby
at the assizes.

The Commons now took up the affair with great warmth. They passed
five resolutions--namely, that all matters relating to elections and
the right of examining and determining the qualifications of electors
belonged solely to them; that Ashby was guilty of a breach of their
privileges, and they denounced the utmost weight of their resentment
against all persons who should follow his example and bring any such
suit into a court of law, as well as against all counsel, attorneys, or
others who should assist in such suit. They ordered these resolutions
to be affixed to the gates of Westminster Hall. The Lords took instant
measures to rebut these charges. They appointed a committee to draw
up a statement of the case, and resolved upon its Report "that every
person being wilfully hindered from exercising his right of voting
might seek for justice and redress in common courts of law against
the officer by whom his vote had been refused; that any assertion to
the contrary was destructive of the property of the subject, against
the freedom of election, and manifestly tending to the encouragement
of bribery and corruption; and finally that the declaring Matthew
Ashby guilty of a breach of privilege of the House of Commons was an
unprecedented attempt upon the Judicature of Parliament in the House
of Lords, and an attempt to subject the law of England to the will and
votes of the Commons."

They ordered the Lord-Keeper to send copies of the case and their
votes to all the Sheriffs of England, to be by them communicated to
the boroughs in their respective counties. The House of Commons was
greatly enraged at this, but it had no power to prevent it, and it had
the mortification to see that the public feeling went entirely with the
Lords, who certainly were the defenders of the rights of the subject,
whilst the Commons, corruptly refusing a just redress to such appeals,
endeavoured to prevent the sufferers from obtaining it anywhere else.

One of the most striking acts of this reign was the grant of the
first-fruits and tenths of church livings to the poor clergy. The
tenths were about eleven thousand pounds a year, and the first-fruits
about five thousand pounds. These moneys had been collected by the
bishops since the Reformation and paid to the Crown. They had never,
says Burnet, "been applied to any good use, but were still obtained
by favourites for themselves and friends, and in King Charles's time
went chiefly amongst his women and children. It seemed strange that,
whilst the clergy had much credit at Court, they had never resented
this as sacrilege unless it were applied to some religious purpose,
and that during Archbishop Laud's favour with King Charles I., or at
the restoration of King Charles II., no endeavours had been used to
appropriate this to better uses; sacrilege was charged on other things
on very slight grounds, but this, which was more visible, was always
forgot." But the fund was too convenient a fund for favourites to
get grants upon. It is much to the credit of Burnet that he managed
to divert this misused fund from the greedy clutches of courtiers
and mistresses, to the amelioration of the condition of the unhappy
working clergy. He proposed the scheme first to William, who listened
to it readily, being assured by Burnet that nothing would tend to
draw the hearts of the clergy so much towards him, and put a stop to
the groundless clamour that he was the enemy of the clergy. Somers
and Halifax heartily concurred in the plan; but the avaricious old
Sunderland got a grant of it upon two dioceses for two thousand pounds
a year for two lives, which frustrated the aims of the reformers.
Burnet, however, succeeded better with Anne. He represented that there
were hundreds of cures that had not twenty pounds a year, and some
thousands that had not thirty pounds, and asked what could the clergy
be or do under such circumstances? Therefore, on the 7th of February,
1704, Sir Charles Hedges, the Secretary of State, announced to the
Commons that her Majesty had remitted the arrears of the tenths to the
poor clergy, and had resolved to grant in future the whole of the
first-fruits and tenths for the augmentation of small livings. The
Commons replied in an address, expressing their sense of her pious
care for the Church, and brought in a Bill to enable her to alienate
this branch of the revenue, and to create a corporation by charter,
to apply the money, according to the queen's intention, in increasing
the wretched stipends of the poorer clergy. There was an attempt made
to relieve the clergy altogether from the payment of first-fruits and
tenths, and to devote some other fund to the relief of the poor clergy;
but as Anne's intention was not to relieve the rich but to comfort the
poor, she would not listen to it. The Statute of Mortmain was also
relaxed by a provision of the Bill, so far as to allow individuals to
make augmentations to benefices by deed of gift or by bequest. The
Bishops were unanimous for the Bill, and addresses of thanks from all
the clergy of England were presented to Anne on the occasion of this
noble gift of what has been ever since known as Queen Anne's Bounty.
However, Anne was far from being so generous to Dissenters, or to any
other sect in the kingdom. On the contrary, she had just before allowed
the Parliament of Ireland to stop the poor sum of twelve hundred
pounds per annum, which had been paid by the late king to the indigent
Presbyterian ministers of Ulster, who had so manfully defended the
north of Ireland against James.

[Illustration: THE KING OF SPAIN AT WINDSOR: HIS GALLANTRY TO THE
DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH. (_See p._ 546.)]

On the 3rd of April the queen prorogued Parliament till the 4th
of July. The Convocation had during this time kept up its bitter
controversy, and had done nothing more except thank the queen for
the grant of the first-fruits and tenths, and the Commons for having
espoused their cause.

Marlborough had left London for the Hague on the 15th of January whilst
Parliament was sitting. He was promised fifty thousand British troops
under his own immediate command, and he was planning a campaign which
gave the first evidence of a real military genius being at the head
of the Allied forces, since these Dutch wars began. He saw that the
Elector of Bavaria, by his alliance with the French, was striking at
the very heart of the Empire, and that, if permitted to continue his
plans, he would soon, with his French allies, be in possession of
Vienna. Nothing could be more deplorable than the condition of Austria.
Besides the successes of the Elector of Bavaria, the insurgents of
Hungary were triumphant, and between the two the Empire was on the
verge of ruin. The Elector of Bavaria had possessed himself of all
the places on the Danube as far as Passau, and should he come to act
in concert with the Hungarians, Vienna would be lost. Prince Eugene
put himself into communication with Marlborough, and these two great
generals determined on striking a blow which should at once free
Austria from its dangers. This was no other than a bold march of a
powerful army to the Danube, and the destruction of the Elector of
Bavaria.

This was a design so far out of the mediocre range of Dutch campaigns
that it was determined not to let its real character become known
till it could be instantly put in execution, certain that the
States-General, terrified at so daring a scheme, would prohibit it at
once. To go securely to work, therefore, by the advice of Eugene, the
Emperor applied to the Queen of England to send an army to his rescue.
Marlborough supported the application with all his energy, and, having
procured the queen's consent, he left England on the 15th of January,
was in the Hague on the 19th, and put himself into secret communication
with the Grand Pensionary Heinsius. He fully approved of the scheme,
and promised to give it his most strenuous support. It was thought,
however, imprudent to confide the real extent of the plan to other
persons, not only because it was sure to alarm the States-General,
but because it had been all along observed that every proposal, as
soon as it became known to the Government or heads of the army, was
immediately treacherously conveyed to the French. The proposal made to
the States-General, therefore, was merely that the next campaign should
be made on the Moselle, as if the design were to penetrate into France
along that river.

The States-General, as was expected, appeared thunderstruck by even
the proposal of carrying the war to the Moselle, and it was only by
the zeal of Heinsius that they were brought to consent to it. That
accomplished, they were induced to grant a subsidy to the Prince of
Baden, and another to the Circle of Suabia, and to take into pay
four thousand Würtembergers instead of the same number of Dutch and
English despatched to Portugal. There was a promise of money given to
the Prince of Savoy, with an assurance of so vigorous a campaign on
this side of the Alps that the French should not be able to send many
troops against him. Similar assurances of co-operation were given to
the Elector Palatine and to the new King of Prussia. These matters
being arranged, Marlborough hastened back to England, and persuaded
the queen to remit a hundred thousand crowns to Suabia, and to make a
large remittance to the Prince of Baden out of the privy purse. He then
put himself on a good understanding with the now partly Whig Ministry,
himself as well as his indefatigable duchess coming out in Whig
colours. He then returned to the Netherlands in the beginning of April.
He found in his absence that the terms of his design, little of it as
was known, had been actively operating in the cautious Dutch mind,
and the States of Zealand and Friesland in particular were vehemently
opposed to so bold a measure as carrying the war to the Moselle.
Marlborough, who had brought with him to support him in command his
brother General Churchill, Lieutenant-General Lumley, the Earl of
Orkney, and other officers of distinction, told the States plainly
that he had the authority of his queen for taking such measures as he
thought best for the common cause, and that he was determined to march
with his forty thousand men to the Moselle. This struck with silence
the opposers of the measure: the States consented with a good grace to
the proposition, and gave him such powers as they never would have done
had they any idea to what an extent he meant to use them. Prince Eugene
alone, who was commanding the Allied army on the Upper Danube, was in
the secret. Leaving Overkirk with a strong force to guard the frontiers
of Holland, he commenced at once his march to Utrecht, where he spent a
few days with Albemarle, thence to Ruremond, and so to Maestricht, and
on the 8th of May advanced to Bedburg, in the Duchy of Juliers, which
had been appointed as the place of rendezvous. There he found General
Churchill with fifty-one battalions, and ninety-two squadrons of horse.

Being joined by various detachments of Prussians, Hessians,
Lüneburgers, and others, and also by eleven Dutch battalions,
Marlborough, on the 19th of May, commenced his great expedition into
the heart of Germany. On the 26th he was at Coblentz, and from the
grand old fortress of Ehrenbreitstein he watched the passage of his
army over the Moselle and the Rhine. He wrote to the States-General for
fresh reinforcements in order to secure his most important movement,
and marched along the banks of the Rhine to Broubach. There he also
wrote to the King of Prussia, praising the Prussian troops, and
entreating him to send him more of them. While he was at Mainz, he
halted a day to rest his troops, and there received the agreeable news
that the States were sending after him twenty squadrons, and eight
battalions of Danish auxiliaries; but at the same time he was mortified
to find that the Prince of Baden had managed so badly as to allow the
ten thousand troops forwarded by Tallard to join the Elector of Bavaria
without molestation, and had lost the most tempting opportunities,
whilst the Elector was marching through narrow defiles, of cutting off
his march and reducing him to extremities.

The French were filled with wonder at this march of Marlborough, far
out from the usual scene of the English operations, and could not for
some time realise the object of it. At one time they expected only an
attack on the Moselle, but that river and the Rhine being crossed,
they apprehended that his design was to raise the siege of Landau,
and this was confirmed by the advance of the Landgrave of Hesse to
Mannheim. But when he crossed the Neckar and advanced on Erpingen, and
was continually strengthened by fresh junctions of Prussians, Hessians,
and Palatines, they began to comprehend his real object. He waited at
Erpingen for the coming up of General Churchill with the artillery and
part of the infantry, and he employed the time in sending a despatch
to warn the Prince of Baden that Tallard and Villeroi were about to
unite their armies, pass the Rhine, and hasten to the support of the
Elector of Bavaria. He pressed on the prince the extreme importance of
preventing this passage of the French army. He told him that they must
not trouble themselves about any damage that Villeroi might do on the
left bank of the Rhine, if he could only be kept there, as in that case
he felt assured that six weeks would see the army of the Elector of
Bavaria annihilated, and the Empire saved.

Marlborough was anxious to keep the Prince of Baden engaged on the
Rhine, so that he might himself have the co-operation of the far abler
Eugene on the Danube. On the 9th of June he crossed the Neckar again,
marched to Mondelsheim, and on the 10th met for the first time Prince
Eugene, who was destined to be for ever connected with his name in
military glory. At Hippach Marlborough reviewed his cavalry in the
presence of Eugene, who expressed his utmost admiration at their
appearance and discipline. He was equally struck with the lively and
ardent expression of the countenances of the English soldiers, which
Marlborough handsomely assured him was caused by their pleasure in
seeing so renowned a commander. To the intense mortification of Eugene
and Marlborough, the Prince of Baden, whom they were anxious to detain
on the Rhine, quitted the post where his presence was so much required,
and came up and joined them. He was determined to be in the quarter
where the greatest share of reputation was to be won, and from his
princely rank he did not hesitate to claim the chief command.

This notion of their princely claims, combined with their mediocrity of
military talent, has always been the mischief of a campaign in alliance
with the small princes of Germany. The whole plan of Marlborough and
Eugene was in danger of defeat, and Eugene was compelled to go to the
Rhine, and Marlborough to admit of the Prince of Baden taking the
command on alternate days. He secretly resolved, however, that any
actions of consequence should be entered upon only on his own day.
Eugene had now taken his departure, and on the 15th of June was at
Philippsburg, on the Rhine, and Marlborough felt it time to press on,
for the States-General were now continually sending to him alarming
accounts of the French, and entreating him to send back part of his
army for their defence. Accordingly, on the 20th, he set forward, and
passed successfully the narrow, dangerous, and troublesome pass of
Geislingen, lying amongst the mountains which separated him from the
plains of the Danube. This pass was two miles long, heavy with the
deepest mud, and abounding with torrents swollen by the rains. Once
through, he came into contact with the forces of the Prince of Baden,
which were posted at Wertersteppen. On the 24th the united armies
reached Elchingen, near the Danube. The Elector of Bavaria, who was
posted at Ulm, retired, at his approach, along the banks of the Danube
to a former encampment of himself and his French allies, in a low and
swampy place between Lauingen and Dillingen. Marlborough advanced to
the little river Brenz, and encamped within two leagues of the enemy,
with his right at Amerdighem and his left at Onderingen. There he
waited till the 27th, when his brother, General Churchill, came up
with the artillery and part of the infantry. The army now amounted to
ninety-six battalions, two hundred and two squadrons, with forty-eight
pieces of artillery, pontoons, etc. He still, however, judged it
prudent to wait for the Danish horse under the Duke of Würtemberg,
which were daily expected.

During this delay the Elector forestalled the Allies in securing the
fortress of the Schellenberg, situated on a lofty hill overhanging the
town of Donauwörth. Marlborough saw the immense advantage thus gained,
and determined, cost what it might, to drive them from this stronghold.
It was held by the General Count D'Arco, with twelve thousand men;
and it was clear that it could not be forced without great loss. But
there was no time to delay. So long as the Elector held Schellenberg he
kept them in check, and was enabled to wait for the arrival of French
forces sent to relieve him. The Prince of Baden was confounded at the
daring of such an undertaking, and strongly opposed it; but Marlborough
told him that every day's delay only enabled the enemy to strengthen
himself by fresh entrenchments both there and in their swampy camp. On
the 1st of July Marlborough, having the command for the day, ordered
the assault of the Schellenberg. At three o'clock in the morning this
hardy attempt began. The picked troops advanced to the front of the
Schellenberg, crossing, on bridges prepared for the occasion, the
deep and rapid stream called the Wernitz, about noon. The Austrian
grenadiers were far in the rear, and it was five in the afternoon
before the order was given for the column to ascend. It was a murderous
prospect for the assailants. The hill was steep and rugged; the ascent
was rendered additionally difficult by a wood, a rivulet, and a deep
ravine; whilst the summit of the hill was covered with soldiers
ready to pour down the most destructive storm of shot, and that with
the prospect of an unlimited supply of soldiers and ammunition from
Donauwörth and the camp on the other side of the Danube, which was
connected with this side by a bridge. Lord Mordaunt with fifty English
grenadiers led the way as a forlorn hope. The officers of the attacking
column were nearly all killed, and it appeared likely to be swept down
the hill, but a battalion of English Guards stood its ground firmly,
and restored the courage of the rest, and once more they advanced.
D'Arco then gathered in his flanks and threw the whole weight of
his soldiery upon them to annihilate them, still pouring murderous
discharges of grape into them. It appeared impossible that any body of
men could exist under such disadvantages, and the whole column seemed
giving way, when General Lumley rushed forward at the head of a body of
horse, rallied the failing ranks, and led them again to the charge.
During this terrible conflict the assailants had not been sacrificed
unavenged. They had exterminated their enemies almost as fast as they
came, and at this moment a powder magazine exploding in the camp of the
Bavarians, spread such consternation that the Allies, taking advantage
of the panic, rushed forward, burst into the entrenchments, and threw
the whole force into confusion. This confusion was put to the climax by
the Bavarians observing the Prince of Baden ascending the hill from the
side of Donauwörth, at the head of the Imperial troops. The panic was
complete; the French and Bavarians broke in every direction, and made
the best of their way down the hill to secure the passage of the bridge
over the Danube. The Allies gave chase, and made a fearful carnage
amongst the fugitives. By the time they reached the bridge, such was
the rush and crush to cross it that it gave way. Numbers were plunged
into the stream and perished; numbers were driven by the force behind
over the banks; numbers were massacred on the spot. Of the twelve
thousand troops who had ascended the Schellenberg, only three thousand
ever rejoined the Elector of Bavaria, but many came in as stragglers
and joined the Allies. There were seven or eight thousand destroyed on
that bloody evening.

What was to be expected from the particular spirit which the Prince
of Baden had shown, took place. Though he deprecated the attack of
the Schellenberg at all, and though he allowed the English to bear
the terrible brunt of the ascent, and came up in the rear of the
engagement, because he reached the entrenchments before Marlborough
himself came up, he claimed the honour of the victory. Had he headed
the attacking column, he would have had no other claim but that of a
brave officer, for the whole plan of the campaign and the whole plan of
the attack of the Schellenberg were Marlborough's. Had the prince had
his way, there would have been no battle at all. Marlborough repelled
the mean attempt to steal his victory with contempt, and spoke some
homely truths to the Prince. It served the Louvestein faction in the
Netherlands, however, with a pretext to injure Marlborough, by casting
a medal bearing the portrait of the Prince, and on the reverse the
lines of Schellenberg. But all over the world, not excepting Germany,
justice was done to Marlborough, and from that moment his name became
famous, celebrated in songs even by the French, dreaded by French
children, whose mothers stilled them with the terrible word "Malbrouk."

But the French were hastening to prevent the destruction of their
Bavarian ally. Marlborough received the news that they had promised to
send to the Elector, under Tallard, fifty battalions of foot, and sixty
squadrons of horse of the best troops in France, which should make him
stronger than the Confederates. These troops had already crossed the
Rhine, and were making their way through the Black Forest. At the same
time Eugene, though obliged to divide his forces, at once to watch
Villeroi on the Rhine and to check the march of Tallard, promised
Marlborough that he would do his uttermost to retard the junction.
Meanwhile the Elector, in too dangerous a proximity to the victorious
army, abandoned Donauwörth, broke up his camp, and retreated towards
Augsburg, leaving his own dominions open to the incursions of the
Allies. Marlborough lost no time in availing himself of the chance. He
prepared to cross the deep and rapid river Lech, which was effected on
the 7th of July at Gunderkingen.

[Illustration: PRINCE EUGINE OF SAVOY. (_After the Portrait by Sir
Godfrey Kneller._)]

Marlborough was now in Bavaria, and the garrison at Neuburg retreating
to Ingolstadt, he had the whole of the country at his mercy. He posted
his camp at Mittelstetten on the 10th, and sent word to the Elector
that if he did not choose to come to terms he would do his best to
ruin his country; but the Elector, strongly encamped under the walls
of Augsburg, and promised early succour by the French, made no sign of
treating. Marlborough suffered his troops to levy contributions on the
country round, and his army lived luxuriously at the expense of the
unfortunate Bavarians. The true policy of the Allies was to march on
the Elector, and dispose of him before the French could come up; but
for this the Prince of Baden was in too ill a humour. In fact, the
two generals were on the worst possible terms with each other, and the
consequence was, the obvious interests of the campaign were sacrificed
to the feud and jealousy of the leaders. Marlborough proposed to march
on Munich, the capital, and take it, but the Prince would not furnish
the necessary artillery, and the thing was impossible. Marlborough
spent five days in taking Rain, a fortress of little consequence. He
also dispatched thirty squadrons to assist Eugene in obstructing the
march of the French to join the Elector. He contrived also to open
negotiations with the Elector of Bavaria. The envoy of the Emperor
offered to the Elector to restore all his dominions, and pay him a
subsidy of two hundred thousand crowns, on condition of his breaking
with the French and assisting the Emperor with twelve thousand men. But
the negotiation came to nothing, for Tallard was now rapidly advancing
with his army, and the Elector, instead of keeping an appointment with
the Emperor's envoy, sent him word that since the King of France had
made such powerful exertions to support him, he thought himself in
honour obliged to remain firm to his alliance. The Allied generals were
so much exasperated at this result that they gave up the whole country,
as far as the walls of Munich, to the ravages of the soldiery, and
three hundred burning towns, villages, and castles marked the terrible
fury of the Allies, and left an indelible stain on the glories of that
campaign.

Scarcely had Marlborough removed from before Augsburg when the Elector
quitted his camp and marched to Biberach, and there effected a junction
with Tallard.

On the 6th of August Prince Eugene galloped into Marlborough's camp to
announce this fact, and to take measures for competing with them. It
was resolved between them to get rid of the fatal incubus of the Prince
of Baden, with his pride and his jealousy, by leaving him to continue
the siege of Ingolstadt, for which purpose they left him twenty-three
battalions and thirty-one squadrons. Marlborough then prepared again
to cross the Lech and the Danube, and advance to Exheim. Here Prince
Eugene, who had set out to bring up his force to form a junction with
Marlborough, galloped back to inform him that the united French and
Bavarian army was in full march towards Dillingen, evidently intending
to attack the little army of Eugene. It was, therefore, agreed that
the troops of Eugene should fall back, and those of Marlborough should
cross the Danube to make a speedy junction with them. Eugene took
possession of the strong camp on the Schellenberg, and had his main
position at Donauwörth. On the evening of the 10th Marlborough began
to throw detachments of his army across the Danube--an operation of no
little difficulty, owing to his having to cross the Aicha, the Lech,
and the Wernitz, as well as the Danube, and all these floods were
swollen by the rains. The whole of the army, however, was got over at
different points on the 11th, and on the 12th Marlborough's baggage and
artillery came up.

The English Guards were pushed forward towards Schwenningen, and
Marlborough and Eugene ascended together the tower of a village church
to get a view of the country. There they discovered the French and
Bavarians busy marking out a camp between Blenheim and Lutzingen. They
saw at once the great advantage they should have by falling on the
enemy before they had strongly entrenched themselves, and whilst in
the confusion of encamping themselves. No sooner, however, did they
issue their orders, than some of the general officers demurred as to
the danger of attacking the foe in so strong a position as the one they
had chosen. But Marlborough told them that circumstances compelled them
to fight, and the sooner the better. Marlborough and Eugene were busy
planning the order of the battle, and at two o'clock of the morning
of the 13th of August, the forces were in full advance. In another
hour they were across the Kessell, with a combined force of fifty-two
thousand men and fifty-two pieces of artillery.

Tallard saw the march of the Allied army with great satisfaction.
He thought it would now be easy for him to interpose a strong force
between Marlborough and the army of the Prince of Baden before
Ingolstadt. But the Allies did not mean to give him any time for that.
They pushed briskly forward over very difficult ground, intersected by
rivulets and ditches; and as they were seen at seven in the morning
steadily advancing, the French and Bavarians hastily abandoned the
new lines which they were forming, and retreated towards their old
camp. On still went Marlborough and Eugene, accompanied in advance
by a Prussian officer who had fought there the preceding year, and
knew the country well. They found the enemy posted along the rising
ground from Blenheim to Lutzingen, with a gap between the villages,
which they had endeavoured to render secure by posting there a strong
body of cavalry. At the same time, between Blenheim and the Danube,
was made a strong barricade of waggons, behind which were stationed
a brigade of dismounted dragoons. Three brigades of cavalry took up
their stand in the village, and barricaded all entrances or openings
with waggons, felled trees, planks, or whatever could be found. Tallard
was in command at Blenheim, the Elector of Bavaria and General Marsin
at Lutzingen. The castle and church-tower at Blenheim were filled with
soldiers, and the Count Clerambault was ordered to defend the village
of Blenheim by his artillery to the last.

Against this position, defended by fifty-seven thousand men, or about
five thousand more than the Allies, advanced the Confederate army. In
front of the enemy also ran the little river Nebel, which was deep, and
the bottom muddy. Marlborough led on the left wing against Blenheim,
and Eugene the right against Lutzingen. The first of the army to cross
the Nebel and advance against Blenheim was a body of English and
Hessians under Major-General Wilkes and Lord Cutts. Cutts, who was
famous for a storm, was ordered to make an impetuous attack on the
village; and, getting across the Nebel by means of fascines, he led
his horse under a terrible fire of grape right against the palisadoes
and barricades. The French poured into the assailants, however, such
a storm of grape as mowed down great numbers of officers and men,
amongst whom was General Rowe, who had advanced to the very face of
the palisadoes with his lieutenant-colonel and major. The English in
the van were thrown into confusion and assailed by three squadrons
of gendarmes; but the Hessians advanced to their aid, and the French
were driven back to their lines. Lord Cutts then led on his horse, and
maintained a desperate fight under the fire of the protected French.
Whilst they were engaged in this deadly _mélée_ the brigades of Hudson
and Ferguson had crossed the stream, and marched right up to the
village, silencing some batteries which commanded the fords of the
river. The fight was maintained hand to hand, the opponents thrusting
at each other through the interstices of the palisadoes; but the
contest was too unequal between the covered and uncovered, and with the
soldiers from the old castle and the church-tops pouring down showers
of musket-balls on the Allies.

During this time Marlborough had been leading another body of troops
along the banks of the Nebel, and joining them under a terrible
fire of grape opposite to the gap between the villages, and only
waiting, to bear on this point, for the artillery, under the Prince of
Holstein-Beck, getting over the river. The Prince no sooner had got
partly across the stream than his advance was furiously attacked by the
Irish Brigade, which was in the pay of Louis XIV. They cut the advance
nearly to pieces, and would have effectually prevented the transit of
artillery had not Marlborough himself hastened to the spot and beaten
them off, as well as heavy bodies of French and Bavarian cavalry. He
then posted a body of horse along the river to protect the crossing of
the forces.

Lord Cutts during this had fallen back from the entrenchments of
the village, finding it impossible to clear a way into it without
artillery. But the artillery over, Marlborough united his forces with
those of Eugene, which were bearing on Lutzingen, and was preparing
for his grand design of cutting the French and Bavarians asunder, by
throwing his whole weight on the cavalry posted between the villages.
It was not, however, till five in the afternoon that he was able to
lead on the attack, consisting of two columns of horse supported by
infantry. He dashed rapidly up the hill towards the important point,
on which was concentrated Tallard's cavalry, and part of the infantry
from the village. Marlborough gained the summit of the hill under heavy
loss, but there the enemy stood in such solid force that he was driven
back for a hundred paces. The heat of the battle was at this point, and
if Marlborough had been compelled to give way, there was little chance
of succeeding against the enemy; but he returned with all his vigour to
the charge, by this time his artillery had gained the summit, and after
a desperate struggle the fire of the French began to slacken. As soon
as he perceived that, he made a grand charge, broke the horse, and cut
to pieces or made prisoners of seven regiments of infantry.

Tallard, seeing his cavalry in flight, and his infantry fast being
overpowered, sent messengers to call the Elector to his aid, and to
order up the rest of the infantry from Blenheim. But the Elector was
in full engagement with Eugene, and found enough to do to maintain
possession of Lutzingen. Nor did Marlborough allow time for the coming
up of fresh enemies. He attacked Tallard with such impetuosity,
and such an overwhelming force of cavalry, that he was completely
disorganised, and, turning his horse, galloped off towards Sonderheim,
another part of his cavalry making for Hochstadt. Marlborough pursued
Tallard at full speed, slaughtering his men all down the declivity
towards the Danube, where they had thrown over a bridge between
Hochstadt and Blenheim; but being so pressed, and at the same time
attacked in the flank, numbers were forced into the river and perished.
Tallard, being surrounded, and his son killed, was compelled to
surrender near a mill behind the village of Sonderheim, together with
the Marquis of Montperous, General of Horse, the Majors-General de
Seppeville, De Silly, De la Valiere, and many other officers. Those who
fled towards Hochstadt fared little better. They became entangled in a
morass, where they were cut to pieces, drowned in the Danube, or made
prisoners, except the celebrated brigade of Grignan, and some of the
gendarmes, who regained the heights of Hochstadt.

Meanwhile Prince Eugene had been sharply engaged with the Elector
of Bavaria at Lutzingen, and after receiving several repulses had
succeeded in driving the Elector out of Lutzingen; and, turning his
flank, he posted himself on the edge of a ravine to mark the condition
of the field in general. He there received a message from Marlborough
to say that he was now able to come to his assistance if he needed it;
but the prince replied that he had no need of it, for the forces of
Marsin and the Elector were driven out of Lutzingen and Oberclau, and
that his cavalry were pursuing them to Morselingen and Teissenhoven,
whence they retreated to Dillingen and Lauingen. Marlborough despatched
a body of cavalry to Eugene near the blazing village of Lutzingen;
but the darkness now settling down, the commander, amid the smoke of
powder and of the burning village, mistook the troops of Eugene for
the Bavarians and wheeled round, so that the opportunity was lost of
inflicting fresh injury on the fugitives.

There were still twelve thousand men unsubdued in Blenheim, and
Marlborough began to surround the place. These forces had lost their
commander, Clerambault, who had been carried away in the rush down the
hill and was drowned in the Danube; but the men still made a vigorous
resistance. Every minute, however, they were getting more hemmed in
by troops and artillery. Fire was set to the buildings, and every
chance of escape was cut off. For some time they maintained a killing
fire from the walls and houses; but as the flames advanced, they
made several attempts at cutting through their assailants, but were
driven back at every point. They finally offered to capitulate, but
Marlborough would hear of nothing but an unconditional surrender, to
which they were obliged to assent. Besides these, whole regiments had
laid down their arms, and begged for quarter. Thus was annihilated
at a blow the invincible army of France, which was to have seized on
Vienna, destroyed the Empire, and placed all Germany and the Continent
under the feet of Louis. The event had fully justified the bold
design of Marlborough; instead of fighting the enemy in detail, he
attacked him at his very heart, and closed the campaign by a single
master-stroke.

Soon after the battle three thousand Germans, who had been serving in
the French army, joined the Allies; and on the 19th of August, six days
after the battle, Marlborough and Eugene began their march towards
Ulm. Three days before that, the garrison of Augsburg had quitted that
city, and Marlborough and Eugene called on the Prince of Baden to leave
a few troops at Ingolstadt to invest it, as it must now necessarily
surrender, and to join them with the rest of his forces, that they
might sweep the enemy completely out of Germany. Marshal Tallard was
sent under a guard of dragoons to Frankfort, and Marlborough encamped
at Sefillingen, near Ulm. There he and Eugene were joined by Louis of
Baden, and, leaving a sufficient force to reduce Ulm, the combined army
marched towards the Rhine. At Bruchsal, near Philippsburg, the Prince
of Baden insisted that they should all stay and compel the surrender of
Landau. This was opposed to the whole plans of Marlborough and Eugene,
which were to give the French no time to reflect, but to drive them
over their own frontiers. The Prince was now more than ever obstinate.
The glory which Marlborough had won, and part of which he had tried
to filch from him, was extremely galling to him, and especially that
so much honour should fall to the lot of a heretic. The generals were
obliged to follow his fancy; they allowed the Prince to sit down before
the town, and Marlborough and Eugene encamped at Croon-Weissingen to
support him. This took place on the 12th of September, and Landau held
out till the 23rd of November, when it capitulated on honourable terms,
and the King of the Romans characteristically came into the camp to
have the honour of taking the place--so fond are these German princes
of stepping into other people's honours instead of winning them for
themselves. By this delay the precious remainder of the campaign was
lost, and the French had time given them to recover their spirits, and
to take measures for holding what was yet left them. After this the
Confederate army sat down before Trarbach, which surrendered to the
hereditary Prince of Hesse-Cassel in the middle of December, which
closed the campaign.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF BLENHEIM: CHARGE OF MARLBOROUGH'S HORSE. (_See
p._ 555.)]

Marlborough had not waited for these insignificant operations, but
had proceeded to Berlin to engage the King of Prussia to suspend his
claims on the Dutch, and to enter more zealously into the alliance for
the perfect clearance of the French from Germany. He prevailed on the
king to promise eight thousand troops for the assistance of the Duke of
Savoy, and to be commanded by the Prince Eugene; and he exerted himself
with the Emperor to effect a settlement with the insurgents in Hungary,
but his own triumphs stood in the way of his success. The Emperor,
since Marlborough's victories, was so elated that he would listen to
no reasonable terms. From Berlin Marlborough proceeded to Hanover,
and paid his court to the family which was to succeed to the Crown of
England. Thence he went to the Hague, where he was received with high
honours by the States-General on account of the victories which he
would never have achieved could they have restrained him. He arrived in
England in the middle of December, carrying with him Marshal Tallard
and the rest of the distinguished officers, with the standards and
other trophies of his victories. He was received with acclaim by all
classes except a few ultra-Tories, who threatened to impeach him for
his rash march to the Danube. As Parliament had assembled, Marlborough
took his seat in the House of Peers the day after his arrival, where he
was complimented on his magnificent success by the Lord Keeper. This
was followed by a deputation with a vote of thanks from the Commons,
and by similar honours from the City. But perhaps the most palpable
triumph of Marlborough was the transferring of the military trophies
which he had taken, from the Tower, where they were first deposited,
to Westminster Hall. This was done by each soldier carrying a standard
or other trophy, amid the thunders of artillery and the hurrahs of the
people; such a spectacle never having been witnessed since the days of
the Spanish Armada. The royal manor of Woodstock was granted him, and
Blenheim Mansion erected at the cost of the nation.

Besides the victories of Marlborough, there had been successes at
sea, and one of them of far more consequence than was at the time
imagined--namely, the conquest of Gibraltar.

Sir George Rooke, having landed King Charles at Lisbon, sent
Rear-Admiral Dilkes with a squadron to cruise off Cape Spartel, and
himself, by order of the queen, sailed for the relief of Nice and
Villafranca, which were supposed to be in danger from the French under
the Duke of Vendôme. King Charles at the same time desired him to make
a demonstration in his favour before Barcelona, for he was assured
that a force had only to appear on that coast and the whole population
would declare for him. Rooke, accordingly, taking on board the Prince
of Hesse-Darmstadt, who had formerly been Viceroy of Catalonia, sailed
for Barcelona, and invited the governor to declare for his rightful
sovereign, King Charles. The governor replied that Philip V. was his
lawful sovereign. The Prince of Hesse-Darmstadt, however, assured the
admiral that there were five to one in the city in favour of King
Charles, and Rooke allowed the prince to land with two thousand men;
but there was no sign of any movement in favour of Austria. The Dutch
ketches then bombarded the place with little effect, and the troops
were re-embarked, lest they should be fallen upon by superior numbers.
On the 16th of June, Rooke being joined by Sir Cloudesley Shovel,
they sailed to Nice, but found it in no danger; and they then went
in quest of the French fleet, which Rooke in the preceding month had
caught sight of on their way to Toulon. On the 17th of July a council
of war was held in the road of Tetuan, and it was resolved to make an
attempt on Gibraltar, which was represented to have only a slender
garrison. On the 21st the fleet came to anchor before Gibraltar, and
the marines, under the command of the Prince of Hesse-Darmstadt, landed
on the narrow sandy isthmus which connects the celebrated rock with
the mainland, and called on the governor to surrender. Though cut off
from relief from the land, and with a formidable fleet in the bay, the
governor stoutly replied that he would defend the place to the last
extremity.

The next day Rooke gave orders for cannonading the town. On the 23rd,
soon after daybreak, the cannonading commenced with terrible effect.
Fifteen thousand shots were discharged in five or six hours; the
South Mole Head was demolished, and the Spaniards driven in every
quarter from their guns. Captain Whitaker was then ordered to arm all
the boats, and assault that quarter. Captains Hicks and Jumper, who
were nearest the Mole, immediately manned their pinnaces, and entered
the fortifications sword in hand. They were soon, however, treading
on a mine, which the Spaniards exploded, killing or wounding two
lieutenants and about a hundred men. But Hicks and Jumper seized a
platform, and kept their ground till they were supported by Captain
Whitaker with the rest of the seamen, who took by storm a redoubt
between the town and the Mole. Then the governor capitulated, and the
Prince of Hesse entered the place with his marines, amazed at once at
the strength of the place and the ease with which it had been taken. In
fact, this key of the Mediterranean, which has since defied the united
powers of Christendom, was taken in three days, one day of which was
rendered almost useless by the fierceness of the wind.

Rooke left the Prince of Hesse-Darmstadt and the marines to hold the
fortress, and returned to Tetuan to take in wood and water, and again
sailed up the Mediterranean. On the 9th of August he came in sight
of the French fleet lying off Malaga, and ready to receive him. It
consisted of fifty-two great ships and four-and-twenty galleys, under
the Count de Toulouse, High Admiral of France, and all clean and in
the best condition; Rooke's fleet of fifty-three ships of the line,
exclusive of frigates, was inferior to the French in guns and men, as
well as in weight of metal; and, what was worse, the ships were very
foul in their bottoms, and many of them ill provided with ammunition.
Nevertheless, Rooke determined to engage; and on Sunday, the 13th, at
ten o'clock in the morning, the battle began, and raged till two in
the afternoon, when the van of the French gave way. This result would
have been much earlier arrived at, had not several of the English ships
soon exhausted their powder, and been forced to draw out of the line.
During the afternoon firing at longer distances was kept up, but at
night Toulouse bore away to leeward. The next morning the wind favoured
the French, but they did not avail themselves of it, but bore away for
Toulon, pursued by Rooke as well as the foulness of his ships would let
him. Not a ship was lost or taken by either side in the battle, but
the loss in killed and wounded was great. On the part of the English
the killed and wounded amounted to three thousand; on the French side
it was supposed to reach four thousand, including two hundred officers
killed. Sir Cloudesley Shovel, who led the van, said that he had never
seen a sea-fight so furiously contested. The effect of the battle was
to render the French shy of coming to any great engagement on the sea
during the remainder of the war.

The Parliament of England met on the 29th of October, and the queen
congratulated the two Houses on the remarkable success which had
attended her arms, and trusted that it would enable her to secure
the great object for which they fought--the liberty of Europe. She
encouraged them to carry on their debates without contentions, and
avowed her determination to be indulgent to all her subjects. But
nothing could prevent the animosity which raged between the Whig
and Tory factions from showing itself. The Lords congratulated her
Majesty on the glorious victories of Marlborough, without noticing
those of Sir George Rooke; and the Commons, to whose party Rooke, an
old Tory, belonged, exalted his exploits to an equality with those of
Marlborough. Notwithstanding the queen's promise of being kind and
indulgent to all her subjects, a strenuous attempt was again made to
carry the Occasional Conformity Bill. At the suggestion of Mr. William
Bromley it was tacked to the Land Tax Bill, and was so sent up to the
Peers. The queen went to the House of Lords to listen to the debate,
where she heard Tenison, the Archbishop of Canterbury, honestly
denounce the illiberal and persecuting spirit which had suggested such
a Bill. This praiseworthy language was strongly echoed out of doors by
De Foe, whose pen was never idle on such occasions, and the Court now
seemed to be convinced that it had gone too far. Godolphin, who had on
former occasions voted for it, now opposed it, and the Lords threw it
out by a majority of one-and-twenty votes.

The two Houses of Parliament continued fighting out the remainder of
the Session with the case of the Aylesbury election. Encouraged by
the conduct of the Lords and the declaration of Lord Chief Justice
Holt--that if any messengers of the Commons dared to enter Westminster
Hall to seize any lawyer who had pleaded in favour of the Aylesbury
electors, he would commit them to Newgate,--five fresh electors sued
the constables, on the ground of their having been impeded in the
exercise of their franchise. The Commons committed these five persons
to Newgate, and they thereupon applied to the Court of Queen's Bench
for a Habeas Corpus. The Court refused to interfere. Two of the
prisoners then petitioned the queen to bring their case before her in
Parliament. The Commons immediately prayed the queen not to interfere
with their privileges by granting a Writ of Error in this case. She
replied that she would not willingly do anything to give them just
cause of offence, but that this matter relating to judicial proceedings
was of such high importance to the subject that she thought herself
bound to weigh and consider everything relating to it. The Commons,
fearing from this answer that the queen might be induced to grant the
prisoners a Writ of Error, sent and took them from Newgate, and kept
them in the custody of their Serjeant-at-Arms, at the same time voting
all the lawyers who had pleaded in favour of the prisoners guilty of a
breach of privilege. The prisoners then appealed to the Lords, and the
Lords, after seeking a conference with the Commons to arrive at some
conclusion as to the right in this case, but with no result, appealed
to the queen, declaring that the Commons were assailing the birthright
of every subject, and violating Magna Charta by refusing these citizens
the right of appealing to a court of justice; and they prayed her
to give orders for the immediate issue of the Writs of Error. Her
Majesty assured them that she would have complied with their request,
but that it was now absolutely necessary to prorogue Parliament, and
therefore further proceedings, they would see, must be useless. The
Lords considered this as a triumph, the queen's words implying that
they had right on their side, and thus equally implying a censure on
the Commons. In fact, the queen was glad to get rid of the dilemma and
of this troublesome Tory Parliament at the same time. The same day
that the Lords waited on her she went to their House and prorogued
Parliament till the 1st of May, 1705; but on the 5th of April she
dissolved it by proclamation, and writs were issued for calling a new
one.

Marlborough in 1705 went early to the Continent. On the 13th of March
he embarked for the Hague. He had a splendid plan of operations for
this campaign on the Moselle, but he found, notwithstanding his now
grand reputation, the usual obstacles to daring action in the Dutch
phlegm. Having conquered this, and obtained leave to convey the troops
to the Moselle, he was met by a still more mortifying difficulty in
the conduct of the Prince of Baden, who was at the head of the German
contingents. This man had never been cordial since the first successes
of Marlborough. He was consumed with a deadly jealousy of his fame, and
thought it no use fighting in company with him, as Marlborough would be
sure to get all the honours. He therefore hung back from co-operation
in Marlborough's plan, pretending illness; which, had the illness
been real, should, at such a crisis for his country, have induced him
to delegate the command of the forces for its defence to some other
general. To add to the difficulties of Marlborough, the inferior French
generals, Villeroi and others, who had risen into prominence through
the interest of Madame de Maintenon and her priests and Jesuits, were
removed from this quarter, and Villars, the most able commander now
of the French, sent instead. The intention was to besiege Saar-Louis,
but the wretched Prince of Baden did not keep his engagement. He had
advanced, not with a strong army but only a small body of Imperial
troops, to Kreutznach, where he again feigned illness, went off to the
baths at Schlangenbad, and left the troops in the command of the Count
Friez. The defection was so barefaced that many began to suspect him of
being corrupted by the French; but he was really sick--of Marlborough's
renown.

The duke, thus deceived, was unable to carry out his enterprise, and
fell back instead of attacking Villars. In his contempt of the Prince
of Baden, before retreating he sent a trumpet to Villars, saying,
"Do me the justice to believe that my retreat is entirely owing to
the failure of the Prince of Baden; but my esteem for you is still
greater than my resentment of his conduct." But though forced to this
mortifying expedient, Marlborough saw that he could quickly vindicate
his reputation by uniting with the army of the Netherlands, and
carrying operations against the enemy there. General Overkirk had not
been able to stand his ground. The French had invested and taken Huy,
and Villars had commenced the siege of Liége. Marlborough marched to
Treves, where he called a council of war, and it was resolved to drive
Villars from the walls of Liége. On the 19th of June the army commenced
its march, and proceeded with such expedition that it passed the Meuse
on the 1st of July. Villars, on Marlborough's approach, abandoned Liége
and retired to Tongres, and thence retreated behind his lines, which
extended to Marche aux Dames on the Meuse, along the Mehaigne as far
as Lenuève. No sooner did Marlborough come up with Overkirk than he
determined to recover Huy, and sent General Scholten, who reduced it in
a few days. To wipe out as quickly the impression of his retreat from
the Moselle, he despatched General Hompesch to the States-General to
demand permission to attack the French lines, which was granted him.

[Illustration: ANNE.]

Marlborough then detailed his plan of operation in two successive
councils of war, where it was generally approved, but still opposed
as rash by some of the Dutch generals. The enemy had manned his lines
with a hundred battalions and forty-six squadrons; the forces of the
Confederates were something more than that in amount; and in order
to weaken the enemy on the point where he contemplated his attack,
the duke directed Overkirk to make a feint, as though he were about
to attack the lines on the Mehaigne. The ruse succeeded. The French
weakened their lines where Marlborough really contemplated the attack,
in order to strengthen them in the direction of Namur. All being ready.
Marlborough marched in the night between the 17th and 18th of July, to
force the lines at Heyselem, the castle of Wauge, and the villages of
Wauge, Neerhespen, and Oostmalen. This succeeded, and after some hard
fighting the duke extended his forces within a portion of the French
lines, capturing the Marquis D'Alègre, Count Horne, a major-general,
two brigadier-generals, and many other officers, besides ten cannon
and numerous standards and colours. In consequence of this defeat the
Elector of Bavaria and Marshal Villeroi retreated across the Geete and
the Dyle in all haste. Marlborough marched after them, capturing twelve
hundred prisoners who could not keep up with the retreating force, and
on the 15th was at Mildert, whence he marched the next day to Genappe,
and thence to Fischermont, driving in the enemy's post as he advanced.
He was now on ground destined to become much more famous in our time.
On the 17th Overkirk had his headquarters at Waterloo, the enemy
lying in their front across the roads to Brussels and Louvain, near
the wood of Soignies. Here Marlborough proposed to come to a general
engagement with them, but again he was thwarted by the Dutch officers
and deputies, and most determinedly by General Schlangenburg. The
duke, indignant at this dastardly obstruction of his operations, wrote
very plainly to the States-General, complaining of the uselessness of
pursuing the campaign if they had yet no confidence in his prudence
and military talent. In order that the Dutch people should know of his
complaints, he took care to have the letter published in the papers
at the Hague, and that similar complaints should reach his own Court.
These being made public, roused a storm of indignation against the
meddling Dutch field-deputies, who presumed to justify their conduct to
the States-General in several letters. But the anger of both England
and Holland soon roused the States-General to a sense of their folly.
Hearing that the queen was about to despatch the Earl of Pembroke,
the President of the Council, as Envoy Extraordinary to the Hague, to
remonstrate on their suicidal conduct, the States-General hastened to
apologise to the duke, and to remove Schlangenburg from his command.
The opportunity, however, of a decisive blow on the French had been
missed, and little was achieved this campaign.

Meanwhile the Spaniards were making a desperate effort for the recovery
of Gibraltar. Marshal Tessé laid siege to it, whilst De Pointes
blockaded it by sea. These French officers pushed on the siege with
vigour, and the Prince of Hesse-Darmstadt sent a despatch to Lisbon,
desiring Sir John Leake to hasten to his assistance. Sir John set
sail at once with five ships of the line and a body of troops, and on
the 10th of March came in sight of five ships of De Pointes, who was
evidently aware of him and getting out of the way. Leake gave chase,
took one, and drove the rest on shore to the west of Marbella. The rest
of the French ships in the bay of Malaga made the best of their way to
Toulon. Gibraltar being thus again open from the sea, the Marquis de
Tessé withdrew the greater part of his forces, leaving only sufficient
to maintain the blockade on land.

But a far more striking demonstration was made from another quarter.
This was made on Valencia and Catalonia by the witty and accomplished,
and equally unscrupulous, Earl of Peterborough, formerly known as
Lord Mordaunt. This dashing nobleman, become Earl of Peterborough by
the death of his uncle, was despatched with reinforcements amounting
to five thousand soldiers and a strong fleet under command of Sir
Cloudesley Shovel. On the 20th of June they arrived at Lisbon, where
they were joined by Sir John Leake and the Dutch Admiral Allemonde.
They proposed to put to sea with eight-and-forty ships of the line,
and cruise between Cape Spartel and the Bay of Cadiz to prevent
the junction of the Toulon and Brest fleets. But the Prince of
Hesse-Darmstadt, who had arrived from Gibraltar, assured them that
the people of Catalonia and Valencia were strongly attached to King
Charles, and only required the presence of a sufficient force to
declare themselves. The adventure was just of the kind to charm the
active spirit of Lord Peterborough. It was proposed that King Charles
should sail with them on board the fleet, and that they should make a
descent on Barcelona. On the 11th of August they anchored in the Bay
of Altea, and issued a proclamation in the Spanish language, and found
that the people flocked in to acknowledge King Charles. They took the
town of Denia and garrisoned it for Charles with four hundred men under
Major Ramos.

Such was the enthusiasm of the inhabitants that Peterborough proposed
to make a forced march right for Madrid at once, and set Charles on
the throne without further delay, declaring that he was confident of
taking the capital by a _coup de main_; and there is little doubt but
he would have succeeded had he had the sole command. But such daring
projects, the flashes of genius, only confound matter-of-fact men;
the plan was looked on as little short of madness, the adventure was
overruled, the fleet sailed, and on the 22nd arrived in the bay of
Barcelona. There was a garrison of five thousand men within the town
and castle of Barcelona, and the English force amounted to little
more than six thousand. But the inhabitants displayed the utmost
loyalty to the new king; they received him with acclamations, and the
English landed and invested the town. Here again, however, the erratic
genius of Lord Peterborough startled more orthodox commanders. By all
the rules of war the town ought to be taken first, and the castle
afterwards; but Peterborough saw that the castle commanded the town,
and must be continually inflicting injury on them in the course of
the siege. He determined, therefore, not by the laws of war, but of
common sense, to take the castle first. None but the brave Prince of
Hesse-Darmstadt held his view of the matter, and to him alone did he,
therefore, communicate his plans; but he took a close survey of this
strong castle of Montjuich, convinced himself that it was not so well
garrisoned as was represented, and that it might be taken by address
and promptitude. He instantly began to re-embark some of his troops, as
if about to abandon the enterprise, so as to throw the Spaniards off
their guard, and then suddenly, on the night of the 3rd of December,
sent about fourteen hundred men by two different routes to attack the
castle. He himself, accompanied by the Prince of Hesse-Darmstadt, led
the first of these bodies, General Stanhope the other. It was not
till about daybreak that the earl made his attack on the outworks of
the castle, and established himself on a platform with a few small
field-pieces and mortars. There they awaited the coming up of General
Stanhope; but he had missed his way, and did not arrive in time. The
governor of the castle, seeing the small number of the assailants, made
a headlong sally from the castle, thinking to sweep the rash detachment
down the hill, but he found himself mistaken; and whilst Lord
Peterborough was in close engagement with him, General Stanhope came
up, and the governor withdrew within the walls. The English then began
to throw bombshells into the castle, and one of these speedily ignited
a magazine, and blew it up with a tremendous explosion. The governor
himself was killed by it, and the garrison in consternation surrendered.

Lord Peterborough could now not only invest the city without
annoyance from the castle, but could turn the guns of the castle on
the Spaniards, showing the correctness of his ideas in opposition
to the red-tape of war. He pursued the siege with such effect that
Velasquez, the governor, agreed to surrender in four days if he did
not receive relief in that time; but he was not able to hold out even
these four days, for the country swarmed with Miquelets, a sort of
lawless Catalans, who declared for the Austrians. Numbers of these,
who had assisted the seamen in throwing bombs from the ketches into
the city, and in other operations against the town, now clambered
over the walls, and began plundering the inhabitants and violating
the women. The governor and his troops were unable to put them down.
They threatened to throw open the gates and let in whole hordes of the
like rabble, to massacre the people and sack the place. Velasquez was
therefore compelled, before the expiration of the four days, to call in
the assistance of the Earl of Peterborough himself, who rode into the
city at the head of a body of troops with General Stanhope and other
officers, and amid the random firing of the Miquelets, by his commands
and by the occasional use of the flat of their swords, the marauders
were reduced to quiet. Having quelled this frightful riot, Lord
Peterborough and his attendants again quitted the city, and awaited
the rest of the four days, much to the astonishment of the Spaniards,
who had been taught to look on the English as a species of lawless and
heretical barbarians. Barcelona surrendered on the day appointed, and
immediately the whole of Catalonia, and every fortified place in it,
except Rosas, declared for Charles.

The Earl of Peterborough did not, however, pause in his movements. He
marched for San Matteo, at a distance of thirty leagues, to raise the
siege carried on by the forces of King Philip. Through roads such as
Spain has always been famous for down to the campaigns of Wellington,
he plunged and dragged along his cannon, appeared before San Matteo
in a week, raised the siege, and again set forward towards the city
of Valencia, which he speedily reduced, and took in it the Marquis
de Villagarcia, the Viceroy, and the Archbishop. Soon every place in
Catalonia and Valencia acknowledged the authority of King Charles
except the seaport of Alicante. The whole campaign resembled more a
piece of romance than a reality. The earl's own officers could scarcely
believe their senses; and as for the Spaniards, they said he had a
devil in him, and was master of all magic and necromancy.

When the Parliament met on the 25th of October, it was found that a
strong majority of Whigs had been returned; and, in the struggle for
the Speakership, the nominee of the Tories, Mr. Bromley, was rejected,
and the nominee of the Whigs, Mr. John Smith, chosen by a majority
of two hundred and fifty to two hundred and seven. The speech of the
queen was said to be the composition of the new Lord Keeper, Cowper,
but to have undergone considerable revision in the Council. In this the
Whig policy shone strongly forth. She expressed her determination to
continue the war till the Bourbon prince was driven from the throne of
Spain, and the Austrian prince established.

In the House of Lords, Lord Haversham proposed that, for the security
of the Protestant succession and of the Church, the House should
address the queen, praying her to invite over the heir-presumptive to
the Crown--that is, the Electress Sophia of Hanover. The Tories trusted
that if they could get over the Princess Sophia and her son George,
they would be able to play off one Court against the other; that,
though the Whigs had got possession of the queen, they should then be
able to ingratiate themselves with her successor, and thus prepare to
supersede the Whigs altogether in the new reign. At the same time
they should be supporting the popular feeling regarding the Protestant
succession, and annoying the queen, who had dismissed them from her
favour. There had been for some time a party called the Hanoverian
Tories, who were bent on securing their interest with that House; and
the Jacobites joined this party, hoping, under cover of a pretence
for the Protestant succession, they might yet find an occasion for
promoting the hopes of the Pretender. But this was a hazardous policy
for both parties; for, as Anne was mortally jealous of her successor,
as is generally the case with princes, the Tories only more completely
lost all chance of regaining her favour; and as the Electress Sophia,
knowing Anne's feeling, was obliged to disclaim any wish to come to
England during the queen's life, she was thus, in fact, obliged to
disown the efforts of the Tories. Sophia, indeed, wrote to the queen
herself, informing her that an agent from the discontented party in
England had come to her Court to invite herself and the Electoral
Prince, her son George, into England, assuring them that a party there
was ready to propose it; but that she had caused the said person to
be acquainted that she judged the message to come from such as were
enemies to her family, that she would never hearken to such a proposal
but when it came from the queen herself, and that she had discouraged
the attempt so much that it was believed nothing more would be heard of
it.

The Tories thought that they had now placed the Whigs on the horns
of a dilemma; that they must either offend the House of Hanover and
the popular feeling of the country by opposing the motion, or lose
the favour of the queen by conceding this specious measure; for Anne
would have resented above everything the slightest suggestion that
her successors were waiting for her throne in England, and courted by
whichever party was in opposition.

But the Whigs had weighed all the dangers of the dilemma, and were
prepared with special remedies for them. So far did they profess
themselves from wishing to weaken the certainty of the Protestant
succession that, without adopting the very dubious measure recommended,
they proposed to appoint a regency to hold the government, in case
of the death of her present Majesty, for the successor, till he or
she should arrive in this country. By this adroit measure the queen
was spared the annoyance of seeing her successor converted into a
rival, and yet the prospects of this succession were strengthened.
Accordingly, a Bill was brought in, appointing the seven persons who
should at the time possess the offices of Archbishop of Canterbury,
Lord Chancellor or Lord Keeper, Lord Treasurer, Lord President,
Lord Privy Seal, Lord High Admiral, and Lord Chief Justice of the
Queen's Bench, as a regency, who should proclaim the next successor
throughout the kingdom, and join with a certain number of persons,
named also regents by the successor, in three lists, to be sealed up
and deposited with the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord Keeper, and
the Minister residentiary at Hanover. These regents were to conduct the
administration; and the last Parliament, even though dissolved, should
reassemble and continue to sit for six months after the decease of her
Majesty. This Bill, notwithstanding the opposition of the Tories, was
carried through both Houses.

To prevent any unpleasant feeling at Hanover, the Whigs immediately
passed another Bill, naturalising not only the Princess Sophia but
all her descendants, wheresoever or whensoever born, and they sent
over to Hanover the Earl of Halifax, with letters from Lord Somers,
Lord Cowper, and other leading Whigs, but, above all, from the Duke of
Marlborough, and conveying to the Prince George the Order of the Garter
from the queen. By these measures the Whigs completely turned the Tory
stratagems against that party itself, whose attempts to damage them
they thus rendered the means of a perfect triumph, not only retaining
the warm favour of the queen, but establishing an alliance with the
House of Hanover which, with few interruptions, continued to the
commencement of the reign of George III.

On the 19th of March, 1706, the queen prorogued Parliament till the
21st of May. Towards the end of April Marlborough proceeded to Holland
to commence the campaign. The severe defeat which the troops of Louis
had received in Germany the last year nerved him to fresh exertions. He
had little fear of dealing with the Prince of Baden on the Upper Rhine;
but Marlborough in the Netherlands, Eugene in Savoy, and Peterborough
in Spain, demanded his whole vigour, and he determined to act with
decision on all points, and especially against Marlborough. He heard
that the Danes and Prussians had not yet joined the Confederate army,
and he ordered Villeroi to attack it before these reinforcements
could come up. In consequence of this order Villeroi and the Elector
of Bavaria--who, in spite of his severe chastisement, still adhered
to France against his own country--passed the Dyle, and posted
themselves, on the 19th of May, at Tirlemont. They were there joined by
the cavalry under Marshal Marsin, and encamped between Tirlemont and
Judoigne.

Marlborough assembled his army between Borschloen and Groswaren, and
found it to consist of seventy-four battalions of foot, and one hundred
and twenty-three squadrons of horse and dragoons, well supplied with
artillery and pontoons. Hearing that the French were advancing towards
him, Marlborough, being now joined by the Danes, set forward and
appeared in eight columns before the village of Ramillies. The French,
who had already taken possession of Ramillies, and strongly fortified
it, entrenched themselves in a strong camp, the right extending to the
Mehaigne, and covered by the villages of Tavière and Ramillies, and
their left to Autre-Église. The duke posted his right wing near Foltz,
on the brook of Yause, and his left at the village of Franquenies.
Villeroi had committed the capital blunder of leaving his wings
sundered by impassable ground, so that they could not act in support of
each other.

It was about half-past one o'clock when Marlborough ordered General
Schulz, with twelve battalions, to attack Ramillies, whilst Overkirk
attacked Autre-Église on the left. Schulz, who had twenty pieces of
cannon, opened fire on Ramillies, but met with so warm a reception that
he had great difficulty in maintaining his ground; but Marlborough
supported him with column after column, and the fight there was raging
terribly. In the midst of it Marlborough, seeing some of the men driven
from the guns, galloped up to encourage them. He was recognised by the
French, who made a dash and surrounded him. He broke through them,
however, by a desperate effort; but in endeavouring to regain his own
ranks, his horse fell in leaping a ditch, and the duke was thrown. As
the French were hotly upon them, another moment and he must have been
taken, but Captain Molesworth, one of his aide-de-camps, mounted him
on his own horse. As he was in the act of springing into the saddle,
a cannon-ball took off the head of Colonel Brenfield, who held the
stirrup; but Marlborough himself escaped, and regained the main body
unhurt, except for a few bruises. Meanwhile Overkirk, with the Dutch
guards, and by help of the Danes, had succeeded in driving the French
from the enclosures of Autre-Église, cutting off the communication
between the two wings, and driving numbers of the French into the
Mehaigne. The Bavarians under the Elector fought bravely; more so
than the French, for these were become dispirited by their repeated
defeats, and especially the rout of Blenheim. Their veteran troops were
extremely reduced in numbers; and Louis, to fill the ranks, had forced
the unwilling peasantry into the army, sending them even in chains to
the campaign to prevent them from deserting on the way. Such troops
could not do much against the victorious Allies under a general like
Marlborough.

On Marlborough regaining the ranks, he led up the attack with fresh
vigour. The village of Ramillies was carried and most of the French
who defended it were cut to pieces. The Prince of Würtemberg and the
Prince of Hesse-Cassel got into the rear of Villeroi, and the panic
became general. The infantry began to retreat--at first in tolerable
order, protected by the cavalry, which were posted between Ossuz and
Autre-Église; but the English cavalry, under General Wyndham and
General Ward, having managed to get over a rivulet which separated
them, fell on them with such spirit near the farm of Chaintrain that
they were thrown into confusion. The Bavarians suffered severely, and
the Elector had a narrow escape for his life. Villeroi himself with
difficulty made good his flight. In the midst of the rout a narrow
pass, through which the French were flying, suddenly became obstructed
by the breakdown of some baggage waggons. The cavalry, pressing on
in their rear, then made terrible havoc amongst them. The flight was
continued all the way to Judoigne, and Lord Orkney, with some squadrons
of light horse, never drew bit till they had chased the fugitives into
Louvain, nearly seven leagues from Ramillies. The baggage, cannon,
colours--everything fell into the hands of the Allies. There were one
hundred and twenty colours, six hundred officers, and six thousand
private soldiers captured.

Besides these, it was calculated that eight thousand were killed and
wounded. Of the Allies, Marlborough declared that only one thousand
fell, and two thousand were wounded. The Prince Maximilian of Bavaria
and Prince Monbason were among the slain; amongst the prisoners were
Major-Generals Palavicini and Mezières, the Marquises De Bar, De
Nonant, and De la Baume (the son of Marshal Tallard), Montmorency
(nephew of the Duke of Luxemburg), and many other persons of rank.

Villeroi had fled to Brussels, but Marlborough was soon at the gates;
the French general took his departure, and Marlborough entered that
city in triumph, amid the acclamations of the people. The whole of
the Spanish Netherlands was recovered by the battle of Ramillies;
Louvain, Mechlin, Brussels, Antwerp, Ghent, Bruges, threw open their
gates. Ostend, Menin, Dendermonde, and Ath, made some resistance, but
successively surrendered and acknowledged King Charles. The delighted
Emperor and King Charles offered to make Marlborough Governor of
Flanders, which he willingly accepted, but was compelled to relinquish
the honour by the indomitable jealousy of the Dutch. At the beginning
of November Marlborough sent his army into winter quarters--the
English at Ghent, the Danes at Bruges, and the Germans along the River
Demer--and betook himself to the Hague, to hold consultations on the
plan of the next campaign, and to receive proposals from Louis, which,
however, ended in nothing.

On the heels of Ramillies came the tidings of a still less expected
defeat in Savoy. The Duke de Vendôme was recalled from Piedmont after
the defeat of Ramillies to supersede Villeroi, and the Duke of Orleans,
under the direction of Marshal de Marsin, was sent to Piedmont, with
orders to besiege Turin. This siege was carried on through the summer;
and when the Duke of Savoy had refused all offers of accommodation
made by France, the Duke de Feuillade, having completed his lines of
circumvallation, made the last offer of courtesy to the impassive
Duke of Savoy. Eugene was beyond the Adige, and knew the formidable
obstacles in his path; but at the call of the distressed duke he forced
his way in the face of every opposition, crossed river after river,
threaded his way between the lines, and at length formed a junction
with the Duke of Savoy. After this union they advanced undauntedly on
Turin, and reached its vicinity on the 13th of August. They crossed
the Po between Montcalier and Cavignan, and on the 5th of September
captured a convoy of eight hundred loaded mules. They then crossed the
Doria, and encamped with their right wing on that river, and their
left on the Stura. The entrenchments of the foe had the convent of
the Capuchins, called Notre Dame, in their centre opposite. The Duke
of Orleans proposed to march out of their entrenchments and attack
the army of Savoy, but Marsin showed him an order from the Court
of Versailles forbidding so much hazard. The Prince did not leave
them long to deliberate, but attacked them in their entrenchments,
he himself leading up the left wing, and the duke the centre. After
some hard fighting both commanders forced the entrenchments, and
drove the French in precipitation over the Po. The Savoyards had
about three thousand men killed and wounded. Prince Eugene pursued
the Duke of Orleans and the Duke de Feuillade to the very borders of
Dauphiné. Unbroken gloom now hung over Versailles. Louis affected to
bear his reverses with indifference; but the violent restraint he put
upon himself so much endangered his health that his physicians were
compelled frequently to bleed him. The only gleams of comfort which
broke through the ominous silence of the gay Court of France were
afforded by an advantage gained by the Count de Medavi-Grancey over
the Prince of Hesse-Cassel in the neighbourhood of Castiglione, and
the forcing him to the Adige, with a loss of two thousand men. Besides
this, the mismanagement of King Charles in Spain, which prevented the
success of the Earl of Peterborough, was calculated in some degree to
solace the confounded French.

King Philip had made a great effort to recover the city of Barcelona.
Early in the spring he appeared before that city with a considerable
army of French and Spaniards, and invested it. He was supported by
a fleet under the Count de Toulouse, and succeeded in re-taking the
castle of Montjuich; and King Charles, who was cooped up in the town,
sent urgent despatches to Lord Peterborough at Valencia to come to his
assistance. Peterborough immediately marched to his relief with two
thousand men, but found Philip's besieging army too numerous to engage
with. On the 8th of May, however, Sir John Leake, who had sailed from
Lisbon with thirty ships of the line, showed himself in the bay, and
the Count de Toulouse sailed away for Toulon without attempting to
strike a blow; and Philip no sooner saw himself abandoned by the French
fleet, and in danger of an attack from both land and sea, than he made
as hasty a retreat, leaving his tents with the sick and wounded behind
him.

Philip had recalled to his service the Duke of Berwick, who had only
been dismissed because he was no favourite with the queen, and he was
posted on the Portuguese frontiers. But, notwithstanding this, the Earl
of Galway crossed these frontiers with an army of twenty thousand men,
took Alcantara, and made prisoners of the garrison, numbering four
thousand men. He then advanced on Madrid, Lord Peterborough engaging
to meet him, with King Charles, at the capital. At his approach Philip
fled with his queen to Burgos, carrying with him all the valuables
he could convey, and destroying what he could not take. About the
end of June the Earl of Galway entered Madrid without resistance;
and had the Earl of Peterborough, with the king, met him, according
to agreement, the war would have been at an end. But Peterborough,
who, had he been at liberty to act as he pleased, would have soon
been in Madrid, was sorely hampered by the king. Charles had reached
Saragossa, and been acknowledged sovereign of Aragon and Valencia; but
he was afraid of advancing towards the capital, lest they should be
cut off by the enemy. In vain did Peterborough urge and entreat, and
show the necessity of despatch to meet Galway. The wretched monarch
had made his chief councillor the Prince of Lichtenstein, who had
none of the brilliant dashing qualities of Peterborough, and against
that dead German weight Peterborough strove in vain. The timid stupid
king was immovable, till Galway--finding that he was unsupported in
Madrid, and that the Spaniards looked with indignation on an army of
Portuguese with a heretic general in possession of their capital--took
his departure. Meanwhile King Philip and the Duke of Berwick had
met, and, on the frontier, had received fresh reinforcements from
France. They therefore returned and availed themselves of Galway's
unfortunate position to recover the capital. Galway evacuated the
place on their approach without a blow, and retreated towards Aragon
to form a junction with Peterborough and the king. On the 6th of
August Charles and Peterborough came up with Galway at Guadalaxara;
but, notwithstanding this increase of force, nothing could persuade
the dastard Austrian prince to advance. Peterborough, who had all the
fiery temperament of a hero of romance, instead of the patience of
Marlborough, which had so often triumphed over German pride and Dutch
phlegm, lost all patience and gave up the enterprise. He returned to
the coast of the Mediterranean, and with him went all chance of Charles
of Austria securing the Spanish throne. Peterborough set sail with a
squadron to endeavour to aid the Duke of Savoy, the victory of Eugene
not yet having occurred.

When Peterborough was gone, nothing but distraction raged in the camp
of the confederates. Lord Galway could assert no supreme command
against the Prince of Lichtenstein and the Portuguese general; every
one was at variance with his fellow-officer, and all were disgusted
with the Austrian counsellors of Charles, and with his inert and
hopeless character. The Duke of Berwick, availing himself of their
divisions, marched down upon them, and they made a hasty retreat
towards Valencia and the mountains of New Castile. After incredible
sufferings they reached Requena, the last town of New Castile, where,
considering themselves secure, from the nature of the country, they
went into winter quarters at the end of September, and Charles and
his attendants proceeded to Valencia, where he wrote to the Duke
of Marlborough, recounting his misfortunes--the result of his own
incapacity--and vehemently entreating for fresh forces and supplies
from England and Holland. Could a large army have been sent under the
Earl of Peterborough, with authority for his undisputed command, there
is no doubt but that he would very speedily have cleared Spain of the
French; but against this was supposed to operate the influence of
Marlborough himself, who did not wish to see another English general
raised to a rivalry of glory with him.

The victory of Prince Eugene rendering the presence of the Earl of
Peterborough unnecessary in Piedmont, he made a second voyage to
Genoa, to induce that republic to lend King Charles and his Allies
money for his establishment. The English fleet in the Mediterranean
continued sailing from place to place with six or eight thousand men
on board, seeking some occasion to annoy the coast of France, whilst
these men might have been of the utmost service in Spain if commanded
by Peterborough. As it was, half of them are said to have perished in
this objectless cruise; and another squadron under the Earl of Rivers,
sent to join Lord Galway at the siege of Alicante, suffered as much.
In short, no campaign ever appears to have combined more mismanagement
than this in Spain, including the movements of the fleet to support it.

But whilst these various fortunes of war were taking place on the
Continent, a victory greater than that of Ramillies or of Turin was
achieved at home. This was the accomplishment of the Union of the two
kingdoms of Scotland and England, and with it the extinction of those
heartburnings and embarrassments which were continually arising out
of the jealousies of Scotland of the overbearing power of England. In
the last Session nothing appeared farther off; nay, a Bill--the Bill
of Security--had passed, which threatened to erect again two thrones
in the island, with all the rivalries and bloodshed of former years.
The provisions of this Bill, which practically excluded the House of
Hanover from the throne of Scotland, were much resented in England, and
the two nations seemed to be on the brink of war. The Commissioners,
however, appointed by England and Scotland to decide the terms of
this agreement, met on the 16th of April in the council-chamber of
the Cockpit, near Whitehall, and continued their labours till the
22nd of July, when they had agreed upon the conditions, and on that
day mutually signed them. In discussing the proposed plans of this
Union, the Scots were found to incline to a federal Union, like that
of Holland; but the English were resolved that, if made at all, the
Union of the two kingdoms should be complete--a perfect incorporation
of Scotland, so that there should be for ever an end of the troubles
and annoyances of the Scottish Parliament. The last reign, and the
present, had shown too clearly the inconveniences of that Parliament,
the means it gave to disaffected men--and especially to such as were
disappointed of their ambitious aims by the Government--of fanning up
feuds and stopping the business of the country; nay, of threatening,
as of late, to establish again their own independent state, and their
own king. Therefore the English Commissioners would listen to nothing
but a thorough amalgamation. The Lord Keeper proposed that the two
kingdoms should for ever be united into one realm by the name of Great
Britain; that this realm should be represented by one and the same
Parliament; and that the succession to the Crown should be such as was
already determined by the Act of Parliament passed in the late reign,
called "An Act for the Further Limitation of the Crown and the Better
Securing the Rights and Liberties of the Subject." The Scots, whilst
seeming to comply with this proposal, endeavoured to introduce various
clauses about the rights and privileges of the people of Scotland in
England, and of the English in Scotland, and that the Crown should be
established in the same persons as those mentioned in the Act referred
to; but the Lord Keeper declined to enter into any consideration of any
proposals, but simply for a full and complete Union of the two kingdoms
into one, with the same universal rights, declaring that nothing but
such solidification would effect perfect and lasting harmony. The Scots
gave way, and the terms agreed upon were mutually signed on the 22nd of
July, 1706.

[Illustration: GREAT SEAL OF ANNE.]

The conditions of this famous treaty were--That the succession to
the throne of Great Britain should be vested in the Princess Sophia
and her heirs, according to the Act passed by the English Parliament
for that purpose; that there should be but one Parliament for the
whole kingdom; that all the subjects should enjoy the same rights and
privileges; that they should have the same allowances, encouragements,
and drawbacks, and lie under the same regulations and restrictions as
to trade and commerce; that Scotland should not be charged with the
temporary duties on certain commodities; that the sum of three hundred
and ninety-eight thousand one hundred and three pounds should be
granted to the Scots as an equivalent for such parts of the customs and
excise charged upon that kingdom in consequence of the Union as would
be applicable to the payment of the debts of England, according to the
proportions which the customs and excise of Scotland bore to those
of England; that as the revenues of Scotland should increase, a fair
equivalent should be allowed for such proportion of the said increase
as should be applicable to payment of the debts of England; that
the sums to be thus paid should be employed in reducing the coin of
Scotland to the standard and value of the English coin, in paying off
the capital, stock, and interest due to the proprietors of the African
Company, which should be immediately dissolved, in discharging all the
public debts of the kingdom of Scotland, in promoting and encouraging
manufactures and fisheries under the direction of Commissioners to be
appointed by her Majesty, and accountable to the Parliament of Great
Britain; that the laws relating to public right, policy, and civil
government, should be alike throughout the whole kingdom; that no
alteration should be made in laws which concerned private right, except
for the evident benefit of the people of Scotland; that the Court of
Session and all other courts of judicature in Scotland should remain
as constituted, with all authority and privileges as before the Union,
subject only to the power of the Parliament of the United Kingdom;
that all heritable offices, superiorities, heritable jurisdictions,
offices for life, and jurisdictions for life, should remain the same as
rights and properties as then enjoyed by the laws of Scotland; that the
rights and privileges of the royal boroughs in Scotland were to remain
unaltered; that Scotland should be represented in Parliament by sixteen
peers and forty-five commoners, to be elected in a manner to be settled
by the present Parliament of Scotland; that all peers of Scotland and
the successors to their honours and dignities should, from and after
the Union, take rank and precedency next and immediately after the
English peers of the like orders and degrees at the time of the Union,
and before all English peers of the like orders and degrees as should
be created after the Union; that they should be tried as peers of Great
Britain, and enjoy all privileges of peers of England, except that of
sitting in the House of Lords and the privileges depending thereon, and
particularly the right of sitting upon the trials of peers; that the
crown, sceptre, and sword of State, the records of Parliament, and all
other records, rolls, and registers whatsoever, should still remain as
they were in Scotland; that all laws and statutes in either kingdom
inconsistent with these terms of Union should cease and be declared
void by the Parliaments of the two kingdoms.

[Illustration: THE PEOPLE OF EDINBURGH ESCORTING THE DUKE OF HAMILTON
TO HOLYROOD PALACE. (_See p._ 571.)]

But though the Articles of the Union had received the sanction of
the Commissioners, they had yet to receive that of the Scottish and
English Parliaments, and no sooner did the matter come before the
Scottish one than a storm broke out in Scotland against the Union,
which convulsed the whole country, and threatened to annihilate the
measure. The Jacobites and discontented, because unemployed, nobles set
to work in every direction to operate on the national pride, telling
the people they would be reduced to insignificance and to slavery to
the proud and overbearing English, and arousing the _odium theologicum_
by representing that no sooner would the Union be complete than the
English hierarchy would, through the English Parliament, put down the
Presbyterian religion and set up Episcopacy again, and that the small
minority of Scottish members in each House would be unable to prevent
it.

On the 3rd of October the Duke of Queensberry, as Lord Commissioner
for the queen, opened the last Session of the Scottish Parliament.
Queensberry, who with the Earl of Stair, had been on the Commission,
and had laboured hard to bring it to a satisfactory issue, now laid the
Treaty before the Parliament, expressing his conviction that the queen
would have it carried out with the utmost impartiality and care for
the rights of all her subjects. He read a letter from Anne, assuring
them that the only way to secure their present and future happiness,
and to disappoint the designs of their enemies and her Majesty's, who
would do all in their power to prevent or delay the Union, was to
adopt it with as little delay as possible. The Commissioner then said,
to appease any fears on account of the Kirk, that not only were the
laws already in existence for its security maintained, but that he was
empowered to consent to anything which they should think necessary
for that object. He then read the Treaty, and it was ordered to be
printed, and put into the hands of all the members of Parliament. No
sooner were the printed copies in the hands of the public than the
tempest broke. The Dukes of Athol and of Hamilton, the Lords Annandale
and Belhaven, and other Jacobites, represented that the project was
most injurious and disgraceful to Scotland; that it had at one blow
destroyed the independence and dignity of the kingdom, which for two
thousand years had defended her liberties against all the armies and
intrigues of England; that now it was delivered over by these traitors,
the Commissioners, bound hand and foot, to the English; that the few
members who were to represent Scotland in the English Parliament would
be just so many slaves or machines, and have no influence whatever;
that all Scotland did, by this arrangement, but send one more member
to the House of Commons than Cornwall, a single county of England; and
that the Scots must expect to see their sacred Kirk again ridden over
rough-shod by the English troopers, and the priests of Baal installed
in their pulpits.

Defoe, who had the curiosity to go to Scotland and watch the
circumstances attending the adoption of this great measure, has left
us a very lively account of the fury to which the people were worked
up by these representations. Mobs paraded the streets of Edinburgh,
crying that they "were Scotsmen, and would be Scotsmen still." They
hooted, hissed, and pursued all whom they knew to be friendly to the
Treaty, and there was little safety for them in the streets. "Parties,"
he says, "whose interests and principles differed as much as light
and darkness, who were contrary in opinion, and as far asunder in
everything as the poles, seemed to draw together here. It was the most
monstrous sight in the world to see the Jacobite and the Presbyterian,
the persecuting prelatic Nonjuror and the Cameronian, the Papist and
the Reformed Protestant, parley together, join interests, and concert
measures together; to see the Jacobites at Glasgow huzzahing the mob,
and encouraging them to have a care of the Church; the high-flying
Episcopal Dissenter crying out the overture was not a sufficient
security for the Kirk."

From the 3rd of October, when the Parliament opened, to the 1st of
November, the fury of the people continued to increase, and the utmost
was done to rouse the old Cameronian spirit in the West of Scotland by
alarming rumours of the intention of England to restore Episcopacy by
force. The whole country was in a flame. Under such circumstances the
Articles of the Treaty had to be discussed in the Scottish Parliament.
The opponents did not venture to denounce any Union at all, but
they insisted that it ought only to be a federal one, by which they
contended Scotland would still, whilst co-operating with England in
everything necessary for the good of the realm at large, maintain her
ancient dignity, retain her Parliament, her constitution, and ancient
sovereignty. When they found themselves in a minority even on this
point they contended that it was not in the power of Parliament to
settle so momentous a question; that the Session ought to be adjourned
for a short time, in order that members might go down to their
constituents, and thus learn what was really the mind of the nation.
Failing in this, they exerted themselves to get a host of petitions
sent up from the boroughs, claiming to have a right on the part of the
constituents to instruct and limit their representatives, and warning
them, above all things, to go no further than a federal Union.

In order to lead to a popular demonstration, the opponents moved that
there should be a day set apart for public prayer and fast, therein
seeking the will of God as to the Union. The Parliament did not oppose
this, and the 18th of October was settled for this purpose; but it
passed off very well both in town and country, and the incendiaries
were disappointed. Another mode of overawing the Parliament was then
resorted to. Rumours were set afloat that the people would turn out all
together, and come to the Parliament House and cry, "No Union!" They
would seize on the regalia, and carry them to the castle for safety.
And in fact a great mob followed the Duke of Hamilton, who was carried
to and from the House in a chair, owing to some temporary lameness;
but the Guards stopped them at the gates of Holyrood, whereupon they
declared that they would return the next day a thousand times stronger,
and pull the traitors out of their Houses, and so put an end to the
Union in their own way. And the next day, the 23rd of October, they did
assemble in dense crowds, filling the Parliament Close, and crowding
the door, so that members had much difficulty in getting out at the
close of the sitting. As soon as the Duke of Hamilton entered his
chair, they raised loud hurrahs, and followed his chair in a body. But
the alarm was given, a troop of soldiers appeared, cleared the street,
and seized half a dozen of the ringleaders. More soldiers were obliged
to be called out, and a rumour being abroad that a thousand seamen were
coming up from Leith to join the rioters, the City Guard was marched
into the Parliament Close, and took possession of all the avenues. A
battalion of Guards was also stationed at the palace, the garrison in
the castle was kept in readiness for action, and a troop of dragoons
accompanied the Ministers wherever they went.

Defeated in their object of overawing the Parliament, the opposition
now cried mightily that the Parliament was overawed by soldiers,
and that the Treaty was being rammed down the throat of the public
by bayonets; that this was the beginning of that slavery to which
the country was about to be reduced. But Queensberry and his friends
replied that there was much greater danger of coercion from an ignorant
and violent mob than from the orderly soldiery, who made no attempt
whatever to influence the deliberations. Every Article indeed was
resisted _seriatim_. Hamilton, Athol, Fletcher of Saltoun, Belhaven,
were vehement and persevering in their opposition; but still, with
some modifications, the Articles were carried one after another. In
the midst of the contention Hamilton was confounded by receiving a
letter from Lord Middleton, at the Court of St. Germains, desiring,
in the name of the Pretender, that the opposition to the Union should
cease; for that his Grace (the Pretender) had it much at heart to give
his sister this proof of his ready compliance with her wishes, nothing
doubting but that he should one day have it in his power to restore
Scotland to its ancient weight and independence. Hamilton was desired
to keep this matter, however, a profound secret, as the knowledge of
it at this time might greatly prejudice the cause and the interests of
his master both in Scotland and England. Hamilton was thus thoroughly
paralysed in his opposition, and at the same time was in the awkward
position of not being able to explain his sudden subsidence into
inaction.

On the other hand, the English Government saw the advantage of
distributing a liberal sum of money amongst the patriots of Scotland;
and the grossest bribery and corruption were unblushingly resorted to.
Twenty thousand pounds were sent down for this purpose, and the passage
of the Union aided by a still more profuse distribution of promises of
places, honours, and of compensation to those who had been sufferers
in the Darien scheme. By these means the opposition was sufficiently
soothed down to enable the Ministers to carry the Treaty by a majority
of one hundred and ten. An Act was prepared for regulating the election
of the sixteen peers and forty-five commoners to represent Scotland
in the British Parliament; and on the 25th of the following March,
1707, the Scottish Parliament suspended its sittings. Amongst those
who contributed mainly to the carrying of this great measure, and
that against an opposition which at one time appeared likely to sweep
everything before it, were the Dukes of Queensberry and Argyll, the
Earls of Montrose, Seafield, and Stair, assisted by the Earls of
Roxburgh and Marchmont, who had come over from the opposite party
through promises of favour and distinction.

[Illustration: COSTUMES OF THE REIGN OF ANNE.]

So ended the year 1706; and the English Parliament was informed by the
queen, on the 28th of January, 1707, that the Articles of the Treaty,
with some alterations and additions, were agreed upon by the Scottish
Parliament, and should now be laid before them. She said, "You have now
an opportunity before you of putting the last hand to a happy Union
of the two kingdoms, which, I hope, will be a lasting blessing to the
whole island, a great addition to its wealth and power, and a firm
security to the Protestant religion. The advantages which will accrue
to us all from a Union are so apparent that I will add no more but
that I will look upon it as a particular happiness if this great work,
which has been so often attempted without success, can be brought to
perfection in my reign."

But the Tories did not mean to let it pass without a sharp attack. They
saw the immense accession of strength which the Whigs, the authors
of the measure under King William, would obtain from it. Seymour and
others denounced it, not merely with vehemence, but with indecency. The
High Churchmen took particular offence at Presbytery being established
in Scotland, and insisted much on the contradiction of maintaining one
religion in Scotland and another in England, and the scandal of the
queen, who was a Churchwoman, being sworn to maintain Presbyterianism
in opposition to it. The Lords Grey, North, Stowell, Rochester, Howard,
Leigh, and Guildford, protested against the low rate of the land-tax
charged in Scotland, complaining, with great reason, that it was fixed
at only forty-eight thousand pounds, which was never to be increased,
however the value of property might rise in that country; and Lord
Nottingham said that it was highly unreasonable that the Scots, who
were by the Treaty let into all the branches of the English trade, and
paid so little towards the expense of the government, should, moreover,
have such a round sum by way of equivalent. The Lords North, Grey,
Guernsey, Granville, Abingdon, and others, supported that view.

But the discussions on the various Articles were cut short by a clever
stratagem adopted by Government in the House of Commons. There, as the
same arguments were being urged, and Sir John Packington was declaring
that this forced incorporation, carried against the Scottish people by
corruption and bribery within doors, by force and violence without,
was like marrying a woman against her consent, Sir Simon Harcourt,
the Solicitor-General, introduced a Bill of ratification, in which he
enumerated the various Articles in the preamble, together with the
Acts made in both Parliaments for the security of the two Churches,
and, in conclusion, wound up with a single clause, by which the whole
was ratified and enacted into a law. The Opposition was thus taken
by surprise. They had not objected to the recital of the Articles,
which was a bare matter of fact; and when they found themselves called
upon to argue merely on the concluding and ratifying clause, they
were thrown out of their concerted plan of action of arguing on each
point in detail, and lost their presence of mind. The Whigs, on the
other hand, pressed the voting on the clause of ratification with
such vehemence that it was carried by a majority of one hundred and
fourteen before the Opposition could recover from their surprise,
occasioned by the novel structure of the Bill. Being then hurried
up to the Lords, the fact that it had passed the Commons seemed to
take the edge off their hostility. The Duke of Buckingham, indeed,
expressed his apprehensions that sixteen Scottish peers, thrown into
a House where there were rarely a hundred peers in attendance, might
have occasionally a very mischievous effect on English interests.
Lord North also proposed a rider, purporting that nothing in the
ratification of the Union should be construed to extend to an
approbation or acknowledgment of Presbyterianism as the true Protestant
religion; but this was rejected by a majority of fifty-five. The Bill
passed, but under protests from Nottingham, Buckingham, and seventeen
other lords.

On the 4th of March Anne gave the Royal Assent to the Bill, and
expressed, as well she might, her satisfaction at the completion of
this great measure, the greatest of her reign or of many reigns. On the
11th of March both Houses waited on her Majesty to congratulate her on
the "conclusion of a work that, after so many fruitless endeavours,
seemed designed by Providence to add new lustre to the glories of her
Majesty's reign." No man had more contributed, by his wise suggestions
and zealous exertions, to the completion of this great national act
than Lord Somers.

As the Act did not come into effect till the 1st of May, numbers of
traders in both kingdoms were on the alert to reap advantages from
it. The English prepared to carry quantities of such commodities into
Scotland as would entitle them to a drawback, intending to bring them
back after the 1st of May; and the Scots, as their duties were much
lower than those of England, intended to import large quantities of
wine, brandy, and similar articles, to sell them into England after
the Union. Some of the Ministers were found to have embarked in these
fraudulent schemes, which so alarmed the English merchants that
they presented a remonstrance to the Commons. The Commons began to
prepare a Bill on the subject, but it was discovered that the previous
resolutions of the House sufficiently provided against these practices;
and, as the 1st of May was now so near, the matter dropped.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE (_continued_).

The great event of the Union of the kingdoms has carried us somewhat
past the course of general events. After the last disastrous campaign
Louis XIV., humbled to a degree that he was hitherto unacquainted
with, employed the Elector of Bavaria to propose a congress to the
Duke of Marlborough and the States-General. He had already presented
a memorial to the Dutch Government through the Marquis D'Alègre, and
he besought the Pope to use his influence to this end. The terms which
Louis offered in the moment of his alarm were such as well merited
the attention of the Allies. He proposed to cede either Spain and the
West Indies to King Charles, or Milan, Naples, and Sicily; to grant
to the Dutch a barrier of fortified towns on the frontiers of the
Spanish Netherlands; and to indemnify the Duke of Savoy for the ravages
committed on his territories. Never since the commencement of the war
had the Allies such an opportunity of closing the war triumphantly.
They could thus balance the powers of France and Austria by dividing
the Spanish monarchy, and give to the Dutch all they asked--a secure
frontier. But the great doubt was whether Louis was in earnest, or
only seeking to gain time during which he might continue to divide
the Allies. And the Allies were by no means eager to accept Louis's
offers. The Dutch were greatly elated by Marlborough's astonishing
victories, and Marlborough himself was in no humour to stop in
the mid-career of his glory. He is said to have induced the Grand
Pensionary Heinsius--who was now as much devoted to him as he had
formerly been to King William--to keep the Dutch high in their demands,
whilst Marlborough induced the English Court to demand indemnity for
the immense sums which England had expended in these wars. In these
circumstances the offers of France were declined on the plea that
England could not enter into any negotiations except in concert with
the Allies. Had the English people known of the offers, there would
have probably been a loud demand for peace; but they were kept secret,
and the attention of the nation being then engrossed by the question of
the Union, the matter was passed over,--not, however, without exciting
fresh resentment against Marlborough amongst the Tory leaders.

During the Session of 1706-1707 the Ministry grew more completely Whig.
Through the influence of Lady Marlborough rather than of the Duke,
who was much averse from the free principles and free language of his
son-in-law the Earl of Sunderland, that nobleman was made one of the
Secretaries of State in the place of Sir Charles Hedges. This change
was equally repugnant to Harley, the other Secretary, who was now the
only Tory Minister left in the Cabinet. The three Tory Commissioners of
the Board of Trade--Prior the poet being one--were removed, and three
Whigs were introduced. Sir James Montague, the brother of the Earl of
Halifax, was made Solicitor-General; and Sir George Rooke and the few
remaining Tory Privy Councillors had their names erased. Harley was
thus left, apparently without support, a Tory in a Cabinet all except
himself Whig. But Harley was that kind of man that he not only managed
to maintain his place, but eventually ruined and scattered the whole
Whig party. He was by no means a man of genius, though he affected
the company of such men. Pope, Swift, Bolingbroke, Arbuthnot, and
Prior, were his friends and associates. His intellect was narrow and
commonplace, but it was persevering; and though he was a wretched and
confused speaker, yet he continually acquired more and more influence
in the House of Commons, and ultimately raised himself to the peerage,
and for many years to the chief direction of the national affairs. The
secret of this was that he had made himself master of the laws and
practices of Parliament, and on all disputed questions could clear up
the point past dispute, so that he came to be regarded as far more
profound than he was.

The Duke of Marlborough, relying on the support of the Whig Cabinet,
which the influence of his contriving wife had created, set out in the
month of April for the Continent. The condition to which his successes
had reduced France was such that the Allies were in the highest
spirits. The French Treasury was exhausted; and, in the absence of
real money, Louis endeavoured to supply the deficiency by mint bills,
in imitation of the Bank of England bills; but they were already
at a discount of fifty-three per cent. The lands lay uncultivated,
manufacturers were at a pause for want of capital, the people were
perishing with famine, and nothing could be more deplorable than the
state of France. Nothing could have saved Louis at this crisis but want
of unity amongst the Allies, and already the artful Louis had contrived
to get in the wedge of disunion. The Emperor, allured by the prospect
of the evacuation of Italy, and of seizing Naples for himself, had
come to a secret understanding with the French king, which was equally
treacherous and suicidal; for the direct result, as any man but the
stolid Emperor would have foreseen, was to liberate the French forces
from the North of Italy to reinforce those in the Netherlands and those
endeavouring to drive his brother Charles from Spain.

Marlborough, on his part, did everything that he could to keep the
Allies together, and to combine them into a victorious strength; but
it had always been his misfortune, as it had been that of William, to
have to suffer from their regard to their own petty jealousies rather
than to the grand object in view. He set out directly from the Hague to
visit Hanover, and stimulate the young Elector to active assistance.
He then set out to pay a visit to Charles XII. of Sweden, who was
encamped at Alt Ranstadt, only a few marches from the Court of Hanover.
The Swedish military madman, neglecting the Czar Peter, who was making
continual inroads on his Finnish and Esthonian territories, and was now
actually laying the foundations of a new capital and seaport on the
shores of the Baltic, had pursued, with blind and inveterate hatred,
Augustus, the Elector of Saxony, who had presumed to allow himself, in
spite of the Swedish king, to be elected King of Poland. Marlborough's
flattery appeared to produce the intended effect. The rough Swede
assured him that he had a great regard for the Queen of England, and
for the objects of the Grand Alliance, and should do nothing contrary
to it; that he detested the domineering spirit of the French, and that
no good need be expected till they were reduced to the condition they
were in at the peace of Westphalia; that he had come into Saxony to
demand certain satisfaction, and that when he had obtained it he should
go away, and not sooner. But notwithstanding Charles's profession, he
continued to harass and alarm the Emperor until he had obtained from
him all that he chose to demand, when he marched away into Poland to
encounter the Czar. Marlborough himself returned by way of the Courts
of Prussia and Hanover to the Hague, giving everywhere the utmost
satisfaction by his arrangements with Charles XII., who had made every
neighbouring Court uneasy lest he might turn his erratic arms against
them.

But the campaign in the Netherlands this year bore no relation to the
great expectations formed of it. No grand action was fought there; and
in Spain the adroit manœuvre of Louis, by which, through his treaty
with the selfish and short-sighted Emperor, he had liberated his troops
from Italy to throw them upon that country, and the want of unity
between Charles and his auxiliaries, quite changed the face of affairs.
The Whigs had studiously left the reinforcements in Spain insufficient,
from the idea that it was better to continue to distract the attention
of Louis in that direction than by a bold and vigorous effort to drive
him from the country. They had a vain idea of conquering France, and
thought this more easy to achieve while the French arms were demanded
in various quarters. But the astute Louis was not so readily dealt
with. He contrived, as we have seen, to amuse the Allies in Flanders
without coming to blows. He coped without difficulty with the Germans
on the Rhine; and, though fiercely attacked at Toulon by the Savoyards,
he defeated the Allies in Spain, to the great astonishment of Europe.

By this time the opinion formed of King Charles when he was in England
by those who had opportunity of observing him, was now become that of
all who had come near him in Spain--that he was a very poor creature.
The Earl of Peterborough, who had been travelling about with little
success to borrow money for such a contest, and had returned to Spain,
but without any command, did not hesitate to say that people were
great fools to fight for such a couple of simpletons as Charles and
Philip. Charles was surrounded by a set of Austrians who were utterly
incapable of commanding, and who made it equally impossible for any one
else to command. The great plan of the campaign was to march boldly
on Madrid; but Charles was, as before, too timid to venture on such a
step. He remained in Catalonia, and ordered the Earl of Galway with
the Dutch and English forces, and Das Minas, with the Portuguese, to
defend the frontiers of Aragon and Valencia; and thus he contrived to
wait for fresh troops from England, or from Italy, where they were no
longer wanted. Whilst Das Minas and Galway, who was only second in
command, were laying siege to Velina, in Valencia, and were in want
of almost everything--food, clothes, and ammunition--they heard that
the Duke of Berwick was hastening, by forced marches, to attack them.
They therefore drew off towards the town of Almanza, and there fell in
with the enemy, who proved to be considerably stronger than themselves.
They came to an engagement, however, on the 14th of April. The battle
began about two in the afternoon, and the whole force of each army was
engaged. The centre of the Allies, consisting of Dutch and English,
fought most valiantly, and repeatedly threw back the forces of the Duke
of Berwick. For six long and bloody hours they maintained the fight;
but the two wings were beaten and dispersed; the Portuguese horse on
the right at the first charge, but the Dutch and English on the left,
only after a brave but unequal resistance. When the gallant centre was
thus exposed on both flanks, they formed themselves into a square, and
retired from the field, fighting doggedly as they went. But at length
their ammunition was spent, they were worn out with fatigue, and they
surrendered, to the extent of thirteen battalions. The Portuguese,
part of the English horse, and the infantry who guarded the baggage,
retreated to Alcira, where the Earl of Galway joined them with about
two thousand five hundred horse, and they escaped. It was a complete
triumph for the French and Spaniards. The Allies lost five thousand
men, besides the wounded and the large force which surrendered.

Nothing now could stop Berwick, who won great reputation by this
decisive action. He marched into Valencia, taking town after town,
whilst Saragossa at the same time surrendered, without a shot, to the
Duke of Orleans. Berwick marched for the Ebro, which he crossed on the
4th of June, and at length pursued and shut up the flying confederates
in Lerida. Charles was too inert or too dastardly to lead his troops
thither, though they lay at no great distance; and the place was taken
by storm, and given up to all the licence of the soldiery. After this
Manilla surrendered so late as the 17th of December, and with that the
campaign closed. The Duke of Orleans returned to Paris, and the Duke of
Berwick remained with the army till towards spring, when Louis sent for
him in haste into France, ordering him to quit Spain unknown to Philip,
lest he should endeavour to detain him. The Earl of Galway and Das
Minas embarked at Barcelona for Lisbon, leaving General Carpenter with
the English forces remaining in Catalonia, the only portion of Spain
now left to the pusillanimous Charles.

The operation, however, which most alarmed the French Court was
that of the Duke of Savoy against Provence. This had been planned
by Marlborough and Prince Eugene, and would undoubtedly have had a
brilliant success had not the Emperor been secretly planning his
attempt on Naples, instead of sending all his forces into Italy to
the support of this enterprise. The Duke of Savoy and Prince Eugene,
though abandoned by this selfish and small-souled Emperor, on whose
account the great Powers of Europe were expending so much life and
wealth, crossed the Alps by the Col de Tende with twenty thousand men,
whilst Sir Cloudesley Shovel appeared on the coast of Provence with the
united fleet of England and Holland to support them. Eugene crossed
the Var on the 10th of July, Sir John Norris and his English sailors
clearing the way for him in their gunboats. But the French were fast
marching towards Toulon from various quarters, Villars having been
despatched with a large force, as we have stated, from the army of
Flanders. The Duke of Savoy, on the other hand, instead of pushing on
to Toulon with all speed, halted his army to rest, and then marched
leisurely forward. By this means, not only had the French been able to
collect a very powerful army, but had had time to strengthen greatly
the fortifications of Toulon. When the practised eye of Prince Eugene
took a survey of the formidable heights of Toulon, and of the great
force on the outworks, with the power of the batteries, he advised
the duke not to attempt the siege of the place with the forces at his
command. The duke, however, would persist, and an assault was made on
the outworks on the hill of St. Catherine, and on two small forts near
the harbour. These were carried, but at a great cost of life, including
that of the gallant Prince of Saxe-Gotha. But fresh French troops
kept pouring in; it was impossible to maintain even this advantage.
On the 15th of August the hill of St. Catherine was recovered by the
French, and the Savoyards were even attacked in their own camp. On
this an order was given to bombard the place, both from sea and land,
in retaliation for the ravages committed by the French on Turin; the
bombardment, especially from the sea, was made with terrible effect.
A great part of the city was demolished, and the English and Dutch
sailors destroyed eight ships of the line in the harbours, and utterly
ruined two batteries. In the night of the 25th of August the army of
Savoy retired; on the 31st it crossed the Var without any pursuit of
the French, and then laid siege to Susa, an old and strong town at the
foot of the Alps, which surrendered after a fortnight's investment.

[Illustration: WRECK OF SIR CLOUDESLEY SHOVEL'S FLEET. (_See p._ 577.)]

Sir Cloudesley Shovel, leaving a squadron with Sir Thomas Dilkes in
the Mediterranean, sailed for England, and on the night of the 22nd of
October, 1707, closed his career in a sudden and melancholy manner.
By some miscalculation his vessels got amongst the rocks of Scilly.
His own ship struck on a rock about eight o'clock at night, and went
down, drowning him and every soul on board. Three other vessels shared
the same fate, only the captain and twenty-four men of one of them
escaping. Sir Cloudesley Shovel had risen from a humble origin in
Suffolk, had raised himself to the head of the maritime service of
his country by his bravery, skill, and integrity. His body, when cast
ashore, was stripped by the wreckers and buried in the sand, but was
afterwards discovered and interred in Westminster Abbey.

Meanwhile disaffection was rife in Scotland, where there had been
for some time a very zealous emissary of the Court of St. Germains,
one Colonel Hooke. Colonel Hooke transmitted to Chamillard, the
Minister of Louis XIV., flaming accounts of this state of things
in Scotland, and represented that never was there so auspicious an
opportunity of introducing the king of England (the Pretender) again
to his ancient throne of Scotland--a circumstance than which nothing
could be more advantageous to France. A civil war created in Great
Britain must completely prevent the English from longer impeding the
affairs of Louis on the Continent. All the power of England would be
needed at home; and on the Elder Pretender succeeding in establishing
himself on the throne of the United Kingdom, France would be for
ever relieved from the harassing antagonism of England--the only
real obstacle to the amplest completion of all France's plans for
Continental dominion. These accounts were very highly coloured, as
from most quarters, particularly from the Duke of Hamilton, Hooke only
met with discouragement. From others, however, Hooke received more
encouragement. He obtained a memorial to Louis XIV., signed by the
Lord High Constable the Earl of Errol, by the Lords Stormont, Panmure,
Kinnaird, and Drummond, and by some men of smaller note. The leading
men did not sign. They were not willing to endanger their necks without
some nearer prospect of invasion. Hooke, indeed, pretended that the
lords who did sign, signed as proxies for many others, such as the
Earls of Caithness, Eglintoun, Aberdeen, and Buchan, Lord Saltoun,
and others. With this memorial Hooke went back to St. Germains, and
what the document wanted in weight he made up by verbal assurances of
the impatience of all Scotland for the arrival of the king. But the
truth appears to be that France expected a stronger demonstration on
the part of Scotland, and Scotland on the part of France, and so the
adventure hung fire. It was not till the following year that sufficient
spirit could be aroused to send out an armament, and not till upwards
of twenty of the Jacobite lords and gentlemen, including the Duke of
Hamilton, in spite of all his caution, had been arrested.

The first Parliament of Great Britain met on the 23rd of October,
1707. The queen, in her speech, endeavoured to make the best of the
last unfortunate summer's military operations. The retreat of the
Imperialist troops on the Rhine was freely admitted, but it was
considered an encouraging circumstance that the command there was now
in the hands of the Elector of Hanover, and it was announced that
measures were taken for strengthening the forces in that quarter.
Little could be said of the proceedings in the Netherlands, and less of
those in Spain, including the fatal battle of Almanza; but the most was
made of the attack upon, and the bombardment of, Toulon. But the speech
promised renewed vigour in every quarter, and called for augmented
supplies. The deficiencies of military and naval action--for we had
also suffered a considerable defeat at sea from the celebrated French
Admiral, Du Guai Trouin, off the Lizard Point, in which two ships of
the line were taken and a third was blown up--an endeavour was made to
cover by allusions to the happy event of the Union. The Commons, in
their Address, seized on this point of congratulation, and declared
it a "mark of the Divine goodness that her Majesty had been made the
glorious instrument of this happy Union, which would so strengthen the
kingdom as to make it a terror to all its enemies." The Lords joined
with the Commons in an affectionate Address to her Majesty, declaring
that the only means of obtaining an honourable peace was the entire
recovery of Spain. To support these assurances by deeds the Commons
voted the enormous sum of six millions for the supplies.

Meanwhile the influence of the Marlboroughs at Court was on the wane,
and that partly through their own shortsightedness. The Duchess of
Marlborough had introduced into the palace, when she was Groom of
the Stole, Mistress of the Robes, and more queen than the queen
herself, a poor relation of her own, one Abigail Hill. Abigail, from
whose position as a bedchamber woman, and from whose singular rise
and fortunes all women of low degree and intriguing character have
derived the name of Abigails, being placed so near the queen, soon
caught her eye, took her fancy, and speedily became prime favourite.
Harley, the Tory Minister, being also her cousin, as was the Duchess
of Marlborough, with equal tact discovered her to be a useful tool for
him. The Duchess of Marlborough, trusting to her long absolute sway
over the mind of Queen Anne, begun when she was a princess; to the
firm establishment of the Whig faction in power, her own work, because
the Tories had opposed the five thousand pounds a year which the queen,
at the instigation of the duchess, demanded for Marlborough before he
had even won the battle of Blenheim; and finally, relying on the great
services which Marlborough had now rendered, had become intolerable
in her tyranny over the queen. The Marlboroughs all this time were
making use, not only of their position to enjoy power, but to scrape
up money with an insatiable and unblushing avarice. The time was now
approaching, however, for the queen's liberation from the heavy yoke of
Sarah Marlborough. The duchess, in the midst of power and pride, had
still for some time felt the ground mysteriously gliding from under her
feet.

She found that Abigail Hill was, in reality, no longer Abigail Hill;
that she had for a whole year been privately married to Mr. Masham,
Groom of the Bedchamber to the Prince of Denmark; and that the queen
herself had honoured this secret marriage by her presence at Dr.
Arbuthnot's lodgings, at which time Anne, the duchess now remembered,
had called for a round sum from the privy purse. In short, the duchess
herself tells us that in less than a week after the inquiries she
discovered that her cousin "was become an absolute favourite."

At this crisis an unlucky incident for the cunning Harley occurred.
He had in his office one William Gregg, a clerk, who was detected in
a treasonable correspondence with Chamillard the French Minister.
He was arrested and thrown into the Old Bailey. The Whigs hoped to
be able to implicate Harley himself in this secret correspondence.
There had just been an attempt to get Lord Godolphin dismissed from
his office, and he, the Duke of Marlborough, Sunderland, and their
party, now seized eagerly on this chance to expel Harley and his acute
coadjutor, St. John, from the Cabinet. Seven lords, including these,
and all Whigs, were deputed to examine Gregg in prison, and are said
to have laboured hard to induce Gregg to accuse Harley; but they were
disappointed. Gregg remained firm, was tried, condemned, and hanged.
Alexander Valiere, John Bara, and Claude Baude, the secretary of the
ambassador to the Duke of Savoy, with that Minister's consent, were
also imprisoned on the charge of carrying Gregg's correspondence to
the governor and commissioners of Calais and Boulogne. On the scaffold
Gregg was said to have delivered a paper to the ordinary, clearing
Harley altogether; but this was not produced till Harley was once more
in the ascendant. The lords deputed to examine Gregg and the smugglers
Bara and Valiere, declared that Gregg had informed them that Harley had
employed these men to carry correspondence, and that all the papers in
the office of Harley lay about so openly that any one might read them.
Both these assertions, and the paper said to have been left by Gregg,
had much that is doubtful about them. The one statement proceeded from
the Whigs, evidently to destroy Harley; the Gregg paper, on the other
hand, not being produced till Harley was out of danger, was quite as
evidently the work of Harley to clear his character. The charges,
however, were sufficient to drive Harley and St. John from office for
the time. When the Council next met, the Duke of Somerset rose, and
pointing to Harley said rudely to the queen that if she suffered that
fellow to treat of affairs in the absence of Marlborough and Godolphin,
he could not serve her. Marlborough and Godolphin continued to absent
themselves from the Council, and the queen was compelled to dismiss
Harley. With him went out St. John, the Secretary of War; and Mr.
Robert Walpole, a young man whose name was destined to fill a large
space of history under the Georges, was put into his place.

Whilst things were on this footing, the nation was alarmed by an
attempt at invasion. Louis XIV. had at length been persuaded that
a diversion in Scotland would have a very advantageous effect by
preventing England from sending so many troops and supplies against
him to the Continent. Early in February, therefore, an emissary was
sent over to Scotland in the person of Charles Fleming, brother of
the Earl of Wigtown. He was to see the leading Jacobites, and assure
them that their king was coming; and that as soon as the French fleet
appeared in sight they were to proclaim the king everywhere, raise the
country, seize arms, and open up again their previous communications
with persons within the different forts and garrisons--thus proving
that they had tampered with the troops and garrisons of Scotland, and
that, as asserted by different historians, the regular troops in that
country, about two thousand five hundred, were not to be trusted by
the English. They were also to seize the equivalent money, which was
still lying in the Castle of Edinburgh. On the earliest intimation of
these designs, the suspected Scottish nobles, including the Duke of
Hamilton and twenty-one others, lords or gentlemen, were secured. The
Habeas Corpus Act was suspended; the Pretender and his abettors were
declared traitors; and all Popish recusants were ordered to remove ten
miles from the cities of London and Westminster. The alarm was not an
empty one. The Pretender, who had now assumed the name of the Chevalier
de St. George, was furnished with a fleet and army, which assembled at
Dunkirk. The fleet, under the command of Admiral Forbin, consisted of
five ships of the line and twenty frigates. It was to carry over five
thousand troops, under the command of General de Gace, afterwards known
as Marshal de Matignon. Before the expedition, however, could sail,
the Chevalier was taken ill of the measles, and the postponement of
the expedition ruined its chances. A powerful fleet under the command
of Admiral Sir George Byng, with squadrons under Sir John Leake and
Lord Dursley, was sent to blockade the port of Dunkirk, and prevent
the sailing of the French expedition. The French were astonished at
the appearance of so large a fleet, imagining that Leake had gone
to Lisbon with his squadron; and Count de Forbin represented to the
French Court the improbability of their being able to sail. A storm,
however, drove the English ships from their station. The French fleet
then ventured out on the 17th of March, but was soon driven back by the
same tempest. On the 19th, however, it again put out, and made for the
coast of Scotland. But Sir George Byng had stretched his ships along
the whole coast, to the very Firth of Forth; and on the French squadron
approaching the Forth, it perceived the English ships there before
it, and stood off again. Byng gave chase and took the _Salisbury_, a
ship of the line, having on board old Lord Griffin, two sons of Lord
Middleton, a French lieutenant-general, various other French and Irish
officers, and five companies of French soldiers. In the night Forbin
altered his course, and thus in the morning was out of the reach of
the English. The Chevalier was impatient that Forbin should proceed
to Inverness, and there land him and the troops; but the wind was so
violent and dead against them that Forbin contended that they would
all be lost if they continued the attempt, and the Chevalier, having
entered the Firth of Forth, reluctantly returned to Dunkirk.

Such was the alarm in London owing to these circumstances that there
was a heavy run on the Bank, increased to the utmost by all who were
disaffected to the Government. The Commons also suspended the Habeas
Corpus Act, and the country was alive with military preparations.

The Allies and France prepared for a vigorous campaign in the
Netherlands. Notwithstanding the low state of Louis XIV.'s funds and a
series of severe disasters which had attended his arms, he put forth
wonderful energies for the maintenance of his designs. He assembled at
least one hundred thousand men in the Netherlands, under the command
of the Duke of Burgundy, the Duke of Vendôme, the Duke of Berwick--who
had been so suddenly called from Spain--Marshal Boufflers, and the
Old Pretender, who sought here to learn martial skill, which he
might employ in attempting to regain his crown. On the other hand,
Marlborough went to the Hague towards the end of March, where he was
met by Prince Eugene, and the plan of the campaign was concerted
between them, the Pensionary Heinsius, and the States-General. Eugene
then returned to Vienna to bring up reinforcements, and Marlborough
proceeded to Flanders to assemble the army, and be in readiness for the
junction of Eugene. Before Eugene and Marlborough parted, however, they
had gone together to Hanover, and persuaded the Elector to be contented
with merely acting on the defensive, so that he might spare a part
of his forces for the projected operations in Flanders. His son, the
Electoral Prince--afterwards George II. of England--took a command of
cavalry in the Imperial army under Marlborough.

[Illustration: SARAH DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH. (_After the Portrait by
Sir Peter Lely._)]

The Duke of Vendôme, on the 25th of May, posted his army at Soignies,
whilst Marlborough was encamped at Billinghen and Halle, only three
leagues distant. The French then moved towards Braine-la-Leuvre, and
Marlborough, supposing that they meant to occupy the banks of the Dyle
and cut him off from Louvain, made a rapid night march, and on the 3rd
of June was at Terbank, Overkirk occupying the suburbs of Louvain.
There, as the Allies were yet far inferior in numbers, they imagined
the French would give them battle; but such were not the French plans.
They had advanced only to Genappe and Braine-la-Leuvre, and now sought
by stratagem to regain the towns they had lost in Flanders. They knew
that the Allies had drawn out all their forces, and that few of these
towns had any competent garrisons. The inhabitants of many of these
places had a leaning to France, from the heavy exactions of the Dutch,
and the popularity of the Elector of Bavaria and the Count de Bergeyck,
who was a warm adherent of the Bourbons. The French, therefore,
resolving to profit by these circumstances, despatched troops to
Ghent, Bruges, and Ypres, and were soon admitted to these places.
They next invested Oudenarde; but Marlborough, being now joined by
Eugene, made a rapid march to that town, and took up a strong position
before it. The French, however, unwilling to come to an engagement,
passed the Scheldt, and attempted to defeat the Allies by attacking
them whilst they were in the act of passing it after them. The Allies,
however, effected their transit, and came to an engagement with the
enemy between the Scheldt and the Lys on the 11th of July. The French
amounted to one hundred thousand, the Allies to little more than
eighty thousand. The latter, however, had this great advantage--that
the commanders of the Allies were united, those of the French were
of contrary views. The Duke of Vendôme was prevented from attacking
the Allies during their passage of the river by the remissness of the
Duke of Burgundy. When it was already three o'clock in the afternoon,
and the Allies were safe over, then Burgundy was eager for an attack,
and the Duke of Vendôme as averse from it, the proper opportunity
having been lost. The wiser general was eventually overruled, and
Major-General Grimaldi was ordered to attack Count Rantzau, who was
posted on a marshy plain near the village of Eyne, with a muddy rivulet
in front of him, with the king's Household Troops. But these troops,
when they saw the nature of the rivulet, would not charge, and filed
off to the right. Rantzau then crossed the rivulet himself, and, whilst
General Cadogan assaulted the village of Eyne, attacked and drove
before him several squadrons of the enemy. In this attack the Electoral
Prince of Hanover greatly distinguished himself by his gallant charge
at the head of Bülow's dragoons. He had his horse killed under him,
and Colonel Laschky killed at his side. Several French regiments were
completely broken, and many officers and standards were taken by the
Hanoverians. The general engagement, however, did not take place till
about five o'clock, when the Duke of Argyll came up with the infantry.
Overkirk and Tilly, who led on the left of the Allies, were the first
to make the French give way, when they were attacked in flank by the
Dutch infantry under the Prince of Orange and Count Oxenstjerna, and
completely routed their right. After that the whole line gave way. In
vain Vendôme exerted himself to check their flight and reform them;
they fled in wild confusion along the road from Oudenarde towards
Ghent, and Vendôme could do nothing but protect their rear. Their
greatest protector, however, was the night, which stopped the pursuit
of the Allies. As soon as it was light the pursuit was resumed; but
this was checked by the French grenadiers, who were posted behind the
hedges that skirted the road, and the French army reached Ghent at
eight in the morning, and encamped on the canal on the other side of
the city at Lovendegen, after one of the most thorough defeats that
they had ever sustained. They lost three thousand men, were deserted by
two thousand more, and had seven thousand taken, besides ten pieces of
cannon, more than a hundred colours and standards, and four thousand
horses. The loss of the Allies was not inconsiderable, amounting to
nearly two thousand men.

After resting a couple of days on the field of battle, a detachment
was sent to level the French lines between Ypres and the Lys; another
to lay the country under contributions as far as Arras, which ravaged
the country and greatly alarmed Paris itself by carrying the war
into France. This alarm was heightened by the Allies next advancing
upon the city of Lille, which was considered the key to Paris and to
half of France. Lille was very strongly defended by batteries and
entrenchments, and by a garrison of twenty-one battalions of the best
troops in France, commanded by Boufflers. This daring act combined
all the skill and chief leaders on each side for the attack or the
defence. The Dukes of Burgundy, Vendôme, and Berwick hastened to
the relief of the place. Marlborough, Eugene, the Prince of Orange,
Augustus, King of Poland, and the Landgrave of Hesse, were engaged in
the siege. All the art and valour on both sides were put forth. The
French endeavoured to cut off the supplies of the Allies coming from
Ostend; but Major-General Webbe, who guarded these supplies with a body
of six thousand men, defeated an attacking party of twenty-two thousand
French under the Count de la Motte, near Wynendale, killing six
thousand of them, and accomplishing one of the most brilliant exploits
of the whole war. After a stubborn and destructive defence Boufflers
capitulated for the town on the 22nd of October, but contrived to hold
the citadel till the 9th of December.

Lille, important as it was, was not won, it is said, without a loss of
at least twelve thousand of the Allies, whilst Boufflers was reckoned
to have lost half his garrison. During the siege Eugene had to hasten
to the rescue of Brussels. After the fall of Lille the Allies reduced
Ghent, Bruges, and all the towns they had lost; and the French, greatly
humiliated, abandoned Flanders, and retired into their own territories,
the French Court being filled with consternation at these terrible
reverses. The Duke of Berwick was highly incensed at the management of
the campaign by Vendôme and Burgundy. He states that during the siege
of Lille Marlborough, through him, made propositions for peace, which
were, however, haughtily rejected by the not yet sufficiently humbled
Louis. Marlborough would probably have been glad to have procured peace
now, that he might watch the critical state of affairs at home, where
Harley and Mrs. Masham were steadily driving their mines beneath the
feet of the Whigs, and where the whole body of Tories were constantly
endeavouring to misrepresent his proceedings in the war, continually
prognosticating defeats from alleged blunders, which, nevertheless,
were as regularly refuted by the most brilliant successes.

The campaign in Catalonia had begun in favour of the French, but
there, too, had ended decidedly in favour of the Allies. There the
Earl of Galway was superseded by General Stanhope, an able and active
officer; and Count Stahremberg, the Imperial general, was a man of
like stamp. But before the Imperial troops had arrived in the English
fleet commanded by Sir John Leake, the Duke of Orleans had besieged
and taken Tortosa and Denia, the garrison of the latter place being
detained prisoners, contrary to the articles of capitulation. No
sooner, however, did Generals Stanhope and Stahremberg get into the
scene of action than they put a stop to the progress of the French,
and maintained the rest of the province intact. They soon, moreover,
planned a striking enterprise. Sir John Leake carried over to Sardinia
a small body of troops under the command of the Marquis D'Alconzel,
assaulted and took Cagliari, and received the submission of the whole
island, which acknowledged King Charles, and sent a very timely supply
of thirty thousand sacks of corn to the army in Catalonia, where it
was extremely needed. General Stanhope then, with the consent of
Count Stahremberg, set sail for Minorca with a few battalions of
Spaniards, Italians, and Portuguese, accompanied by a fine train of
British artillery directed by Brigadier Wade and Colonel Petit. They
landed on the 26th of August at Port Mahon, and invested St. Philip,
its chief fortress. They so disposed their forces that the garrison,
which consisted only of one thousand Spaniards and six hundred French
marines, under Colonel Jonquiere, imagined that there were at least
twenty thousand invaders, and, in consequence, surrendered after some
sharp fighting, in which Brigadier Wade, at the head of a party of
grenadiers, stormed a redoubt with such fury as amazed the garrison. On
the 30th of September not only Port Mahon but the whole island was in
the hands of the English, the garrison of Port Fornelles having also
submitted to the attack of Admirals Leake and Whitaker. The inhabitants
were delighted with the change, King Philip having so heavily oppressed
them and deprived them of their privileges.

On the 28th of October the Prince of Denmark, the husband of the queen,
died at Kensington Palace, in his fifty-fifth year. George of Denmark
was a man not destitute of sense, but of no distinguished ability. He
was a good-natured _bon-vivant_, who was, however, fond of the queen,
who was very much attached to him. They lived together in great harmony
and affection, having no jars or jealousies. They had several children,
who all died early, their son, the Duke of Gloucester, arriving at
the greatest age. Anne was supposed to have a strong conviction that
the death of all her children was a judgment on her for her desertion
of her father and the repudiation of her brother the Prince of Wales,
whom, though she was the first to brand as a supposititious child, she
came to recognise as her own brother.

On the death of the prince his offices were quickly divided amongst
the expectant Whigs. The Earl of Pembroke took his office of Lord High
Admiral, resigning the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland and the Presidency
of the Council. But he soon found the business of the Admiralty too
arduous for him, and it was put into commission, the Chief Commissioner
being Lord Orford, that mercenary Russell whom the Whigs had so long
been endeavouring to restore to that post. The post of Warden of the
Cinque Ports and Constable of Dover Castle was separated from that of
Admiral to accommodate Lord Dorset. Lord Somers was again brought into
the Cabinet as President of the Council. Even the witty and wicked Lord
Wharton was promoted to the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland. As Marlborough
and Godolphin had a great fear and distrust of Wharton, this astonished
many, but was accounted for by those more in the secrets of Court by
Wharton being in possession of an autograph letter of Godolphin's
to the Court of St. Germains, by which that Minister, and probably
Marlborough, too, was greatly in his power.

But though the Whig Junto, as it was called, were now apparently
omnipotent in the Government, that was far from being the case.
Harley and Mrs. Masham had the ear of the queen as much or more than
ever. They were continually closeted with her, and laboured hard to
disconcert all the measures of the Whigs; the fierce and implacable
Duchess of Marlborough, raging with jealousy of the influence of Mrs.
Masham, who had supplanted her, did perhaps still more than Harley
himself, by her impolitic anger and insolence, to render the queen only
the more desirous to be rid of the Marlborough pest. Nothing but the
duke's continued victories made the countenance of the duchess at Court
possible.

Dreadful as was the condition to which the fiendish ambition of Louis
XIV. had reduced Flanders, Spain, the North of Italy, and many parts
of Germany, that of his own country and subjects was still more
deplorable. Trade, agriculture, everything had been shrivelled up by
the perpetual demands of these incessant wars. The wealthy classes were
become as poor as the rest; the middle classes were ruined; the common
people were drained off to the army if men, and sank into beggary if
women, children, or old people. All credit was at an end; the Treasury
of the king was empty; and his chief banker, Bernard, was bankrupt, as
were hundreds of the same class of men. The most violent and spasmodic
exertions had been made to raise the supplies for the armies in the
different fields, and still of late nothing had come but tidings
after tidings of disastrous and murderous defeats. The farmers of the
taxes were out in all parts of France endeavouring to extort those
levies which the ordinary tax-gatherers had demanded and distrained
for in vain. The people of France were under a perpetual visitation
of these officers; and though they were ill prepared to pay once, had
frequently to pay more than once, the same taxes being demanded by
different officers, the regular tax-collector, or the agents of those
to whom they were farmed out. The Ministers themselves, Chamillard,
Pontchartrain, and others of the proud servants of the Grand Monarque,
were compelled to make journeys through the provinces to raise money
for the necessities of the State in any way that could be devised. Such
was the terrible condition of France: the people starving, ruined,
and hopeless, and yet the daily victims of an incessant visitation of
tax-gatherers, who, whilst they failed to procure the necessary sums
for the war, were actively plundering and embezzling on their own
account. Nothing but the immeasurable pride of the haughty but now
defeated king could cause him to hold out; and even this chance seemed
scarcely left him, for the enemy was on the frontiers of France--had,
in fact, already crossed them, and laid the country under contribution
in Picardy, and another campaign might see them in full march on Paris.

The Duke of Marlborough had not, as usual, visited England at the end
of the campaign in 1708, which did not terminate till actual winter.
He continued at the Hague, his enemies said, merely to look after his
own interests; for, by various modes which we have already mentioned,
he was making immense sums by his command. But although we may be quite
satisfied that Marlborough would never neglect his own interests, these
interests equally, or perhaps more pressingly, demanded his presence in
England. Harley and the Tories, he knew, were actively though secretly
engaged in ruining his credit with the queen, and the conduct of his
wife was not of a kind to counteract these efforts. But Marlborough's
interests were inseparably linked to his reputation, and that
reputation now demanded his most vigilant attention at the Hague. He
saw the triumphant position of the Allies, and the miserable condition
of France. It is asserted, therefore, that he and Prince Eugene had
planned boldly to march, on the opening of the next campaign, into
France, and carry the war to the gates of Paris. There is no more doubt
that they could have done this than that the Allies did it in 1814,
and again in 1815. The whole of the wars against France had been too
timidly carried on. With the forces which were at William's command,
the war might have been made offensive instead of defensive, and Louis
have found his own territories subjected to the ravages which he had
committed on those of the States and the German Empire. Now there was
nothing to prevent the victorious arms of Marlborough from penetrating
to the French capital and humbling the troubler of Europe, or to
prevent the Allies from there dictating their own terms of peace.
Nothing, indeed, but the subtle acts of Louis, and the timid policy of
the Dutch.

And already Marlborough was aware that Louis, compelled to open his
eyes to his critical situation, was beginning to tamper with the
Dutch for a separate peace. Some of his own nearest kinsmen, and
especially his grandson the Duke of Burgundy, had spoken very plainly
to Louis. They had asked him whether he meant irretrievably to ruin
France in order to establish his grandson on the throne of Spain.
They had laid fully before him the wasted condition of France, and
the rapidly-growing ascendency of the Allies. The pride of the old
king was forced to stoop, and he consented to sue for peace. He could
not, however, bring himself to seek this of the Allies all together,
but from Holland, whom he hoped by his arts to detach from the
Confederation. He despatched Bouillé, the President of the Council, to
Holland, who met Buys and Vanderdussen, the Pensionaries of Amsterdam
and Gouda, at Woerden, between Leyden and Utrecht, and Bouillé offered
to make terms with the Dutch very advantageous to them. Vanderdussen
and Buys replied that he must first of all put into their hands certain
fortified towns necessary for the security of their frontier. To this
Bouillé would not listen. The Dutch communicated the French proposals
to their Allies, and told the French Minister that they could enter
into no negotiations without them. Prince Eugene hastened from Vienna
to the Hague, and he and Marlborough consulted on the propositions with
Heinsius, Buys, and Vanderdussen; and it was unanimously decided that
they could not be accepted.

It was now near the end of April, and the Allies saw that it would
not do to allow Louis to amuse them with offers which came to
nothing, when they should be marching towards his capital. Whilst,
therefore, Bouillé despatched the news of the rejection of his offers
to Versailles, Marlborough made a hasty journey to England, to take
the opinion of his Government as to the terms of the treaty. The
receipt of Bouillé's despatch at the French Court produced the utmost
consternation. The king was fixed in his proud determination to offer
no ampler terms; his Minister represented that it was impossible to
carry on the war. There was no alternative, and at length Bouillé was
instructed to amuse the Allies with the proposal to repurchase Lille
and to yield up Tournay, till the Marquis de Torcy could arrive to
his assistance. De Torcy, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, set off
for the Hague, not openly as the French Plenipotentiary, but merely
furnished with a courier's passport, and ran many risks of being seized
on the way. At Brussels he had a narrow escape, but he reached the
Hague late at night on the 6th of May. De Torcy now offered much more
enlarged terms. Louis was willing to destroy the fortifications of
Dunkirk at the instance of the Allies; to engage to send the Pretender
out of France, and also not to aid him in any attempt on the throne
of Great Britain, provided that provision was made for his security
and maintenance. He would give up Sicily, but would retain Naples--a
country entirely gone out of his power for more than two years, and
in possession of Austria. He even proposed that Philip should resign
Spain and the Indies; but his allies, the Electors of Bavaria and
Cologne, must be provided for, as they had sacrificed their own
territories in his alliance. The main difficulties appeared to be the
frontier towns of Lille, New Brisac, and Hermingen, in Flanders, De
Torcy contending that the surrender of Ypres, Menin, Condé, and a few
inferior fortresses, would be sufficient for frontier defences. As they
would give up Spain, the only obstacle in the south appeared the demand
on Naples. These terms would have been received with exultation by the
Allies some time ago, but they were now in a different position, and
their demands were proportionate.

[Illustration: LONDON COFFEE-HOUSE IN THE REIGN OF ANNE.]

As De Torcy could not bring the Dutch Ministers to concede anything,
he consented to meet Prince Eugene and Marlborough, who had now
returned from England with Lord Townshend. To these was added Count
Zinzendorf, as Minister for the Emperor. The French Minister, assisted
by Bouillé, though he was treating in a condition of the deepest
anxiety, yet maintained all the high pretensions which his Court had
so long assumed. He offered the surrender of Spain, but he would give
no guarantee for its evacuation. He contended that the word of his
king was enough---as if the word of any king could be accepted in such
a case, and especially of Louis, who had broken his a thousand times.
He pleaded that the king's great age, his earnest desire for peace and
repose in his declining years, and the situation of his affairs, were
of themselves ample guarantees for the fulfilment of that Article of
the treaty; and he even melted into tears in his earnestness to bring
the ambassadors to accept the word of the Grand Monarque. This was all
mere child's play in a treaty which was to be the result of such a war,
and to establish the future peace of Europe. As time was going on,
the representatives of the Allies, at the end of May, presented their
_ultimatum_, in forty Articles, the chief of which were these:--That
Philip should within two months totally evacuate Spain and Sicily,
which with the Indies were to be made over to Charles; that if Philip
refused to evacuate Spain and Sicily, the King of France, so far
from helping him, should assist the Allies to expel him; that Spain
should never, nor any part of it, be united to the crown of France;
that the Dutch should receive, as a barrier to their States, Furnes,
Fort Kenoq, Menin, Saverge, Ypres, Warneton, Comines, Vervick, Lille,
Condé, Tournay, and Maubeuge; that the French should deliver up all the
towns, cities, and fortresses which they had taken in the Netherlands;
that the fortifications of Dunkirk should be destroyed and never again
be restored; that the Pretender should quit France; that the Queen
of England's title and that of the Protestant succession should be
acknowledged; that the interests of the Electors of Bavaria and Cologne
should be settled by the congress which should settle this peace; and
that the Duke of Savoy should receive back everything taken from him,
and should also retain Exilles, Feneshelles, Chaumont, and the valley
of Pragelas. Strasburg and Kehl were to be given up by Louis, but
Alsace itself retained. The new King of Prussia and the new Elector
of Hanover should both be acknowledged, and all these preliminaries
should be adopted and the treaty completed within two months.

De Torcy, who could not expect for a moment that Louis would consent
to any such terms, to gain time, however, engaged to send them to
Versailles. He set off for Paris, but at Douay he saw Marshal Villars,
showed him the conditions of peace, and told him to put his army in
order, for they would never be accepted. Villars replied that he should
be prepared, but that the army was on the point of utter starvation,
and such was the destitution of the country that he had no conception
how the troops were to exist. No sooner did De Torcy reach Paris than
it was announced to the Allies that Louis would never accept such
terms. Bouillé was recalled, and was commissioned by the Allies to
assure the king that no others would be offered; and that, if they were
not accepted by the 15th of June, they should take the field. But the
French king had gained one great object by the negotiation--it enabled
him to represent to his subjects his earnest efforts for peace, and the
arrogant obstinacy of the Allies. He had letters circulated all over
France representing the anxious endeavours he had made to put an end to
bloodshed and to the miseries of Europe; that he had offered to make
unheard-of sacrifices, but to no purpose; everything had been rejected
by the Allies but a fresh carnage and spoliation. He represented that
the more he had conceded, the more they had risen in their demands;
that he found it impossible to satisfy their inordinate demands, except
at the cost of the ruin and the eternal infamy of France.

The effect of this representation was wonderful. The whole of France
was so roused by indignation at the supposed treatment of their king,
the insolent rejection of his peaceful desires, that they execrated
the selfish arrogance of the Allies, for Louis had insinuated that
they were carrying on the war only for their own personal interests.
The kingdom, impoverished and reduced as it was, determined to support
the ill-used monarch with the last remnant of its substance; and such
exertions were made for the continued struggle as astonished the world.
Nor was the effect of Louis's representations lost on Marlborough's
enemies in England. They declaimed on the unreasonableness of the
Allies almost as loudly as the French, and they particularly denounced
the demand that Louis should help to dethrone and expatriate his own
grandson, as the most astounding piece of assumption that had ever
been heard of.

On the 21st of June Marlborough and Prince Eugene crossed the frontiers
of France, and with a force of one hundred and ten thousand men drew
up in a plain near Lille. Marshal Villars, considered now the ablest
general of France, encamped his army on the plain of Sens, between
two impassable morasses, and began to entrench himself. The Allies
reconnoitred his position, but found it too strong to attack him in
it; and as they could not advance towards Paris, leaving such an enemy
behind them, they made a feint of attacking Ypres; and then, suddenly
marching on Tournay in the night of the 27th of June, they presented
themselves before it on the 7th of July. The place was strong, but the
garrison was weak. It consisted of only twelve battalions of infantry
and four squadrons of horse, in very inefficient condition. Villars
endeavoured to throw into the place seven thousand fresh troops, but
he could not effect it. The governor, Lieutenant de Surville, was a
man of great military skill and determination, and he maintained the
siege with such vigour that the Allies were not only detained before
the place for a long and invaluable time, but lost many men. The town
capitulated on the 28th of July, when the Allies were about to carry
it by storm, but the citadel held out till the 3rd of September. The
same day, leaving a detachment under the Earl of Albemarle to level
the defences, the Allies crossed the Scheldt and determined to besiege
Mons. They sent forward a detachment under the Prince of Hesse to
attack the French lines from the Haine to the Sambre, which were
abandoned at his approach. At this juncture Marshal Boufflers arrived
to support Villars, and, though his superior in command, agreed to
serve under him. Marlborough, hearing that Villars had quitted his
camp, and that the French were on the march to attack the Prince of
Hesse and cut off the approaches to Mons, made a rapid movement, which
brought him face to face with the French army, which consisted of one
hundred and twenty thousand men--ten thousand more than the army of the
Allies. Villars and Boufflers were encamped behind the woods of Lanière
and Tasnière, in the neighbourhood of Malplaquet. The Allies encamped
with their right near Sart and Bleron, and the left on the edge of
the wood of Lanière, the headquarters being at Blaregines. On the 9th
of September the outposts of the two armies began to skirmish; but
the French fell back on an encampment near Malplaquet, and spent the
night in fortifying their position. Had the Allies immediately attacked
them the battle would have been less obstinate; but Marlborough was
waiting for the coming up of eighteen battalions, left to rase the
fortifications of Tournay. For the two days that he thus continued
to wait, the French, with unremitting activity, proceeded to cast up
triple entrenchments; and were, in fact, so completely covered with
lines, hedges, entrenchments, cannon, and trees laid across, that the
Dutch field-deputies declared that it would be madness to attack them
in such a situation. But on the 10th, when the expected battalions had
arrived, Marlborough and Eugene determined to give battle.

Early on the morning of the 11th of September they availed themselves
of a thick fog to erect batteries on each wing, and, the day clearing
about eight o'clock, the engagement began. The battle began on the
right by eighty-six battalions, commanded by General Schuylemberg and
the Duke of Argyll, supported by two-and-twenty battalions under Count
Lottum, who broke through the French lines, and fought with such fury
that, notwithstanding their strong barricades, the French in less than
an hour were forced from their entrenchments, and compelled to seek
refuge in the woods of Sart and Tasnière. The contest was far more
desperate on the left, where the Prince of Orange and Baron Fagel, with
six-and-thirty battalions, attacked the right of the enemy, posted
in the woods of Lanière, and covered with three entrenchments. The
Prince of Orange led on the charge with wonderful bravery, having two
horses killed under him, and the greater part of his officers killed
around him. The engagement was now general, and the French continued
to fight with the fury of despair from eight in the morning till three
in the afternoon, when, seeing all their lines forced, their left
being utterly routed, and the centre under Villars giving way, Villars
himself being dangerously wounded, they began to retreat towards
Bavay, under the direction of Boufflers, and retired to a position
between Quesnoy and Valenciennes. The forest of Ardennes served to
protect the French from the pursuit of their enemies, and enabled
them to carry off most of their cannon and standards. About forty
colours and standards, and sixteen pieces of cannon, were taken by the
Allies, with a considerable number of prisoners. But on surveying the
field of battle they found that this was the dearest victory which
they had ever purchased. About twenty thousand of their soldiers lay
slain, and about ten thousand of the enemy. Thirty thousand lives
sacrificed in one battle! Neither Blenheim nor Ramillies could compare
with Malplaquet in monstrosity of carnage. Nor was the impression
produced equal to the destruction. The French, under the able command
of Villars, notwithstanding their defeat, felt rather reassured than
depressed. They had inflicted far more damage than they had received;
and Villars declared that, had he not been so severely wounded, he
would not have left the field without the victory. The French having
retired into Valenciennes, the Allies continued the siege of Mons,
which capitulated on the 23rd of October, and the armies then retired
into winter quarters, after which some resultless negotiations ensued.

[Illustration: FIVE-GUINEA PIECE OF ANNE.]

The Parliament of Great Britain met on the 15th of November, and the
queen, opening it in person, announced in her speech that France
had been endeavouring, by false and hollow artifices, to amuse the
Allies with a prospect of peace, but with the real intent to sow
jealousies amongst them; that the Allies had wisely rejected the
insidious overtures; that our arms had been as successful as in any
former campaign, and had now laid France open to the advance of the
confederate troops; and that if they granted her, as she trusted they
would, liberal supplies, she believed that she would now soon reduce
that exorbitant and oppressive power which had so long threatened the
liberties of Europe. Both Lords and Commons presented addresses fully
approving of the rejection of the king of France's delusive overtures.
They thanked the Duke of Marlborough for his splendid victory at
Malplaquet. The Commons voted six million two hundred thousand pounds
for the services of the year, and established the lottery and other
schemes for raising this heavy sum.

The great topic, however, which engrossed almost the whole attention
this Session, not only of Parliament, but of the whole nation, was not
foreign affairs, not the general war, but a party war at home, which
was carried on with the most extraordinary furor, and put the whole
public into a flame. The ostensible cause of this vehement conflict
was the publication of a couple of sermons by a clergyman, hitherto of
no mark; the real cause was the determination of Harley and the Tories
to damage the Whigs irremediably, and to drive them at once from the
service of the State and the support of the people. They therefore
seized with consummate tact on these sermons, which were, as printed,
stupid though rabid performances; and which, had they not been adroitly
steeped in party spirit--the most inflammable of all spirits--and set
fire to, might soon have slept forgotten in the linings of trunks, or
as wrappers of butter and cheese.

[Illustration: FARTHING OF ANNE.]

[Illustration: TWO-GUINEA PIECE OF ANNE.]

On the 13th of December, 1709, Mr. Dolben, the son of the Archbishop
of York, denounced, in the House of Commons, two sermons preached
and published by Dr. Henry Sacheverell, Rector of St. Saviour's, in
Southwark. The first of these sermons had been preached, on the 15th
of August, at the assizes at Derby, before the Judge and Sheriff. The
second had been preached, on the 5th of November, before the Lord Mayor
and Corporation in St. Paul's Cathedral. In both these sermons he had
made an attack, if not avowedly on the Government, on the principles
on which the Throne and the whole Government were established. He
professed the most entire doctrines of non-resistance and passive
obedience, which, at the same time that they made him appear incapable,
if he had the power, of over-turning any Government, led him to
entirely sap and undermine the Government and title of the queen, by
representing the resistance which had been made to the encroachments
of the Stuarts, and especially to James II., as perfectly impious and
treasonable, contrary to the laws of God and the political institutions
of men. He reprobated the Revolution and all that flowed from it;
and thus, pretending to passive obedience, he was, in the fullest
sense, preaching resistance and a counter-revolution. Whilst crying
non-resistance, he was, as far as in him lay, arming all those who
were hostilely inclined to overturn the throne of Anne, as built only
on rebellion and on maxims subversive of the divine right of kings.
In his second sermon, which he called "Perils of False Brethren," he
preached flamingly against the danger to the Church; danger from the
false and democratic bishops who had been put in by the usurper William
of Orange; danger from the Dissenters, whom he had by law tolerated,
and made powerful in the State and against the true Church. With such a
jubilant avidity was this war-note responded to by High Church clergy,
High Church zealots of all sorts, and the Tories ready to rush to the
assault on any promising occasion, that no less than forty thousand
copies of these sermons are said to have been sold. "Nothing," says Dr.
Johnson, "ever sold like it, except 'The Whole Duty of Man.'"

[Illustration: ROBERT HARLEY, EARL OF OXFORD. (_After the Portrait by
Sir Godfrey Kneller._)]

The motion made by Mr. Dolben in regard to Sacheverell in the House
of Commons was seconded by Sir Peter King, one of the Aldermen of
London, who had listened to the sermon in St. Paul's with astonishment
and indignation. He denounced it as abounding with matter false,
injurious, impious, and tending to sedition and schism in the Church.
This had not been the case with all the City dignitaries on that
occasion. Sir Gilbert Heathcote had indeed been equally astonished at
it, and declared that the preacher ought to be called to account for
it; but the Lord Mayor, Sir Samuel Garrard, had applauded it, and had
allowed it to be published with his sanction. Neither was it the first
of the kind which had been preached in London. One Francis Higgins
had been haranguing on the same topics in the pulpits all over the
metropolis, with the most outrageous declamations on the dangers of the
Church. Sacheverell, however, had brought the fever to a crisis. The
most violent paragraphs were read in the House of Commons, and voted
scandalous and seditious libels. The doctor was summoned to the bar
of the House, and, having acknowledged the authorship of the sermons,
pleaded the encouragement which he had received from the Lord Mayor to
print the one on "The Perils of False Brethren." Sir Samuel Garrard,
who was a member of the House, now repudiated his encouragement, and
the doctor being ordered to withdraw, it was resolved that he should
be impeached of high crimes and misdemeanours at the bar of the Lords,
and Mr. Dolben was ordered to conduct his impeachment. A committee
was appointed to prepare the Articles, and Sacheverell was taken into
custody.

When the impeachment was carried up to the Lords, Sacheverell
petitioned to be admitted to bail, but this was refused. The Commons
committed him to the custody of the Deputy-Usher of the Black Rod, but
the Lords afterwards admitted him to bail. The Articles were carried
up to the Lords on the 13th of January, 1710, and Sacheverell drew
up an answer, in which he wholly denied some of the Articles, and
endeavoured to justify himself in respect to the rest. The Commons
made a reply, and declared themselves ready to prove the charge. A
long delay, however, took place before the day of trial could be
fixed. The queen was more than suspected of being favourable to
Sacheverell, as influenced by Harley, Mrs. Masham, and the Tories.
When the doctor appeared before the Commons, he was attended by Dr.
Lancaster, the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford, and above a hundred of the
most distinguished clergymen of London and other towns, conspicuous
amongst them being several of the queen's own chaplains. From the
moment that Sacheverell was taken into custody by the Commons, the
Church and Tory party had set all their engines to work to raise the
populace. These agents were everywhere, distributing money, treating
the mob to ale, and spreading the most alarming rumours--that the
Puritans, the Presbyterians, and the Dissenters were all combined to
pull down the Church and restore the old republican practices, and
that the prosecution of Sacheverell was a trial of their strength. The
pulpits resounded in all quarters with these alarms, with the intention
of working up the people to a pitch of desperation, and they succeeded.
The mob became furious, and paraded the streets and round the palace,
crying, "God save the Queen and Dr. Sacheverell! Queen and High Church!"

Marlborough took his departure for Holland, and the trial of
Sacheverell was fixed for the 27th of February in Westminster Hall. The
managers for the Commons were the Lords William Paulet and Coningsby,
Sir Thomas Parker, Sir Joseph Jekyl, Sir John Hollis, Sir John Holland,
Sir James Montague, Sir Peter King (Recorder of London), Mr. Robert
Eyre (Solicitor-General), Mr. James Stanhope, Mr. Robert Walpole,
Mr. Spencer Cowper, Mr. John Smith, Mr. John Dolben, and Mr. William
Thompson. The prisoner was defended by Sir Simon Harcourt and Mr.
Constantine Phipps, and was attended by Drs. Smallridge and Atterbury.
The Lord Chancellor Cowper demanded of the Lords whether it was their
pleasure that Dr. Sacheverell should be called before them; and the
answer being in the affirmative, he was placed at the bar, his friends
Atterbury and Smallridge standing at his side. Silence being ordered,
the doctor was asked whether he was ready to take his trial; to which
he answered with great confidence that he was, and should always be
ready to obey the laws of the land. The Articles of Impeachment were
then read. They accused him of having publicly reflected on the late
Revolution; of having suggested that it was brought about by odious and
unjustifiable means; of having defamed the Act of Toleration, and cast
scurrilous reflections on those who advocated religious toleration;
of asserting that the Church was in great peril from her Majesty's
Administration; of maintaining that the civil Constitution of the
country was also in danger; of stigmatising many of the dignitaries
of the Church--some of whom the queen herself had placed in their
posts--as false brethren; and of libelling her Majesty's Ministers,
and especially of branding the Lord High Treasurer with the name of
"Volpone;" and, finally, with having, in discharge of his sacred
office, wickedly wrested and perverted the Holy Scriptures.

These charges were well supported by various members of the Commons,
and amongst them Robert Walpole particularly distinguished himself.
The counsel for the doctor then pleaded in his behalf, and endeavoured
to answer the arguments adduced against him. Sacheverell, however,
was not contented with this; he delivered a defence himself which
has been generally considered to be the work of the high Tory divine
Atterbury, and probably with good reason. In this he dwelt much on
his responsibility as a clergyman, and represented the interests of
all his brethren and of the Church as involved in this attack made
upon them through his person. He expressed the utmost loyalty towards
the queen and the Constitution; denied having called in question the
Revolution, though he had certainly condemned in the strongest terms
the resistance by which it was achieved. He declared himself in favour
of the Protestant succession, and asserted that, as his principle was
that of non-resistance in all cases, he could not by any word or act of
his own endanger the Government as by law established; as if his very
declaration of the principle of non-resistance and passive obedience
did not condemn _in toto_ the Revolution, the means by which the queen
came to the throne, and encourage all those who were seeking to restore
Popery and the Stuarts as the rightful religion and rightful possessors
of the throne, both of which had been, according to his doctrines,
forced from their legitimate place by ungodly and un-Christian
violence; and he concluded by calling on God and His holy angels to
witness that he had never been guilty of the wicked, seditious, or
malicious acts imputed to him in the impeachment.

As the doctor went to and from the Hall, his chair was thronged round
by dense crowds, which attended him to his lodgings in the Temple, or
thence to Westminster Hall. Numbers pressed forward to kiss his hand;
they lifted their hats to him with the utmost reverence. The windows
were crowded by ladies and gentlemen, who cheered him vociferously, and
many flung down presents to him. The doctor returned the salutations
by continual bows and smiles, and seemed wonderfully elated by his
sudden consequence. His chairmen seemed to partake of his glory, and
stepped on as proudly as if they had been carrying the queen. "This
huzzaing," says Defoe, "made the doctor so popular that the ladies
began to talk of falling in love with him; but this was only a prelude
to the High Church affair. An essay was to be made on the mob, and
the huzzaing of the rabble was to be artfully improved." Accordingly
after the trial the next day, February 28th, the mob assembled in
dense masses--sweeps, link-boys, butchers, by a sturdy guard of whom
the doctor was always escorted to and from the Hall--collected in the
City and began to cry "Down with the Dissenters! High Church for ever!"
And they soon put their cries in practice by assaulting the Dissenting
chapels, and sacking their interiors. The Tory writers of the time
pretend that the rioters did this of their own accord, as the mobs had
destroyed the Catholic chapels in 1688; but this was not the case. The
proceedings of the mob were stimulated and directed by gentlemen, who
followed them in hackney coaches, according to Cunningham, who is the
only writer who has furnished us with full details of these outrages.
They then directed their rage against the house of Bishop Burnet, which
stood on the other side of St. John's Square, and attempted to demolish
it. This they must have done under instructions from their disguised
instigators, for Burnet was hated by the High Church and Tory party for
the distinguished part which he had borne in the Revolution, for his
constant attachment to King William and his measures, and especially
for his advocacy of toleration. They vowed they would put the Low
Church Bishop to death if they could catch him; but the respectable
inhabitants vigorously interposed in defence of the Bishop's house and
life, and the mob were compelled to desist.

So long as the rioters were only burning and ruining the Dissenting
chapels, the Court remained most calmly quiescent; but when the
news came that they were beginning to attack "Low Church as by law
established," there was a bustle and a fright at St. James's. This
fright was wonderfully increased when Sunderland rushed into the
presence of the queen and announced that the mob was on the march to
pull down and rifle the Bank of England in honour of "High Church
and Dr. Sacheverell." At this news the queen turned deadly pale, and
trembled. She bade Sunderland send instantly the Horse and Foot Guards
and disperse the rioters. Captain Horsey, the officer on duty at St.
James's, was at once summoned into the royal presence, and Sunderland
delivered to him the queen's order to disperse the mob, but to use
discretion, and not to proceed to extremities. Horsey was one of the
anti-Marlborough faction, and received the command in evident dudgeon.
"Am I to preach to the mob, or am I to fight them?" he asked. "If you
want preaching, please to send some one with me who is a better hand
at holding forth than I am; if you want fighting, it is my trade, and
I will do my best." Sunderland could only repeat the order. Horsey
easily dispersed the rabble, who were more valiant against peaceable
Dissenters than against soldiers. In one or two places they seemed as
though they would make a stand; but on any attempt of the Guards to
charge them they flew like leaves before the wind.

[Illustration: DRINKING TO THE HEALTH OF DR. SACHEVERELL. (_See p._
593.)]

The trial lasted for three weeks, and every day the same crowds
assembled, the same hurraing of Sacheverell, the same appeals to the
queen on behalf of the Church and Dr. Sacheverell were shouted by
the enthusiastic mob. No one scarcely dared to appear abroad without
an artificial oak-leaf in his hat, which was considered the badge of
restored monarchy, and all the time the doctor carried the air of a
conqueror. At length, on the 10th of March, the Lords adjourned to
their own House to consider this point, raised by the counsel for
Sacheverell--whether in prosecutions by impeachments the particular
words supposed to be criminal should be expressly specified in such
impeachments. The question was referred to the judges, who decided that
the particular words ought to be so specified. It was objected that the
judges had decided according to the rules of Westminster Hall, and not
according to the usages of Parliament, and it was resolved to adhere
to the usages of Parliament, lest it should become a practice for the
judges to decide on questions of Parliamentary right and privilege.
On the 16th of March the Lords came to the consideration of their
judgment, and the queen attended _incognita_ to hear the debate, which
was long and earnest. In the end Sacheverell was pronounced guilty by
a majority of seventeen; but four-and-thirty peers entered a protest
against the judgment, and his sentence bore no proportion to the usual
ones in such cases. He was merely suspended from preaching for three
years, and his sermons were condemned to be burnt by the common hangman.

[Illustration: MAKING FRIENDS WITH MRS. MASHAM. (_See p._ 594.)]

This gentle sentence was regarded by the people and the Tories as a
real triumph. It was proof of the decline of the Whig party, and of the
fear of offending the public. The event was celebrated by Sacheverell's
mob-friends by bonfires, and by the inhabitants of London and
Westminster by illuminations. There was plenty of beer supplied to the
populace from some quarter, and every one passing along was compelled
to drink the health of Dr. Sacheverell, the "champion of the Church."
Sacheverell himself went from house to house in a state of triumph
to thank the lords and gentlemen who had taken his side. From some
of these, as the Duke of Argyll, he met with a rebuff; but the great
doctor, with a roaring mob at his heels, was generally flatteringly
received, and he took care to boast that after his sentence it was
clear that the Whigs were down and the Church was saved. The University
of Oxford, which had received a snub from the Lords by their ordering
its famous decree asserting the absolute authority and indefeasible
right of princes, to be burnt with Sacheverell's sermons, was loud in
professed triumph and sympathy with the doctor. The House of Commons
was indignant at the lenity of his treatment, and declared that his
sentence was an actual benefit to him, by exempting him from the duties
of his living, and enabling him to go about fomenting sedition.

The queen prorogued Parliament on the 5th of April, expressing her
concern for the occasion which had occupied so much of the Session.
She declared that no prince could have a more zealous desire for the
welfare of the Church than she had, and that it was mischievous in
wicked and malicious libels to pretend that the Church was in danger;
and she trusted that men would now study to be quiet, and mind their
own business, instead of busying themselves to revive questions of a
very high nature, and which could only be with an ill intention. But
every one knew all the while that Anne was only too pleased at the
demonstrations which had been made through Sacheverell; that they had
damaged the Whigs essentially, and brought the day near when she could
safely send them adrift, and liberate herself for ever from them and
the Marlboroughs. Mrs. Masham now ruled triumphantly, and disposed of
commissions and offices as royally as ever the duchess had done. It was
openly said in the army that fighting was not the road to promotion,
but carrying Mrs. Masham's lapdogs, or putting a heavy purse into the
hand of Mrs. Abigail Earwig. The Duchess of Marlborough did not abate
her exertions to recover favour, but they were in vain; and the great
Marlborough complained in a letter to the queen that all his victories
for her Majesty's honour could not shield him from the malice of a
bedchamber-woman.

Indeed, the display of the queen's bias now became rapid and open.
The Duke of Shrewsbury, who had now joined the Tories, returned from
his long residence at Rome, where he had married an Italian lady, and
had taken the part of Sacheverell in the trial. The queen immediately
dismissed the Marquis of Kent, a staunch Whig, from the office of
Lord Chamberlain, and, much to the grief and consternation of the
Lord Treasurer, Godolphin, bestowed it on Shrewsbury. There was great
alarm among the Whigs, and Walpole recommended the instant and entire
resignation of the whole Cabinet as the only means to intimidate the
queen and her secret advisers; but Harley is said to have persuaded
the rest of the Ministers that the only object was to get rid of
Godolphin, Marlborough, and his son-in-law Sunderland. The rumour of
Sunderland's dismissal became general, and not without foundation.
The queen had an extreme dislike to him, not only because of his
belonging to Marlborough's clique, but on account of his blunt and
outspoken manners. He was perfectly undisguised in his expressions of
dislike for Mrs. Masham, and of his resolve, if possible, to turn her
out of the palace; but, with the queen's devotion to that lady, he
could have taken no surer way of getting himself out. The Duchess of
Marlborough, who could not now obtain access to the queen, yet wrote to
her, imploring her to defer any intention of removing Lord Sunderland
till the duke's return; but the queen forthwith gave Sunderland his
dismissal, and appointed Lord Dartmouth, an actual Jacobite, in his
place. Anne endeavoured to qualify Lord Sunderland's dismissal by
offering him a retiring pension, but he rejected it with disdain;
and such was the fear that the Duke of Marlborough, on this act of
disrespect to him, would throw up the command of the army, that all
the leading Ministers--including Cowper, Somers, Halifax, Devonshire,
Godolphin, and Orford--wrote to him, imploring him to retain his
command, as well for the security of the Whig Government as for his
own glory and the good of the country. The Allies on the Continent
were equally alarmed at this indication of the declining favour of
Marlborough, and France was just as elated at it. But nothing could now
stay the fall of the Whigs. Anne, indeed, ordered Mr. Secretary Boyle
to write to the Allied sovereigns and to the States-General to assure
them that nothing was farther from her thoughts than the removal of
the Duke of Marlborough from his command, and that she still proposed
to conduct her government by the same party. The hollowness of these
assurances was immediately shown by her also dismissing Godolphin from
the Treasury, and appointing Harley Chancellor of the Exchequer. Harley
thereupon proposed to Lord Chancellor Cowper and Walpole to make a
coalition, but they rejected the overture; and as a Tory Cabinet could
not expect to carry on with a Whig House of Commons, a dissolution was
determined upon, and Parliament was dissolved accordingly, and writs
were issued for a new election.

The nomination of the Tory Cabinet immediately followed. Lord
Rochester, the queen's High Church and deep-drinking uncle, was made
President of the Council in place of Somers; the Duke of Buckingham
succeeded the Duke of Devonshire as Lord Steward; St. John succeeded
Mr. Secretary Boyle; Sir Simon Harcourt, as Lord Chancellor, superseded
Lord Cowper; the Duke of Ormonde took the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland
from Lord Wharton; the Duke of Somerset had anticipated these changes
by throwing up his post of Master of the Horse, and the Earl of Orford
was removed from the Admiralty, and that office was put in commission.
In the room of Walpole, George Granville was made Secretary at War.
Here was a clean sweep of all the Whigs, except some subordinate
officials, who clung to office as long as it was permitted. Dr.
Sacheverell had done a mighty work for the Tories, and, having a living
in Wales conferred on him, he made quite a triumphant progress thither
in May, during all the heat and violence of the elections, still
labouring in his vocation of self-glorification, and of damaging the
Whig cause as much as he could, in which he was energetically supported
by his patrons.

On the Continent war and negotiation were going on at the same time
whilst the Sacheverell fever had been raging at home. Early in the
spring Louis XIV., sensible of the miserable condition of his kingdom,
had again made overtures for peace. The Ministers of the two parties
met at first on board a yacht at Maardyk, but the French preferred
the wretched little town of Gertruydenberg for their sojourn, where
they complained of the miserable accommodations they obtained. The
Dutch States-General had sent a pressing request that Marlborough
might be allowed to go to Holland in time to give his advice in these
negotiations, and the two Houses of Parliament seconded this request.
The queen readily consented, though it was suspected the whole was
done at the suggestion of Marlborough himself, to show how essential
his services were deemed by the Allies. Though Marlborough hastened
to the Hague in consequence, he did not in any way appear openly in
the matter, but appeared busy with Prince Eugene in setting early on
foot the campaign. The French ambassadors represented themselves as
being not only most meanly entertained, but as meanly and narrowly
watched--their letters being opened, and their propositions met by
haughty discourtesy. Certainly, if we were to regard the concessions
made by Louis XIV. on this occasion as honestly offered, the Allies
had never a fairer opportunity of closing the war triumphantly, and
were most culpable in refusing them. Louis offered to give up all
Spain, and the Indies, East and West; to acknowledge Charles king of
undivided Spain; to give no support to Philip, but to claim for him
only Sicily and Naples. When it was objected that Naples was already in
the possession of Austria, and could not be given up, the ambassadors
waived the claim of Naples, and contented themselves with Sicily and
Sardinia for Philip. As a security for Philip evacuating Spain, they
offered to give up four cautionary towns in Flanders; to restore
Strasburg and Brisac; to destroy all their fortifications on the Rhine
from Basle to Philippsburg; to level all the fortifications of Dunkirk;
and to surrender to the Dutch Maubeuge, Condé, Furnes, Menin, Ypres,
Tournai, and Lille.

Surely nothing could be more complete. By gaining all these advantages
the Allies gained everything they had been fighting for. They wanted
not only an agreement for the surrender of Spain, but a sufficient
guarantee for it; and this guarantee they demanded in the shape of an
engagement that Louis should help them with actual money and arms
to expel Philip from Spain if he refused to evacuate it, and really
to place Austria in possession of it. This was certainly putting the
sincerity of Louis to sufficient test, and Louis failed under it.
He contended that it would be monstrous and unnatural to take arms
against his own grandson, but that he would contribute money for this
purpose--which, to ordinary intellects, looks quite as monstrous. He
offered, according to his able Prime Minister De Torcy, to pay five
hundred thousand livres a month towards this object, or even to raise
it to a million of money if the Allies would not be satisfied with
less. But as the Allies, in the first place, knew that Louis had not
money to meet the demands of his own Government, and, in the second
place, that Philip had sent an express declaration to the Allies, when
this question was mooted before, that he stood on his rightful claim
through the will of Charles II., the late King of Spain, and would
recognise no pretensions of any party to deal with his patrimony--they
declined the offer, and declared they would be contented with nothing
less than the actual possession of the country. They knew that at the
very time that these negotiations were going on, Philip was making
fresh and strenuous exertions to drive Charles from Spain; that he had
appealed to Louis to send him the Duc de Vendôme to take the command
in that country, with which request Louis promptly complied. They knew
that France had only to close the passes of the Pyrenees, and, under
the pretence of protecting her own frontiers from the armies in Spain,
shut out all attack on Philip, except by sea.

On this rock, therefore, the whole negotiation was wrecked. Louis had
flattered himself that Marlborough, distracted by the state of affairs
in England, would be anxious to make peace, in order that he might be
on the spot to resist the fall of the Whig party at home, and with it
of his influence. But the wiser De Torcy reasoned very differently. He
saw that the party of Marlborough was already ruined, and for him to
return home would be to return to insignificance, mortification, and
insult. His only safety and strength lay in the continuance of the war;
on the chance of reaping new victories, and, therefore, new humiliation
to his enemies. And in this De Torcy was correct. Marlborough did not
appear in the matter. Lord Townshend for England, and Count Zinzendorff
for the Emperor, were consulted by the States-General on all the points
of the treaty; but the Pensionary Heinsius, the devoted friend of
Marlborough and Eugene, kept them _au fait_ on the whole subject, and
influenced the States-General as they dictated. The result was that,
after the negotiations had continued from the 19th of March to the 21st
of July, during which there was a rapid and frequent interchange of
messages with Versailles, the conference broke up.

The campaign had not paused for the issue of the conference. Eugene and
Marlborough left the Hague on the 15th of March, and assembled their
troops, which quartered on the Meuse, at Tournai. The confederate army
amounted to sixty thousand men, with which they invested Douay, and,
Eugene remaining to carry on the siege, Marlborough advanced to Vitry,
where he encamped. Marshal Villars--at the head of an army numerous and
well appointed, considering the distresses of France, and all the more
numerous because men, destitute of the means of livelihood, flocked
to the royal banners--passed the Scheldt and encamped at Bouchain,
declaring that he would engage the Allies; but he thought better of
it. His aim was to embarrass the siege of Douay, in which there was a
strong French garrison, commanded by General Albergotti. The defence
was vigorous, Albergotti making frequent sallies, and altogether the
Allies suffered severely before the town. It was compelled, however,
to capitulate on the 26th of June. Eugene and Marlborough, being
again united, contemplated forcing the lines of the enemy between
Arras and Miramont, but finding them too strong, they resolved to
besiege Béthune, which in spite of the menacing attitude of Marshal
Villars, who marched out of his entrenchments as if going to attack
them, surrendered on the 29th of August. They afterwards took also the
inconsiderable towns of Aire and Verrant, and there the campaign ended.
The armies broke up and retired to winter quarters.

This was a poor result after the grand schemes of storming Boulogne
and marching upon Paris. The fact was, that the anxious condition of
affairs at home completely paralysed Marlborough. He was no longer
the man he had been. His mind was dragged different ways, and was
harassed with anxieties. He could no longer concentrate his attention
on one great plan of warfare, and the consequence was, that his action
was spiritless and indecisive. He seemed to have lost the secret of
success, and met with annoyances which his vigilance and promptitude
had hitherto prevented. On one occasion a great supply of powder and
other stores was intercepted by the enemy, though under the guard of
twelve hundred foot and four hundred and eighty horse. In a word he
was discouraged, divided in his own mind, and the spell of victory, or
rather of high enterprise, was broken.

In other quarters the scene was not more encouraging. Nothing of
consequence was effected on the Rhine, and in Piedmont the Duke of
Savoy, still out of humour with the Emperor, did nothing. The Imperial
forces were commanded by Count Daun, who endeavoured to cross the Alps
and penetrate into Dauphiné, but was effectually kept back by the Duke
of Berwick, who held the mountain passes. In Spain, after a brilliant
commencement of the campaign, everything went to ruin. General
Stanhope, having passed in his Parliamentary character through the
Sacheverell campaign, joined the Imperial general, Count Stahremberg,
in Catalonia, in May. On the 10th of July they encountered the army of
King Philip at Almenara. Stanhope had the charge of the cavalry, killed
with his own hand the commander of Philip's guards, General Amessaga,
and routed the whole body of horse, upon which the infantry retired
precipitately on Lerida. General Stahremberg pursued the flying army to
Saragossa, where King Philip made a stand, but was again defeated, with
a loss of five thousand men, seven thousand taken prisoners, with all
his artillery, and a great number of colours and standards. Charles and
his confederates entered Saragossa in triumph, and Philip continued his
flight to Madrid. Whilst victory was with them, General Stanhope urged
King Charles to push on to Madrid, drive Philip into the Pyrenees, and
secure the pass of Pampeluna, the only one by which Louis could send
reinforcements. But the inert Austrian loitered away a whole month at
Saragossa, and it was not till the middle of September that Stanhope
could induce him to advance. On the 21st of that month Stanhope, still
leading the way, entered Madrid without opposition, Philip and all the
grandees having retreated to Valladolid. On the 28th Charles himself
made his entry into Madrid, but General Stanhope soon perceived that he
had no welcome. The Castilians to a man were for Philip, and did the
army of Charles all the mischief they could, cutting off his supplies,
attacking his outposts, and destroying all the stragglers and foragers
that they could meet with. Stanhope still urged Charles to send on a
detachment to secure Toledo, and to keep open the passage of the Tagus
to facilitate an expected advance of Portuguese troops in his favour.
The Portuguese, however, did not make their appearance; provisions
failed in Madrid, for the peasantry held back the supply, and the
whole army marched to Toledo, where it found itself still worse off.
Philip, meanwhile, had sent in haste to request reinforcements from
Louis under the command of the Duc de Vendôme, and these approaching,
the timid Charles hastened back into Catalonia as the only place of
security.

[Illustration: THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH'S INTERVIEW WITH ANNE. (_See p._
599.)]

Such was continually the fluctuating condition of the war in Spain.
The Spaniards had no inclination to support Charles, and the Allies
only sent troops sufficient to win victories, but not to maintain
them, still less to secure the passes in the Pyrenees and keep back
fresh French armies. It was another of our futile attempts to support
a man who, unless he could support himself, had no business there.
At this juncture the Tories, having risen into power, withheld fresh
reinforcements. They were not hearty in the war, and our small army
there was left to contend with impossibilities. The English and
Imperialists unwillingly following in the track of the king towards
Catalonia, for the sake of better procuring provisions on the route,
had separated and marched at some distance from each other, though
in parallel lines. In this condition they were suddenly overtaken by
Vendôme on the 8th of December, and Stanhope, with his five thousand
men, found himself surrounded by the main army of the French. This
was an instance of want of circumspection which was not anticipated
in General Stanhope after his vigorous and able operations hitherto,
and procured him severe blame. He managed to despatch a messenger to
Stahremberg for help; but his powder was nearly exhausted, and after
courageously defending himself till the next day, he was compelled
to surrender himself in the little town of Brihuega. Stahremberg
was accused of tardy movement for the relief of Stanhope, but he
was probably prevented from coming up by the forces of Vendôme, who
attacked him also on the 10th at Villaviciosa. Vendôme's troops are
said to have doubled in number those of Stahremberg. Stahremberg's left
wing was routed, and great slaughter made of them; but Stahremberg
himself maintained the fight with his right wing till night, when the
French retreated, having suffered equally severely with the troops
of Stahremberg. The Imperial general, however, found himself unable
to pursue the advantage; he ordered all the guns to be spiked, and
retreated as fast as possible into Catalonia. Vendôme pursued him,
took Balaguer on the way, in which he left a garrison, and followed
Stahremberg to the very walls of Barcelona. About the same time the
Duc de Noailles invested Gironne, and took it in the severity of the
winter weather; and thus was Charles, after a few months' campaign,
which began so splendidly, stripped of the whole Spanish monarchy, with
the exception of Catalonia, which was itself greatly exposed and very
inefficiently defended.

At home the new Parliament met on the 25th of November. There was a
strong infusion of Tories sent up, but there was still also a strong
party of Whigs. The Tories, however, carried the Speakership in the
person of Mr. Bromley, in the place of the late Whig Speaker, Onslow;
but the chief managers of the Sacheverell trial had managed to secure
their own return. The queen, on the other hand, showed her prejudice
by knighting Mr. Constantine Phipps, Sacheverell's counsel, and making
him Lord Chancellor of Ireland, and giving other promotions to marked
Tories. In her Speech, Anne declared that she would support the Church
of England, maintain the Constitution, and grant the indulgence allowed
by law to scrupulous consciences. The word was no longer "toleration,"
but "indulgence," the very phrase used by Sacheverell--another proof
of the queen's leaning towards the doctor. And this phrase now became
general in the High Church, the doctrine being that whatever liberty
the Dissenters enjoyed was of indulgence, and not of right. In the
House of Lords the Earl of Scarborough moved the usual vote of thanks
to the Duke of Marlborough, but the Duke of Argyll opposed it; and
the duke's friends let the matter drop, hoping to carry it when the
duke returned. Other signs of the great change which had taken place
in the domestic policy of the nation quickly followed. The Earl of
Peterborough, who had so long suffered from the overwhelming shade of
Marlborough, was appointed Ambassador-Extraordinary to the Imperial
Court. The Earl of Rivers was appointed Ambassador to Hanover; and
Richard Hill, a kinsman of Mrs. Masham, Ambassador-Extraordinary
to the States-General, and also to the Council of State appointed
for the government of the Spanish Netherlands, in the place of
Lieutenant-General Cadogan. Colonels Meredith, Macartney, and
Honeywood, were deprived of their regiments for drinking confusion to
the enemies of the Duke of Marlborough. The Marlborough reign was at an
end.

The Tories being now in power, there was an entire revolution of
opinion and of measures. Everything which had been applauded and
encouraged under the Whigs was now to be decried; everything which had
been kept down was to be set on high. When Marlborough, therefore,
arrived during the Christmas holidays, it was to a most cold reception.
There were no longer popular acclamations, nor Lords and Commons
hurrying to offer him thanks and eulogies for his eminent services.
The public mind had been carefully indoctrinated on this point, and
the great commander landed in a most expressive silence. He waited,
as was his duty, on the queen, was admitted to about half an hours
audience, and the next morning attended a meeting of the Privy Council.
But both in the Presence and the Council Chamber the same ominous and
freezing silence reigned. The queen plainly told him that he was now
no longer to expect the thanks of Parliament as formerly; and she
added that, notwithstanding, she trusted he would act in harmony with
her Ministers. Marlborough showed no outward signs of resentment. He
was anxious still to continue the command of the army, and to put the
finish to his successes by compelling a satisfactory peace from Louis,
now reduced to the most terrible straits.

The duke saw that it was time for the duchess to resign her offices.
The queen had repeatedly insisted to Marlborough that the duchess
should deliver up the gold keys, the token of her offices of Groom of
the Stole and Mistress of the Robes; but that resolute woman refused
to comply. Marlborough, unable to obtain the keys, endeavoured to
mollify the queen's anger at the delay. His appeal, however, did not
decrease the queen's impatience, and Marlborough imperatively demanded
the keys from his wife. For some time she vehemently refused to part
with them, but after a violent and stormy altercation (according
to Cunningham) she finished by flinging them at his head. The duke
snatched them up and hurried to the palace with them, where, says the
same authority, the Queen received them with far greater pleasure than
if he had brought her the spoils of the army; at which, he says, "the
duchess flew about the town in a rage, and with eyes and words full of
vengeance."

There was no doubt that the queen's exultation was great at being at
length liberated from the heavy and imperious yoke of the Marlboroughs.
People who had absented themselves from Court for years, now presented
themselves there to pay their respects, and, amongst them, the Duke
of Beaufort congratulated Anne that he could now salute his queen in
reality. The duchess's places were immediately given to the Duchess
of Somerset and Mrs. Masham. The Tory raid against the Whigs was
pursued with unpausing ardour. An inquiry was set on foot in the
Lords into the conduct of the war in Spain. The Earl of Peterborough's
turn was now come. He was examined before a committee, and imputed
the mismanagement of the war in Spain to Galway and General Stanhope.
Galway made an able defence, but the House, notwithstanding, passed a
resolution that Lord Peterborough had most honourably distinguished
himself by his able counsels and active services in Spain; and that
Galway, Lord Tyrawley, and General Stanhope had been very culpable
in advising an offensive war in Spain, which had caused all our
misfortunes, and especially the battle of Almanza. But in blaming the
generals they blamed also the Ministers who sanctioned the war, and
then so badly supported it. The failure of the attempt on Toulon was
attributed to the same cause. Thanks were voted to Lord Peterborough;
and in rendering them it was not forgotten to make some caustic
criticisms on Marlborough.

To increase the power of the Tory landlords in the House of Commons,
and diminish that of the Whig supporters in the boroughs, an Act was
introduced--and the Commons were weak enough to pass it--making it
necessary that every candidate for Parliament in the counties should
possess six hundred a year in real property, and for a borough seat
three hundred; and this law lasted to our time, when, however, it was
repealed.

But in spite of the triumphant position of the Tories, Harley found his
individual position far from enviable. His caution made him inimical
to the more violent Tories, who were impatient to exercise their power
without restraint; of which his colleague St. John, at once ambitious
and unprincipled, artfully availed himself to undermine the man by
whom he had risen. But an incident occurred to excite a fresh interest
in Harley, and give a new impetus to his power. Amongst the horde of
foreigners--Germans, Italians, French, and Poles--who contrived to
draw English money by acting as spies on their own governments, and
very frequently on the English one too, was the so-called Marquis of
Guiscard. This man had been in receipt of five hundred pounds a year.
He had obtained the salary, it is said, through St. John, being a
devoted companion of that accomplished scoundrel in his dissipations.
Harley doubted the value of his services, and reduced the pension
to four hundred pounds a year; and St. John is also said to have
suffered him to endure the curtailment without much remonstrance,
and then, to avoid Guiscard's importunities, refused to see him.
Guiscard immediately offered his services to the French Government as
a spy on the English Court, through a letter to one Moreau, a banker
of Paris. The letter was intercepted, and Guiscard arrested. On being
brought before the Privy Council he desired to speak in private to St.
John, whom, it is suspected, he intended to assassinate, but St. John
refused his demand. He then exclaimed, "That is hard! not one word!"
and suddenly stepping up to Harley, he cried, "Have at thee, then!"
and stabbed him with his penknife. The knife, striking against the
breastbone, broke near the handle; but the excited foreigner struck
him again with such force that Harley fell to the ground covered with
blood. St. John, seeing Harley fall, exclaimed, "The villain has killed
Mr. Harley!" drew his sword, and ran him through. The whole Council was
up and in confusion. All drew their swords and surrounded the murderous
prisoner. He was wounded in various places, and knocked down by blows
from the hands of others. The doorkeepers and messengers rushed in at
the noise, and Guiscard was dragged to prison. He died in Newgate of
his wounds; and such was the curiosity of the populace to see his body
that the turnkey kept it in pickle, and made a good sum by showing him
for several days.

Harley's wound was not serious, but it served to make a political
hero and martyr of him; Guiscard being represented as a Papist,
and instigated from France to destroy this champion of England and
the Church. On Harley's appearance in the House of Commons he was
congratulated on his happy escape in a most eulogistic speech by the
Speaker; and an Act was passed, making it felony without benefit of
clergy to attempt the life of a Privy Councillor. The Earl of Rochester
dying at this juncture, left Harley entirely at the head of the
Cabinet, and he was immediately raised to the peerage, first as Baron
Wigmore, and then as Earl of Oxford and Mortimer. He was, moreover,
appointed Lord Treasurer, much to his own gratification and glory,
but little to the furtherance of the national business, for he was
naturally inert and indecisive, whilst all around him was a scandalous
scene of corruption, intrigue, and neglect.

Marlborough had set out for Holland in the month of February. He
assembled his army at Orchies, between Lisle and Douay, about the
middle of April, and Marshal Villars encamped between Cambray and
Arras. The duke soon after passed the Scarpe, and took post between
Douay and Bouchain, where he was joined by his faithful comrade-in-arms
Prince Eugene; but that great general was soon compelled to leave
him to repel the French forces which were directed against Germany
on the Upper Rhine. The army of Marshal Villars was a very numerous
one, and he had defended his lines with redoubts and other works so
formidably that he thought he would at last checkmate Marlborough.
These lines extended from Bouchain, on the Scheldt, along the Sanset
and the Scarpe to Arras, and thence along the Upper Scarpe to Cambray.
But Marlborough did not despair of entering them by stratagem, if not
by force. He ordered a great quantity of fascines to be prepared, and
made a pretence of a direct attack on the lines where he was; but he
at the same time secretly despatched Generals Cadogan and Hompesch to
surprise the passage of the Sanset at Arleux. Brigadier Sutton was
also despatched with the artillery and pontoons to lay bridges over
the canals near Goulezen, and over the Scarpe at Vitry. By the time
that these operations could be effected, Marlborough suddenly quitted
his position at nine in the evening, marched the whole of his army
through the night, and by five in the morning had crossed the Scarpe
at Vitry. There, receiving the information that Hompesch had secured
the passes of the Sanset and the Scheldt, Marlborough continued his
march on Arleux; and, after a march of ten leagues without halting,
was encamped on the Scheldt between Estrun and Ois. Thus, by this
unexampled dexterity and exertion, he was completely within the boasted
impregnable lines of Villars. This general, on becoming aware of his
opponent's motions, pursued him with headlong haste, but he arrived too
late to prevent his design; and, whilst the Duke of Marlborough was
extolled as a general of consummate ability, Villars was ridiculed even
by his own officers for suffering himself to be outwitted.

The Dutch deputies this time, so far from retarding the duke's
enterprise, were desirous that he should at once attack Villars; but
he would not hazard a battle whilst his men were fatigued by their
enormous march. He determined, on the contrary, to commence the siege
of Bouchain. The place was remarkably strong, and difficult of access
from its situation in a marsh; yet, by the 10th of August, 1711, he
had compelled it to surrender, the garrison of six thousand becoming
prisoners of war. With this exploit Marlborough closed his brilliant
career. His enemies at home--Oxford, St. John, Dartmouth, and the
Tories in general--had fondly hoped that this campaign he was going to
certain defeat and disgrace; but, in spite of all his disadvantages,
he had placed the Allied armies, by this conquest of Bouchain, on the
highway to Paris. The Allies were in possession of the Meuse, almost
as far as the Sambre; of the Scheldt from Tournai; and of the Lys as
far as it was navigable. They had reduced Spanish Guelderland, Limburg,
Brabant, and Flanders, with the greatest part of Hainault, and were in
a position, by one more vigorous campaign, to carry the war to the very
gates of Louis's capital. Such a triumph, however, the malice of the
Tories had determined that Britain and the world should not witness.
After the capture of Bouchain, the Allied armies went into quarters in
the frontier towns, ready for the campaign of the spring; and in the
middle of November Marlborough returned to England.

[Illustration: THE FRACAS IN THE PRIVY COUNCIL. (_See p._ 600.)]

In Spain, whither the Duke of Argyll had been sent to command the
English forces, nothing had been done, from the want of everything to
carry on the war, and the expedition of Mrs. Masham's brother Jack
Hill to Quebec had met with the fate which might have been expected.
This expedition had been planned by Colonel Nicholson, who had taken
possession of Nova Scotia and garrisoned Port Royal. He had brought
to England four American Indians to excite attention, and represented
the great advantages which would accrue from the conquest of Canada
and the expulsion of the French from that part of the world. The idea
was excellent, and, had it been carried out with ability, might have
anticipated the policy of Lord Chatham and the victory of Wolfe;
but the Ministers were not hearty in the cause. Harley is said to
have been averse from it, and St. John to have advocated it because
he saw that it would gratify Mrs. Masham. In an ill-advised hour,
therefore, the command of this important expedition was confided
to a man against whose total unfitness for command of every sort
Marlborough had earnestly warned them. At Boston, in New England, the
expedition was joined by two regiments of colonists and about four
thousand men, consisting of American planters, Palatines, and Indians,
encamped at Albany, in order to march by land into Canada, whilst the
fleet advanced up the St. Lawrence. The squadron had already entered
the river when, on the 21st of August, it was assailed by a violent
tempest. Eight transports were driven aground and wrecked, and eight
hundred men perished--some by drowning, others by the tomahawks of the
Indians and the muskets of the French colonists. The damage, however,
was of no important extent to a really able commander; but the poor
witless Hill, thrust into responsibility by favouritism, was utterly
confounded. The fleet put back to Spanish River Bay, where a council
was held, and, as the forces were only victualled for six weeks, it was
determined to return home.

But whilst Marlborough had been ably preparing the way in Flanders for
finishing the war in triumph, and compelling the King of France to make
such a peace as should secure the peace of Europe and indemnify England
for all that she had suffered and expended for that object, the Tory
Ministers and the queen had been as busy undermining and rendering
abortive his plans and exertions. They were determined to make peace at
any cost, so that the Whigs should receive nothing but reproaches from
the nation for having led it into so long and bloody a war without any
real results. The Tories were to render the war useless, and the Whigs
to bear the blame of it.

St. John was clearly ready to admit the Pretender instead of the House
of Hanover, and had been in close correspondence with the Court of St.
Germains, and there is every reason to believe that it was with the
cognisance and approval of the queen, who hated the House of Hanover.
But Harley was bent on maintaining the Protestant succession, whilst
he was equally determined on the achievement of a peace damaging to
the Whigs. He knew too well that, however the queen might lean towards
the restoration of her brother, the Pretender, the nation would never
submit to it. He therefore entered into a secret negotiation with
France on another basis to that of St. John.

Nothing is more certain than that the queen was strongly inclined to
admit the claims of her brother, James Stuart, the Old Pretender,
if he could be brought to renounce the Catholic religion, and that
she entered into a correspondence on this head. It is true that she
continued to express doubts of his being really her brother, yet she
every now and then let observations escape her which showed that she
really believed him to be so. It was on the ground of this conviction
that she corresponded with him regarding his succession to the Crown,
and was only compelled to give up his claim because she could not
bring him to abandon his attachment to his religion. Amongst those who
supported the claims of the Pretender were her uncle Rochester and
Marshal Tallard--still prisoner of war at Nottingham, and kept there by
Louis on the understanding that he was more useful there as a secret
negotiator than he would be anywhere else at the head of an army.

After the disgrace of Guiscard the Abbé Gualtier became the agent of
Harley for carrying on the proposals for peace with France. Gualtier
was a man of very infamous life, but he was a more cautious and
diplomatic man than Guiscard. He and Tallard urged on the Pretender's
claims to the last moment. So late as May of the year 1711 the
Pretender addressed a long letter to Queen Anne, which is to be seen in
the Macpherson State Papers, in which, addressing her as his sister,
he appeals to her by the natural affection which he bears her, and
which he protests that their common father bore her till his death, to
see him righted. He reminds her of her promises which she had made to
her father on this head, and argues that, as he never would relinquish
his just claims, the only way to prevent the continual excitement,
disquietude, and wars injurious to the realm, is to admit his claim.
And he concludes thus:--"And now, madam, as you tender your own honour
and happiness, and the preservation and re-establishment of an ancient
royal family, the safety and welfare of a brave people, who are almost
sinking under present weights, and have reason to fear far greater, who
have no reason to complain of me, and whom I must still and do love as
my own, I conjure you to meet me in this friendly way of composing our
differences, by which only we can hope for those good effects which
will make us both happy, yourself more glorious than in all the other
parts of your life, and your memory dear to all posterity."

The Pretender offered to give all liberty to the Church and to the
Dissenters, but he would not abandon his own religion. On reading this
letter the disappointed queen said to the Duke of Buckingham--who had
married her half-sister, James II.'s natural daughter Catherine, by
Catherine Sedley, and who was in her confidence--"How can I serve him,
my lord? You well know that a Papist cannot enjoy this crown in peace.
Why has the example of the father no weight with the son?" Here she
acknowledged that the Pretender was the son of James. But she added,
"He prefers his religious errors to the throne of a great kingdom; he
must thank himself, therefore, for his exclusion." Still she begged
Buckingham to try further to persuade him; it was in vain, and Anne
gave up the hope of his restoration, and turned her whole mind to the
conclusion of a peace including the Protestant succession.

Gualtier was despatched to Versailles secretly, and, to avoid
detection, without any papers, but with full instructions relating
to the proposals for peace. He introduced himself to De Torcy, the
Prime Minister of Louis, and assured him that the English Government
was prepared to enter into negotiations for peace independently of
the Dutch, whom De Torcy had found so immovable. This was delightful
news to the French Minister, who was overwhelmed with the necessities
of France, which were come to that pass that peace on any terms, or
invasion, appeared inevitable. In his own memoirs De Torcy says that
"to ask a French Minister then whether he wished for peace, was like
asking a man suffering under a long and dangerous malady whether
he wished to be better." On being convinced that Gualtier was a
_bonâ-fide_ agent of the English Court, the French Court was thrown
into the most delightful astonishment. Gualtier told De Torcy that it
was not necessary to commit himself by written documents on the matter;
he had only to write a simple note to Lord Jersey, saying that he was
glad to have heard of his lordship's health through the Abbé, and had
charged him with his thanks; that this would give the English Ministers
to understand that their proposition had been favourably entertained,
and that the negotiation would be gone into in earnest.

So far as the English Ministers were concerned, they now rushed on with
that reckless impetuosity of which wily politicians like Louis and De
Torcy were sure to take advantage. Gualtier was authorised to write
to De Torcy in the name of the English Ministry, requesting his most
Christian Majesty to communicate to them the terms on which he would
feel disposed to make a general peace--just as if England, and not
France, were at an extremity, and in a condition not to dictate, but
only to accept of terms. Louis was so general in his answer that it
was necessary for Gualtier to make another journey to Versailles--thus
giving the idea that it was England rather than France which was all
anxiety for a peace. Gualtier returned with certain propositions, but
Marlborough was now driving Villars before him, and was in possession
of Bouchain, and prepared to make himself master of Paris in another
campaign. We were entitled to make the amplest demands, and our Allies
were entitled to know what they were, and to enjoy the benefit of
circumstances. Our Ministers continued to negotiate without the Dutch
and Germans, because they meant to accept terms which they knew their
allies would not condescend to. But the intelligence of our proceedings
soon reached the Hague, and the States-General quickly demanded an
explanation, and at the same time announced again to De Torcy, that
they were prepared to treat in co-operation with England. The English
Ministers were thereupon compelled to communicate the French memorial
to the States-General. Lord Raby, the British ambassador at the Hague,
wrote urging the necessity of keeping faith with the Dutch, who were
greatly incensed at our taking measures for a peace without them, and
apprising them that every letter received from France conveyed the
delight of the French in the prospect of being able to sow discord
amongst the Allies. The States soon informed the Ministers of England
that they were quite prepared to go along with them in the treaty
for peace, but they would insist on the conditions being ample and
satisfactory. In order to convert Lord Raby into a devoted advocate of
a disgraceful and undignified policy, St. John wrote to inform him that
it was her Majesty's pleasure that he should come over to England, in
order to make himself perfect master of the important subjects about to
be discussed. Lord Raby was a Wentworth, nearly allied in descent to
the Earl of Strafford who was beheaded in the time of Charles I., and
he had long been soliciting for himself the renewal of that title. St.
John therefore adroitly announced to him that, on his reaching London,
it was her Majesty's gracious intention to confer that honour upon him.
This intimation at once threw Raby into a fever of gratitude, and he
made the most ardent professions of doing all in his power to serve her
Majesty.

[Illustration: MARLBOROUGH HOUSE IN THE TIME OF ANNE.]

These obstacles to their entering into a dishonourable peace being
removed, Gualtier was once more despatched to Versailles, and this
time accompanied by Matthew Prior, a poet of some pretension and much
popularity, but much more distinguished as a diplomatist. He had lived
in France, knew the French and French Court well, having been secretary
to the embassies of the Earls of Portland and Jersey. Prior was a man
of courtly and insinuating manners, and devoted to Harley and the Tory
interest. The propositions which he brought from the queen as the
basis of the peace were--that the Dutch should have a barrier in the
Netherlands; that the German Empire should have another on the Rhine;
that the Duke of Savoy should receive back all towns or territories
taken during the war; that proper protection should be obtained for
the trade of England and Holland; that France should acknowledge the
title of Anne and the Protestant succession; that the fortifications
of Dunkirk should be destroyed; that Gibraltar and Port Mahon should
continue in British possession; that Newfoundland and Hudson's Bay
should also be acknowledged as British, but that the French should be
allowed to trade to Hudson's Bay; that in other respects France and
England should retain their possessions in America as they did before
the war; that the Assiento, or contract for supplying the Spanish
Colonies of South America with slaves--which had formerly been held by
the Portuguese, but, since 1702, by the French--should be made over
to England, with four towns on the Spanish Main, anywhere between the
Straits of Magellan and California, as depôts for the slaves when
first brought over. The terms might have been better, but they were
substantial. As Prior and Gualtier had no powers to accept terms from
France, M. Mesnager, an expert diplomatist, deputy from Rouen to the
Board of Trade in Paris, was despatched to London with the English
envoys. They were to return in all secrecy, and Mesnager was furnished
with certain instructions wholly unknown to Prior and Gualtier. These
were, that an equivalent for the destruction of the fortifications of
Dunkirk was to be demanded; and that some towns in Flanders which the
French had lost, particularly Lille and Tournay, should be restored.
These demands he was to keep very close, and only cautiously but
firmly open to the principal negotiators. But the secret was out that
a treaty was on foot with France, and the general opinion was that
the Ministers were bent on making peace on any terms. The Government,
nevertheless, kept the matter as much out of sight as possible. The
queen sent Prior to apologise to Mesnager for his being received in
so secret a manner, and Oxford, St. John, Jersey, and Shrewsbury were
appointed to confer with him privately. On the 8th of October the
English Commissioners and Mesnager had agreed upon the preliminaries
and signed them. Mesnager was then privately introduced to the queen
at Windsor, who made no secret of her anxiety for peace, telling him
she would do all in her power to complete the treaty and live in
good-fellowship with the King of France, to whom she was so closely
allied in blood. At supper she said publicly that she had agreed to
treat with France. The Ministers were just as incautious, for Swift
was invited by St. John the same evening to sup with him and a small
party in his apartments in Windsor Castle. This party consisted of no
other persons than Mesnager himself, Gualtier, and the infamous Abbé
Dubois, tutor to the young Duke of Orleans, this profligate having also
been engaged in assisting Mesnager in the treaty. With them was Prior.
All these particulars Swift wrote, as he wrote everything, to Stella
in Ireland. Yet when the preliminaries were handed to Count Gallas,
the Imperial ambassador, who, in his indignation, immediately had them
translated and inserted in one of the daily papers, the queen was so
angry that she forbade his reappearing at Court, and informed him that
he could quit the kingdom as soon as he thought proper. He departed
immediately, and the queen, to prevent an explosion on the part of the
Allies, wrote to the Emperor to say that she should be happy to receive
any other person that he might send. Raby, now Earl of Strafford, was
hurried to the Hague to announce to the States the fact of her having
signed these preliminaries, and to desire them to appoint a spot
where the Plenipotentiaries of the Allies and France should meet to
discuss them. Both the Dutch and the Emperor were startled and greatly
confounded at the discovery of the nature of the terms accepted. They
used every means to persuade the queen to draw back and accept no terms
except those which had been offered to France after the battle of
Malplaquet, but rather to push on the war vigorously, certain that they
must very soon obtain all they demanded.

[Illustration: HENRY ST. JOHN (AFTERWARDS VISCOUNT BOLINGBROKE).]

Nor was the excitement less at home. The news was out--the
preliminaries were before the public by the act of the Imperial
ambassador, and the Whigs were in a fury of indignation. They accused
the Ministers of being about to sacrifice the country, its power, and
interests to a shameful cowardice at the very moment that the labours
and sufferings of years had brought it to the verge of triumph, and
when Louis XIV. was old and tottering into the grave, leaving his
kingdom exhausted and powerless. But notwithstanding the violent
opposition both at home and abroad, the Ministers persisted in their
course. The queen wrote to the Electress Sophia of Hanover, entreating
her and her son to use their exertions with the Allies for the peace
of Europe. She sent over the Earl of Rivers to further her appeal; but
the Electoral Prince, so far from dreading to endanger his succession,
sent back a letter by Earl Rivers to the queen, strongly condemning the
terms on which the peace was proposed, and he ordered his ambassador,
the Baron von Bothmar, to present a memorial to the queen, showing the
pernicious consequences to Europe of allowing Philip to retain Spain
and the Indies. This bold and independent act greatly exasperated the
queen and her Ministers, and was extolled by the Whigs. There had been
attempts to influence the Elector by offering him the command of the
army in Flanders, in case of the removal of Marlborough, but that also
he declined.

Many of the Tories were as much opposed to the terms of the treaty
as the Whigs, and it was proposed to unite in a strong remonstrance
against the conduct of the Ministers in being willing to accept
them; but the intention getting wind, the queen suddenly prorogued
Parliament to the 7th of December, with the expectation of the arrival
of absent Scottish peers, who were all Tories, and a determination, if
necessary, to create a batch of English Tory peers. Notwithstanding
all resistance, it was finally settled with the Allies that their
representatives should meet those of England and France, to treat for a
general peace, at Utrecht, on the 1st of January, 1712.

The Ministers, in the meantime, went on strengthening their position.
Sir Simon Harcourt was created Baron Harcourt, and was raised from
Lord Keeper of the Seal to Lord Chancellor; the Duke of Buckingham
was appointed President of the Council in place of Lord Rochester,
deceased, and was succeeded in his office of Steward of the Household
by Earl Paulet, who had quitted the Treasury to make way for Harley's
elevation to the Treasurership. The Duke of Newcastle dying, Robinson,
Bishop of Bristol, was made Lord Privy Seal, a new thing since the days
of Wolsey and Laud for a Churchman. In Scotland the Jacobites were so
much elated by the proceedings of the Tories, and by whispers of what
really took place, while Mesnager was in secret conference with the
queen--namely, a zealous advocacy on his part of the setting aside
the Protestant succession, and the re-admission of the Pretender's
claims--that they proceeded to great lengths. They were in the end so
daring as to induce the Faculty of Advocates of Edinburgh to receive a
medal of the Pretender from the same ardent Duchess of Gordon who had
sent him word to come when he pleased, and to what port he pleased,
and that he would be well received. This medal had on the obverse
side a head of the Pretender, with the words, "Cujus est?" and on
the reverse the island of Britain and the word "Reddite." This they
not only received, but sent hearty thanks to the duchess for it. The
Hanoverian Ambassador was made aware of this incident, and presented a
memorial on the subject, which, however, only served to bring Sir David
Dalrymple, a zealous Whig and advocate for the Protestant succession,
into trouble, on the plea that he ought to have prosecuted Mr. Dundas
of Arniston for returning public thanks for the medal, whilst Arniston
himself, who boldly published a vindication of his conduct, was
suffered to escape.

On the opening of Parliament on the 7th of December, the queen
announced that "notwithstanding the arts of those who delighted in war,
both time and place were appointed for opening the treaty for a general
peace." This was carrying into the Royal Speech the animus which the
Tories had shown against the Whigs in all their speeches and pamphlets
lately. They had endeavoured to make the Whigs odious to the nation
as a faction bent on war solely for its own selfish interests, and
regardless of the interests of the nation or the sufferings of mankind.
Though the Speech contained other matters, everything else passed
without criticism or notice. This declaration produced a vehement
sensation, and roused all the party fire on both sides. The Ministers
were astonished to see the Earl of Nottingham, who had hitherto gone
with them, now adopt the Whig side in a very vigorous and telling
speech. He denounced the preliminaries as basely surrendering the great
objects of the war, and moved that a clause should be inserted in the
Address to the effect that no peace could be safe or honourable to
Great Britain or to Europe, if Spain and the Indies should be allotted
to any branch of the House of Bourbon. In the discussion it was shown
that the statement in the queen's Speech, that the Allies were all
prepared to adopt the preliminaries, was utterly untrue. The Earl of
Anglesey contended, on the other side, that it was high time to ease
the nation of the monstrous burthens of the war; and he aimed some
heavy blows at the Duke of Marlborough, affirming that a good peace
might have been effected after the battle of Ramillies, but for the
private interests of certain persons.

This called up Marlborough in his own defence. He bowed towards the
place where the queen was listening to the debate _incognita_, and
appealed to her, much to her embarrassment, whether, when he had the
honour to serve her Majesty as plenipotentiary as well as general,
he had not always faithfully informed her and her Council of all the
proposals of peace which had been made, and had desired instructions
for his guidance in such affairs. He appealed also to Heaven, whether
he was not always anxious for a safe, honourable, and lasting peace,
and whether he was not always very far from entertaining any design
of prolonging the war for his own private advantage, as his enemies
had most falsely insinuated. When the question was put, the amendment
of the Earl of Nottingham was carried by a majority of sixty-two to
fifty-four--that is, of only eight--notwithstanding all the exertions
of the Court party, and much to its astonishment. In the Commons,
however, the Ministry had a stronger party, and there they assured
the queen in their Address that they would do all in their power to
disappoint as well the acts and designs of those who for private views
might delight in war, as the hopes of the enemy conceived from the
divisions amongst themselves. Walpole moved an amendment similar to
that of the Lords, and it was lost by a majority of two hundred and
thirty-two to one hundred and six.

The Ministers were determined now to be rid of Marlborough. He not
only stood at the head of the Whigs at home, and threw his great
military reputation into the scale against the Tories in this question
of peace or war, but whilst he retained his command of the army, he
immensely strengthened the opposition of the Allies to the present
terms of pacification. It was resolved that he should be dismissed, a
measure which they felt would destroy much of his influence. The Whigs,
moreover, at this crisis fell into a snare laid for them by the Earl of
Nottingham, which extremely damaged them, and in the same proportion
benefited the Tories. He persuaded them that if they would only
consent to the passing of the Occasional Conformity Bill, there were
numerous persons of influence ready to quit the ranks of Oxford and
St. John; and though the Whigs were entirely opposed in principle to
this illiberal and unjust measure, they were weak enough, in the hope
of strengthening their party, to permit it to pass. The Dissenters,
greatly exasperated at this treachery, abandoned the Whig cause; the
promised proselytes did not come over, and Lord Dartmouth adds that
"Lord Nottingham himself had the mortification afterwards to see his
Bill repulsed with some scorn, and himself not much better treated."

In this state of affairs closed the year 1711. During the Christmas
holiday the Ministry matured several measures for the advancement of
their party. They were still in a minority in the Lords, and they
sought to remedy this by inducing the queen to create twelve new peers.
Lord Dartmouth, in his notes to Burnet, expresses his astonishment
on seeing the queen suddenly take from her pocket a list of twelve
new lords, and ordering him to bring warrants for them. Dartmouth,
unprepared for so sweeping a measure, asked whether her Majesty
intended to have them all made at once; and Anne replied, "Certainly;
that the Whigs and Lord Marlborough did all they could to distress her;
that she had made fewer lords than any of her predecessors; and that
she must help herself as well as she could." Among these new peers were
again two Scotsmen, but not peers, only the sons of peers, and the
husband of her favourite, Mrs. Masham. The witty Lord Wharton did not
spare a joke upon them at the time, by asking one of them, when the
question was put, whether "they voted by their foreman?" as though they
had been a jury.

The disgrace of Marlborough was now completed. On the 21st of December
he had been charged in the House of Commons with having made use of
his command of the army to make enormous sums of money at the expense
of the men; that he had appropriated one hundred and seventy-seven
thousand pounds by taking two and a half per cent. on all subsidies
for foreign troops maintained by England, and sixty-three thousand
pounds from Sir Solomon de Medina and Antonio Alvarez Machado, the Jew
contractors for bread for the army; that his secretary, Cardonnel,
had exacted five hundred gold ducats from the contractors each time a
new contract was signed, all which had to be taken out of the quality
of the food or clothing of the soldiers. The queen therefore wrote to
him, informing him that as there was a serious charge made against him
by the Commissioners of Accounts, she thought it best to dismiss him
from all his employments in order that the matter might be impartially
investigated. Nor did she neglect to add that the conduct of his wife
towards herself had made her more willing to adopt this measure.

Marlborough, in defence, pleaded to the queen, as he had to the
Commissioners of Inquiry, that he had appropriated nothing which had
not been the established perquisites of the commander-in-chief of the
army in the Low Countries both before the Revolution and since; and
that, whatever sums he had received from those sources, he had employed
in the service of the public in keeping secret correspondence, and in
getting intelligence of the enemy's motions and designs; and that, and
he could certainly say it with justice, he had employed this money
so successfully, that he had on no occasion suffered himself to be
surprised, but had often been able to surprise and defeat the enemy.
To this cause, next to the blessing of God and the bravery of the
troops, he attributed most of the advantages of the war. There can be
little doubt that Marlborough made the best of the power granted him
for appropriating these sums; that was his weak point; but he does not
appear to have exceeded the letter of his warrant; and the truth is
that the system itself was more in fault than the general.

But notwithstanding Marlborough's proofs that his appropriations were
according to long-established custom, the Commons admitted no such
plea. They voted that the two and a half per cent. deducted by him
from the pay of the foreign troops was public money, and that he ought
to account for it. They threatened to institute proceedings for its
recovery through the law officers of the Crown, and they expelled
Cardonnel, the duke's secretary, from the House for his receipt of the
fees mentioned in the contracts. They had the satisfaction, also, of
punishing Robert Walpole, one of Marlborough's most staunch defenders,
for taking, when Secretary of War, five hundred guineas, and a note
for five hundred more, on the signing of a contract for forage for her
Majesty's troops quartered in Scotland. The deed deserved punishment,
but it was one which all secretaries perpetrated equally with Walpole,
as he showed, and which would never have been noticed had Walpole
yielded to the Tory entreaties and carried his great abilities to their
side. They, however, voted the fact a high breach of trust, and of
notorious corruption, and ordered his expulsion from the House and his
committal to the Tower. The borough of Lynn, which Walpole represented,
immediately re-elected him; but the Commons pronounced him incapable of
sitting in that Parliament, and declared the election void.

INDEX

Abjuration Oath, The, 423.

Adjutators, The, 62.

"Agreement of the People," The, 84.

Aghrim, Battle of, 446.

Allegiance and Supremacy, Act of, 238.

Allen, plot against Cromwell, 130.

Almanza, Battle of, 576.

Amboyna, the massacre of Englishmen by Dutch, 111.

America, Rise of colonies in, 167.

Anabaptists denounce Cromwell, 124;
outbreak among, 140.

Anne, Queen, reconciled with William, 479;
succeeds to the throne, 535;
speech to Parliament, her Tory bias, 536;
coronation of, 538;
Jacobite plot against, 547;
"Bounty," 549;
the union between England and Scotland, 573;
letter from the Pretender, 602.

Apprentices, London, petition the Commons, 5;
fight at Westminster, 6.

Architecture during the Stuart period, 371.

Argyll, Earl of, in conflict with Montrose, 42;
defeated by Montrose, 43.

Argyll, Marquis of, Execution of, 202.

Argyll, Earl of (9th Earl), accused of high treason, 272;
expedition against James II., 296;
capture and execution of, 297.

Army, Reduction of the standing, 502-507.

Arundel Marbles, The, 186.

Ashburnham, Lord, 51.

Assembly, The General, address to Charles I., 43.

"Assize, The Bloody," 304-306;
trial of Lady Alice Lisle, interference of James II., 305;
at Exeter and Taunton, 306.

Association for defence of the king, 488.

Athlone, Capture of, 443-445.

Ayscough, Admiral Sir George, the reduction of Barbadoes,
suspected of Royalist sympathies by Parliament, 112.

Baden, Prince of, the war against Louis XIV., 552;
jealousy of Marlborough, 552, 554.

Bank of England established, 471.

Barclay, plot against William III., 485.

"Barebone's Parliament," 119.

Baxter, Richard, 363.

Beachy Head, Battle of, 434.

Beaumont, Francis, 175.

Bedloe, the informer, 254.

Benbow, Admiral, 541.

Berkeley, Sir John, 71, 72;
messenger between Charles I. and Cromwell, 74.

Bishops, Trial of the Seven, 328-331;
public sympathy during, 330;
the acquittal, 331.

Blake, Admiral Robert, siege of Lyme Regis, 30;
conflicts with Prince Rupert, 110;
encounters van Tromp, 112;
defeats the Dutch fleet, 123;
expedition against France, 134;
and expedition against Spain, 136;
battle of Santa Cruz, 143;
death of, 144.

Blenheim, Battle of, 555.

Bolingbroke, Lord, 594;
correspondence with the Pretender, 602.

Borlase, Sir John, 2.

Bothwell Brig, Battle of, 263.

Boyd, Rev. Zachary, preaches against Cromwell, 105.

Boyne, Battle of the, 430.

Bradshaw, John, arraignment of Charles I., 86-88;
arguments against the absolutism of kings, 87.

Breda, Charles II. at, 162;
Declaration of, 163.

Bristol, Earl of, charge against Charles II., 211.

Bristol, Siege of, 44.

Browne, Sir Thomas, 183.

Browne, William, 180.

Buckingham, Lord, 227.

Burnet, Bishop, memorial to William of Orange, 336;
on tithes, 548;
unpopularity with the Tories, 591.

Butler, Samuel, 358.

Byng, Admiral Sir George, 580.

Cabal, The, 227, 238.

Cameronians, The, 271.

Capel, Lord, impeached of high treason by the Commons, 12;
trial and execution of, 94.

Carew, Thomas, 178.

Carisbrooke Castle, Charles I. at, 73.

"Case of the Army," The, 71.

Catherine of Portugal, marriage to Charles II., 205.

Catholics, Injunctions against, in Ireland, 2;
massacre of Protestants, resolution by Parliament, 3;
secret sympathy of Charles I. with, 286;
efforts of James II. in favour of, 311;
a Privy Council of, livings in the Church of England given to, 312;
triumph in England, riots in London, 314;
trial of "Julian" Johnson, crusade against Protestantism in
Scotland and Ireland, 315, 316;
dismissal of Rochester and Clarendon, 318;
the Declaration of Indulgence, 319;
policy of William of Orange, 320;
supremacy in the Universities, 325;
opposition to James II. by Protestant bishops, 327;
an army of Irish, 332;
memorial to William of Orange, concessions to Protestants by
James II., 336;
William's declaration, 338.

Cevennes, Insurrections in the, 544.

Chalgrove, Battle at, 20.

Chapman, Thomas, 174.

Charles I. receives a deputation of Catholics, 2;
chagrined at proceedings of the Commons, presented with the
"Remonstrance," speech to the Commons, 4;
prepares articles of high treason against five Commoners, visit
to the Houses of Parliament, 7;
decides on war, passes two important bills, 8;
receives declaration from Parliament, retires to York, 10;
fails in his attempt to enter Hull, 11;
insists on his demands, raises his standard at Nottingham, 14;
his inconsistency, Battle of Edgehill, 15;
scheme for the extinction of Parliament, 27;
defeats Parliamentary troops under Essex, 30;
tries accommodation, 35;
propositions from the Scots, 36;
battle of Naseby, 39, 40;
flight into Wales, 42;
endeavours to join Montrose, 44;
ruin virtually complete, 46;
proposals contemptuously treated by Parliament, 48;
disavowal of treaty with Irish Catholics, 49;
offer of negotiations to Parliament, 50;
flight from Oxford, 51;
surrenders to the Scots, 52;
endeavours to raise army from Ireland and France, discusses
Episcopacy and Presbytery, 55;
meditates escape from England, 57;
his stubbornness, 70;
escape from Hampton Court, at Carisbrooke Castle, 72;
a close prisoner, 74;
reaction in his favour, 75;
resolve regarding Presbyterianism, 80;
concessions, at Hurst Castle, 82;
his trial, 86-88;
execution, 90.

Charles II. proclaimed king in Scotland, 92;
reception among the Scots, 101;
agrees to take the Covenant, 102;
demands by the Assembly, 108;
attempted flight, concessions by the Covenanters, 104;
crowned at Scone, invades England, defeated at Worcester,
escapes to Normandy, 106;
his proclamation from Paris, 124;
his life in France, 132;
rising in England in his favour, 154;
his character, 193;
first Privy Council, 194;
his marriage, 205;
loss of prestige to France, 210;
war with Holland, 214;
the Treaty of Dover, 231;
his embarrassments, 267;
described by Macaulay, 287;
his illness and death, 287, 288;
coins of, 373.

Chancery, Reform of the Court of, 126.

Chillingworth, 182.

Churchill (_see_ Marlborough).

Clarendon, Lord, supports Charles I., 12;
quoted, 52, 65, 149;
his view of Cromwell, 68;
reply to Parliament in favour of Charles I., 75;
influence at the Court of Charles II., 198, 206;
fall of, 225;
character of, 226.

Claverhouse, Graham of, 264;
exertions in favour of James II., 407;
death at Killiecrankie, 408.

Clonmel attacked by Cromwell, 100.

Clotworthy, Sir John, on the Irish Papists, 2.

Coaching in the time of Charles II., 381.

Coins at the time of Charles II., 373;
in the reign of William and Mary, 483.

Colepepper, Sir John, 12.

Commerce under Cromwell, 384;
under the Stuarts, 386-388;
value with America and the West Indies, 391.

Commonwealth, The, 90;
difficulties with Portugal, acknowledged by Spain, 110;
war with Holland, 110, 114;
treaties with Holland, France, Denmark, Portugal and Sweden, 123.

Conformity Bill, The, 204.

Conventicle Act, The, 212.

Cooper, Sir Anthony Ashley, 122.

Costumes in the Stuart period, 191, 377.

Coventry, Lord, impeached of high treason by the Commons, 12.

Coventry, Sir John, 233.

Cowley, Abraham, popularity as a poet, 358.

Crashaw, Thomas, 178.

Cromwell, Henry, 154.

Cromwell, Oliver, remarks on the "Remonstrance," 4;
takes a commission in the Parliamentary army, 13;
his military tact, 18;
his success as a General, 20;
Battle of Marston Moor, 29;
irritated by Parliament's inaction, 30;
charge against the Earl of Manchester, proposes the "Self-denying
Ordinance," his genius in War, 39;
victories, 47;
his character, 68;
defeats Royalists at Preston, invited to Edinburgh, 78;
war in Ireland, 97-100;
captures Dublin, 98;
deplorable fanaticism of, 99;
appointed commander-in-chief, invades Scotland, 103;
defeats Leslie, 104;
at Glasgow, 105;
victory at Worcester, 106;
arrival in London, 107;
meditates kingly power, 116;
dissolves the Long Parliament, 118;
constitutes a Parliament in his own name, 119;
becomes Lord Protector, 121;
installation as Protector, 122;
plan against Royalist outbreaks, 131;
dispute with Spain, 133;
great speech to Parliament, 136;
refuses the crown, 142;
inauguration at the head of the Government, makes war against
Spain, 144;
his last Parliament, 147;
last days of, 148;
death of, 150.

Cromwell, Richard, succeeds to the Protectorate, difficulties
with the army, 150;
his power ceases, 152;
abdicates, 154.

Cudworth, William, 182.

Cutts, Lord, at the Battle of Blenheim, 555.

Dalrymple, Sir James, influence in Scottish affairs, 403.

Danby, Earl, Impeachment of, 257;
imprisoned in the Tower, 259.

Dangerfield, the informer, 266.

Daniel, Samuel, 176.

Darien expedition, The, 512;
its miserable end, 514.

"Declaration of Indulgence," 319.

Defoe denounces the Occasional Conformity Bill, 559;
quoted, 570.

Delamere, Lord, Trial of, 309.

Denbigh, Earl of, Commission to Charles I., 36.

Denham, Sir John, 176, 361.

Denmark, Prince George of, 583.

De Ruyter, in command of the Dutch fleet, 111;
victory over the English, defeated by Blake, 112.

De Torcy, French ambassador, 586.

Devonshire, Earl of, impeached of high treason by the Commons, 12.

De Witt, in command of the Dutch fleet, 111;
defeated by Blake, 112;
his "Interest of Holland," 387.

Digby, Lord, 49;
letter from Charles I., 53.

Donne, John, 177.

Dorislaus, Dr., assassinated by Royalists, 96.

Dover, Earl of, impeached of high treason by the Commons, 12.

Dover, Treaty of, 231.

Dramatic writing under the Stuarts, 361, 378.

Drayton, Michael, 176.

Drogheda, Storming of, by Cromwell, 98.

Drumclog, Battle of, 263.

Drummond of Hawthornden, 177.

Dryden, John, 318;
poems of, 359;
prose, 362.

Dublin, Capture by Cromwell, 98.

Dunbar, Battle of, 104.

Dundee, Viscount (_see_ Claverhouse).

Dunkirk, Siege of, 147.

Dutch, attack by fleet on the Thames, 223;
defeated at Southwold Bay, 235.

Dykvelt, Dutch ambassador at the English court, 320;
efforts in behalf of the Prince of Orange, 321.

East India Company, Origin of the, 166;
bill for regulating the trade of, 450.

Edgehill, Battle of, 15.

"Engagement," The, 92.

"Engagers," 96.

Engraving at the time of Charles II., 373.

Episcopacy, Charles I. discusses with Alexander Henderson, 55.

Essex, Earl of, appointed commander of the Parliamentary army, 13;
victory at Edgehill, 15, 16;
rewarded by Parliament, 116;
his dilatory spirit, 19;
victories, receives overtures from Charles I., defeated, 30;
resignation of, 33.

Eugene, Prince, in command with Marlborough, 554;
the battle of Lutzingen, 556.

Evelyn, John, 363.

Exclusion Bill, The, 261.

Fairfax, Lord, his Parliament sympathy, 14;
appointed commander-in-chief of the Parliament army, 32;
the battle of Naseby, 39;
mediates between the army and Parliament, 62;
enters London, 67;
attitude to the king, 68;
disturbances in London, 77;
trial of Charles I., 86;
resigns his command, 102;
re-appointed to leading command, resigns office, 103;
his Royalist leanings, 158.

Falkland, Lord, his defection from the Parliament ranks, 12;
death of, character of, 23.

Fenwick, Sir John, plot against William III., 491;
trial of, 495.

Feversham, Lord, 300.

Fifth-Monarchy men, 124;
Cromwell's speech in regard to the, 127;
rising at Mile-end, 140.

Fire of London, The, 219.

Firmin, Mr., benevolent scheme in regard to pauperism, 394.

Flamsteed, the astronomer, 367.

Fleetwood, General, appointed Cromwell's deputy in Ireland, 107;
policy of, 151.

Fletcher, John, 175.

Fletcher of Saltoun, 272, 295;
opposed to the union between England and Scotland, 571.

Fox, George, 352.

France, treaty with Cromwell, 135;
war in the Netherlands, 144;
opposition to William III., 425.

Friends, The Society of, 229;
persecution in America, 354;
efforts in regard to the Abjuration Bill, 532.

Fuller, Thomas, 183.

Galway, Earl of, in command against Louis XIV. in Spain, 567.

Gaultier, Abbé, 602.

"Gerard, Generous," 125.

Germany, Emperor of, Agreement between, and the Allies, 544.

Gibbons, Dr., music of, 183.

Gibbons, Grinling, the sculptor, 372.

Gibraltar, Capture of, 559;
efforts by Spain for its recovery, 562.

Glamorgan, Earl of, commission from Charles I. to the Irish
Catholics, 48.

Godfrey, Sir Edmundbury, Murder of, 250.

Godolphin, Lord, appointed Lord Treasurer, 536.

Gordon, Duke of, 404.

Goring, Colonel, in command of Royalist troops, 76, 78;
trial of, 93.

Graham, John, of Claverhouse (_see_ Claverhouse).

Granville, Mr., speech at the accession of Queen Anne, 536.

Gregg, William, executed for high treason, 579.

Grenville, Sir Richard, 82.

Guiscard, Marquis of, 600.

Habeas Corpus Act, Suspension of the, 401.

Hague, Treaty of the, 243.

Hale, Sir Matthew, 126.

Halifax, Earl of, character of, 261;
his policy as "Trimmer," 282;
opposition from Duke of York, 285;
superseded by Rochester, 290;
pamphlet by, 482.

Hamilton, Duke of, opposition to the union between England and
Scotland, 571.

Hamilton, Marquis of, policy of the, his duplicity, 24;
leads a Scots army into England, 77;
defeated by Cromwell at Preston, 78;
executed by order of the Commonwealth, 94.

Hammond, Colonel, 72.

Hampden, John, his gentleness, 2;
impeached, 7;
takes a commission in the Parliamentary army, 13;
death at Chalgrove, character of, 20.

Hampton Court, Charles I. at, 71.

Harcourt, Sir Simon, Bill in regard to union between England
and Scotland, 573.

Harley, Earl of Oxford, elected Speaker, 530;
accused of Jacobite sympathy, dismissed from office, 579;
efforts against the Whigs, 588;
raised to the Peerage, 600;
secret negotiations with France, 602.

Harrison, Colonel, at the battle of Naseby, 39;
his fanaticism, 124;
imprisoned in the Tower, 128.

Harvey, Dr. W., 366.

Haversham, Lord, 563.

Hazelrig, Impeachment of, by Charles I., 7.

Heinsius, Dutch Chancellor, 550, 574.

Henrietta, Queen, reception in Holland, 8;
her powers of fascination, 18;
flight to France, 30.

Herbert, George, 179.

Herrick, Robert, 178.

Hill, Abigail, 578.

Hobbes, Thomas, 362.

Holland, Earl of, Royalist rising under, 78;
executed by order of the Commonwealth, 94.

Holland, jealousy of the Commonwealth, 110;
birth of William III., maritime greatness, 111;
war with England, 111-114;
fleet defeated by Blake, treaty with England, 123.

Holles, impeached by Charles I., 7.

Holmby, Charles I. at, 59.

Hooke, Colonel, Jacobite plot by, 378.

Hotham, Sir John, defence of Hull against Charles I., 10;
proclaimed a traitor, 11.

Howard, Lord, of Charlton, impeached of high treason by the Commons, 12.

Hyde, Lawrence (_see_ Rochester).

Hyde (_see_ Clarendon).

Incorporated companies, 167.

Indemnity, Bill of, 195.

Independents, difficulties with the Presbyterians, 59;
their hour of triumph, treatment of Charles I., 68.

Indies, Expedition to the West, by fleet of Parliament, 135.

Indulgence, The Declaration of, 318.

Industries introduced by foreign refugees, 389.

Inquiry, Bill for Commission of, 222.

"Instrument of Government," The, 122.

Ireland, Rebellion in, 1, 3;
massacre, 3;
Catholic confederacy, 26;
war in, 97-100;
claims under Charles II., 200;
government under James II., 316;
exertions of James II. against Protestantism, 410;
revolution under Tyrconnel, 411;
landing of James II., 412;
siege of Londonderry, 413-416;
James's Parliament, 417;
battle of the Boyne, 430;
defence of Limerick, 432;
capture of Athlone, 443-445.

Ireton, General, at the battle of Naseby, 39;
his opinion regarding Charles I., 72;
the "Agreement of the People," 84;
his command in Ireland, death of, 107.

Jacobites, outcry against the Scottish union, 570;
great zeal in Scotland, 606.

Jamaica, Capture of, 135.

James I., commerce under, 165;
coinages by, 171;
costume during the reign of, 190;
prices, 192.

James II., speech to the Privy Council, 289;
cabinet of, 290;
openly avows Roman Catholicism, 291, 310;
policy with Louis XIV., 291;
difficulties with Parliament, 307;
counsellors of, 310;
acts of opposition to the Church, 312-314;
religious persecution in Scotland, 316;
his government in Ireland, 316-318;
the Declaration of Indulgence, 318;
absolute power of, 319;
pays homage to the Papal Nuncio, outrages in army affairs, 323;
encroachments on the universities, 325;
a new Declaration of Indulgence, 327;
decay of power, 332;
his wrongheadedness, 334;
concessions on approach of William of Orange, 336;
utterly deserted, 343;
flight from London, 344;
capture and return, 346-347;
escape to France, 348;
coins of, 373;
letter to the Scottish Convention, 404;
landing in Ireland, forms a Privy Council, 412;
his Irish Parliament, 417;
his legislation in Ireland, 418;
his Irish army, 427;
defeat at the Boyne, 431;
declaration, 459;
death of, 529.

Jeffreys, Lord, Chief Justice at Chester, 274;
gift from Charles II., 284;
brutal character of, 285;
the Bloody Assize, 304.

Jermyn, Lord, 46.

Jews, petition to Parliament for permitting them to live in England, 136.

Johnson, "Julian," 315.

Jonson, Ben, 175.

Joyce, Cornet, seizes Charles I., 63.

Junto, The Whig, 583.

Juxon, Bishop, 55.

Killiecrankie, Battle of, 408.

"Killing no Murder," 139.

Kilsyth, Battle of, 44.

Kimbolton, Lord, Impeachment of, 7.

Kirby, the informer, 247.

"Kirke's Lambs," 303.

La Hogue, Battle of, 460.

Lambert, General, appointed deputy in Ireland, 107;
trial under Charles II., 207.

Landen, Battle of, 467.

Langdale, Sir Marmaduke, capture of Berwick, 77.

Laud, Archbishop, impeachment of, executed, 34-35.

Lauderdale, Earl of, 203.

Lauzun, Marshal, 428.

League and Covenant, The Solemn, 25.

Leibnitz, 366.

Leicester, Earl of, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, 3.

Leighton, Archbishop, 203.

Lely, the painter, 371.

Lenthall, the Speaker, 7, 128.

Leslie, General Sir David, in command of the Scottish cavalry, 44;
defeats Montrose, 46;
defeated by Cromwell at Cockburnspath, 104;
receives overtures from Charles I., 55;
defeat at Dunbar, 104.

Levellers, The, vow against Cromwell and the king, 71;
turbulence of, 94.

Leven, Earl of, 44, 103.

Levesey, Sir Michael, 78.

Lilburne, Colonel, Character of, 71;
advocates a Republic, 94;
tried for sedition, 120.

Lille, Capture of, by the Allies, 582.

"Lillibulero," 332.

Lindsay, Lord, at the battle of Edgehill, 15, 16.

Lisle, Sir George, shot by Parliamentary troops, 78.

Literature in the Stuart period, 355 _et seqq._

Locke, John, proposal regarding coinage, 483.

Lockhart, Sir William, Cromwell's ambassador at the Hague, 147.

London, Defence against Charles I., 16;
growth of, 168;
moral condition under the Stuarts, 188, 379;
the Great Plague, 215-16;
the Great Fire, 219;
terror at the French invasion under Tourville, 434;
great storm of 1704, 547.

Londonderry, Siege of, 413-416.

Long Parliament, The, Cromwell's address to the, 118;
the _coup d'état_, 118-119.

Louis XIV., in league with Cromwell against Spain, 144;
war with Holland, 235, 243;
joins with James II. against William of Orange, 334;
decay of power, 498;
designs in Spain, 505;
proclaims the son of James II. King of England, 529;
inroads on the German Empire, 546;
great exertions against the Allies, 564;
emissaries in Scotland in support of the Pretender, 579;
active operations on the Continent, 580;
capture of Lille, rejects propositions of peace, 582;
ruinous effects of his ambition, 583;
sues for peace with Holland, 584;
his terms of peace, 585;
the forty articles, refuses the ultimatum of the Allies, 586;
fall of Tournay, battle of Malplaquet, 587;
renews overtures for peace, 595.

Lucas, Sir Charles, shot by Parliamentary troops, 78.

Ludlow, Colonel, denounces Charles I., 80;
fanaticism of, dislike to Cromwell, 124.

Lunsford, Colonel, appointed Lieutenant of the Tower, 5.

Macaulay quoted, 224.

Mackay, General, in command in Scotland, 406;
battle of Killiecrankie, 408.

Mackenzie, Sir George, 364.

Maguire, Cornelius, Irish rebel leader, 1.

Malplaquet, Battle of, 587.

Manchester, Earl of, disputes with Cromwell, 30.

Marlborough, Duke of, in command in Ireland, 437;
character of, 440, 451;
dismissed from office, 452;
imprisonment, 460;
receives the Order of the Garter from Queen Anne, appointed
Captain-General of the English army, 536;
influence of his party, commander-in-chief, 538;
in command on the Rhine, his bold plans, 539;
warm welcome in England, alienation from the Tories, 542;
the Toleration Act, 543;
campaign in Flanders, 544-545;
campaign on the Moselle, 550;
assault on Schellenberg, 552;
battle of Blenheim, 555;
third campaign against the French, 560;
battle of Ramillies, 565;
wane of his party influence, 578;
battle of Oudenarde, 580;
battle of Malplaquet, 587;
decline of power, 596;
end of his influence, 598;
in disgrace, 599;
opposition to his efforts by the Tories, 602;
his fall, 607;
the charges brought against him, his defence, 608.

Marston Moor, Battle of, 28.

Marten, Henry, 91.

Marvell, Andrew, 360.

Mary, Princess, at the Dutch Court, 8.

Massinger, Philip, 175.

Mayday, Celebration of, 383.

Mazarin, 47, 133.

Meal-Tub Plot, The, 266.

Middleton, Thomas, 175.

Mildmay, Sir Henry, 83.

Militia Bill, Opposition of Charles I. to, 11.

Milton, John, 91;
his prose, 182;
his Republican sympathy, 355;
_Paradise Lost_, 356.

Ministers' Bill, The, 195.

Monk, General, policy in Scotland, 108;
his reserve, 155;
march to London, 159;
proclaims a full and free Parliament, 160;
secretly working for the Restoration, 162;
receives Charles II. at Dover, 165;
commander-in-chief, 194.

Monmouth, Duke of, 263;
popularity of, 266;
makes a royal progress through the provinces, 273;
proclamation for his apprehension, 277;
reconciliation with his father, 282;
at the Court of Holland, 286;
expelled from Holland, his reception in England, 298;
political blunder of, 299;
battle of Sedgemoor, 301;
death of, 303.

Monmouth, Earl of, impeached by the Commons, 12.

Mons captured by Louis XIV., 439.

Montagu, Lord, 256.

Montreuil, negotiation with Scots on behalf of Charles I., 50.

Montrose, Marquis of, policy of, 24;
unfurls the royal standard at Dumfries, at Blair Athol,
defeats Elcho, 42;
attack on Argyleshire, defeats Argyll, defeats John Ury, 43;
a second victory over Baillie, 44;
fame of, rising in favour of Charles II., 101;
defeat in Ross-shire, betrayal of, execution, 102.

Moore, Roger, incites the Irish against England, 2.

Mountjoy, Lord, Treachery of James II. towards, 411.

"Muggletonians," 355.

Muscovy Company, The, 167.

Music under the Puritans, 373;
in the time of Charles II., 374.

Namur, captured by Louis XIV., 454;
second siege, 480;
fall of, 481.

Nantes, Edict of, revocation of by Louis XIV., 307.

Napier, Lord, of Merchiston, 366.

Naseby, Battle of, 39.

Navigation Act, passed by Parliament, 111;
in operation, 388;
growth of trading companies, 390.

Navy, English, in the Stuart period, 386.

Netherlands, Disturbances in the, 147.

"Neuters," 115.

Newbury, Battle of, 22.

Newcastle, Marquis of, in command of the Royalist army, 26;
Battle of Marston Moor, 28.

Newmarket, meeting of Parliament soldiers, 62.

Newport, Lord, controversy with the king, 6.

Newton, Sir Isaac, 366.

Nonconformists, The, 352.

Non-Jurors, Rise of the faction of, 399.

Northumberland, Earl of, Lord High Admiral, under Parliament, 10, 11.

Nottingham, Charles I. raises his standard at, 14.

"Novum Organum," The, 181.

Oates, Titus, the Popish plot, his story before the Council, 248;
imitators of, 250;
effect upon the people, 251;
his real character, 252;
his forgeries, 253;
impeachments by, 255;
convicted of perjury, 292.

Oath, Coronation, of William and Mary, 403.

Occasional Conformity Bill, The, 543, 547.

O'Connelly, Sir John, 2.

O'Neil, Sir Phelim, 2;
the Irish massacre of 1641, 3.

Orange, Prince of, 587.

Orange, William of (_see_ William III.).

Ordinance, The Self-denying, 31.

Ormond, Earl, makes terms with Parliament, 55;
leader of the Irish Royalists, 97;
secret visit to England on behalf of Charles I., 147;
unfair treatment by James II., 290.

"Orrery Letters," The, 144.

Oudenarde, Battle of, 580.

Overton, Colonel, plot against Cromwell, 130.

Owen, Sir John, Trial of, by Parliament, 93.

Oxford, Charles I. at, 18;
Parliament at, 27, 268;
declaration by the University of, 279.

Pack, Sir Christopher, "Remonstrance" against Cromwell by, 139.

Painting during the Stuart period, 371.

Papal Nuncio, James II. pays homage to the, 323.

Parker, Dr., effort of James II. to install him at Magdalen College, 324.

Parliament, discussion with Charles I., 18;
makes a new Great Seal, 19;
further propositions to Charles I., 38;
treaties with the Scots regarding possession of Charles I., 54;
resolution in regard to the Constitution, 76;
condemns Charles I., 86-88;
dishonesty under Charles II., 242.

Parliament, The Little, 119.

Parsons, Sir William, 1.

Partition Treaty, The, 523.

Paterson, William, projector of the Bank of England, 510.

Pauperism under the Stuarts, plan for decrease of, by Yarranton, 393;
benevolent scheme of Firmin, 394.

Penn, William, 229.

Pension Parliament, The, 258.

Pepys, Samuel, 364.

Peterborough, Earl of, his able generalship, assault of Barcelona, 562;
brilliant exploits in Spain, 563.

Peters, Hugh, 97, 198.

"Petition and Advice," The, 145;
legality of, debated in Parliament, 151.

Petre, Father, Jesuit Provincial, at the court of James II., 311.

Petty, Sir William, on mercantile shipping, 386.

Philiphaugh, Battle of, 46.

Plague, The Great, 215, 216.

Plymouth Adventuress, The, 167.

Poets during the Stuart period, 174.

Post Office, Origin of the English, 388.

Poynings' Act, 38.

Presbyterians, difference from Independents, 59;
treaty with Charles I., 79;
condition under Charles II., 196;
assailed in Scotland, 212.

Press, Liberty of the, 466, 482.

Preston, Battle of, 78.

"Pride's Purge," 83.

Prose writers during the Stuart period, 362.

Protestantism, declaration of William III., 397.

Prynne, William, his efforts against Laud, 34.

Purcell, Henry, 374.

Pym, 26.

Quakers, The (_see_ Society of Friends).

Quebec, Expedition to, 601.

Rainsborough, Colonel, revolt of fleet in favour of Charles I., 76.

Raleigh, Sir Walter, 166.

Ramillies, Battle of, 565.

Remonstrance on the state of the kingdom, composition of, 4.

Resumption Bill, The, 517.

Revenue in the Stuart period, 385.

Rights, Declaration of, 350;
Bill of, 423.

Rochester, Earl of, Prime Minister, 310;
love of office, 317;
fall of, 318;
loyalty to James II., 344;
declares for William, 345.

Rooke, Admiral Sir George, expedition to Cadiz, 540;
Battle of Vigo Bay, 541;
Capture of Gibraltar, 559.

Rosen, General, at the siege of Londonderry, his savagery, 415.

Royal Society, Founding of the, 365.

Rubens, 186.

Rullion Green, Battle of, 223.

Rump, The, origin of the name, 83;
influence in political affairs, 152, 153.

Rupert, Prince, his style of warfare, 16;
battle at Chalgrove, 19;
victories by, 27;
surrenders Bristol, character of, 44;
carries on the war by sea, 109.

Russell, Lord William, 278;
trial and execution of, 279.

Rye House Plot, The, 276.

Ryswick, Treaty of, 501.

Sacheverell, Dr. Henry, accused of high treason, 588;
taken into custody, 590;
riots by partisans, 591;
trial of, 592, 593.

Sales, Bill of, 195.

Sancroft, Archbishop, Trial of, 328.

Schomberg, Marshal, 416;
arrival in Ireland, 427;
death at the Battle of the Boyne, 430.

Scone, Charles II. crowned at, 106.

Scotland, dealings with the Parliament, invasion of England, 24;
army crosses the Tweed, 27;
propositions of leaders to Charles I., 35;
rising under Montrose, 101, 102;
invaded by Cromwell, Cromwell's military stations, 103;
Charles II. crowned at Scone, 106;
disaffection to Cromwell, 124;
claims under Charles II., 200, 201;
persecutions by Charles II., Presbyterianism assailed, 212;
the Covenanters, 222;
continued religious persecutions, 262, 283, 316;
meeting of Parliament, 292;
the triumph of Presbytery, meeting of the Convention, 403;
Jacobite rising, 407-410;
affairs under William and Mary, 435;
Massacre of Glencoe, 456;
Parliament of William and Mary, 478;
excitement against the Orange ministry, 510;
enthusiasm in the Darien expedition, 512;
indignation against William, 514;
union with England, 567.

"Scourers, The," 379.

Sedgemoor, Battle of, 301.

"Seekers," The, 354.

Self-denying Ordinance, The, 32.

Sexby, Colonel, at the court of Madrid, 134;
attempt of Popish invasion, 137.

Seymour, Sir Edward, 294.

Shaftesbury, Earl of (First Earl), attacks on Popery, 261;
schemes of rebellion, 274;
death of, character of, 275.

Shakespeare, 173.

Sharp, Archbishop, 203;
murder of, 263.

Sheldon. Dr., 55.

Sherlock, Bishop, proposal in favour of James II. at the Revolution, 349.

Shovel, Sir Cloudesley, 559;
in command of the English fleet, 576;
wreck and death of, 577.

Sidney, Algernon, Trial and execution of, 280-282.

Sindercomb, attempt to assassinate Cromwell, 138.

Solemn League and Covenant, The, 25.

Somers, Lord, 506;
forced to resign the Lord Chancellorship, 517;
trial of, 527;
integrity of, 535.

Spain, acknowledges the Commonwealth, 110;
dispute with Cromwell, 133;
visit of king Charles to England, 546;
collapse of his power, 567.

Spencer, Earl of Northampton, impeached of high treason by
the Commons, 12.

Sport under Charles II., 380.

Stafford, Lord, Trial and execution of, 267.

Steam-engine introduced into England, 369.

St. John, Oliver, chief justice under the Commonwealth, 91.

Strode impeached, 7.

Suckling, Sir John, 178.

Sunderland, Earl of, Prime Minister under Charles II., character of, 259;
intrigues in behalf of James II., 310;
treason to James II., 338.

Tallard, Marshal, 554.

Tangier, Settlement of, 207.

Tarbet, Lord, advice to William III. regarding the Highlands, 140, 407.

Tate, Mr., moves the self-denying ordinance, 32.

Temple, Sir William, 261, 308.

Test Act, Operation of the, 320.

Thurloe, John, secretary for the Parliament, 37;
secretary of the Parliamentary Council, 122;
Secretary of State, 125;
his alertness, 140, 407.

Tories, early conflicts with the Whigs, 420, 422;
efforts to gain power, 508;
rivalry with the Whigs under William III., 524;
influence under Queen Anne, Marlborough's alienation from the, 542.

Treason, Bill for regulating trials in cases of high, 450, 484.

Treaty of Ryswick, The, 501.

Treaty, The Partition, 523.

Triennial Act, The, 211.

"Triers," 122.

"Trimmers," The, 451.

Tuam, Archbishop of, killed in a skirmish, 48.

Turenne, Marshal, 144.

Turkey merchants, The, 167.

Tyrconnel, Earl of, appointed Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, 318;
plot with James II. to hand over Ireland to Louis XIV., 325;
treacherous character of, 411.

Union between England and Scotland, The, 573.

Uxbridge, Meeting of Royalist and Parliamentary Commissioners at, 37.

Vane, Sir Harry, 83;
ability of, 207;
executed by Charles II., 208.

Vaudois, Massacre of the, 134.

Vaughan, Lord Chief Justice, the trial of Penn, noble defence of
the rights of juries, 231.

Vendôme, Duke of, 580.

Venner, rising of Fifth-Monarchy men under, 140.

Verrio, Antonio, the painter, influence with Charles II., 371.

Vigo Bay, Battle of, 541.

Villeroi, Marshal, 565.

Waldenses, The, 439.

Waller, Edmund, 22.

Walton, Isaac, 363.

Warner, William, 176.

Warwick, Earl of, Admiral of the Parliamentary fleet, 78;
in league with the Royalists, 79.

Webster, John, 175.

Westminster Assembly, The, disagreement of Presbyterians and
Independents, 34.

Wexford, capture by Cromwell, 99.

Whigs, the name "Whiggamores," 84;
keen rivalry with the Tories, 508, 524;
triumph under William and Mary, 530.

White, Robert, the engraver, 373.

Whitelock, 116, 142.

Wildman, Colonel, plot against Cromwell, 131.

William III., dauntless spirit and ready resource of, 236;
arrival in England, 242;
marriage to his cousin Princess Mary, 243;
conquests in the Netherlands, 244-246;
visit to England, 271;
his opinion of the Declaration of Indulgence, popularity
in England, 320;
invited to expel James II., 331;
prepares to invade England, 332;
memorial in favour of, 335;
embarks for England, 338;
landing at Torbay, 339-342;
enters London, 348;
the succession difficulty, 349;
the Declaration of Rights, 350;
accession of, 396;
his first Ministry, 397;
settlement of the revenue, 399;
acknowledged king of Scotland, 406;
conflict with the Whigs, 419;
speech to Parliament, 423;
Irish campaign, 425;
his army in Ireland, 428;
battle of the Boyne, 430;
popularity with Parliament, 437;
with his army in the Netherlands, 452-456;
Continental campaign, 466;
reconciled with Anne, 479;
reception in London after capture of Namur, 482;
plot against, 485;
campaign in Flanders, 496;
triumphal entry into London, 501;
question as to the succession, 521;
illness, 530;
marks of the nation's confidence, 531;
fall from his horse, 533;
death of, 534;
appearance and character of, 402, 534.

Williams, Archbishop, attacked by a Puritan mob, address to the king, 6.

Winceby-on-the-Wolds, Battle at, 26.

Windebank, Colonel, 39.

Window tax, Origin of the, 483.

Wither, George, 178.

Worcester, Battle of, 106.

Worcester, Marquis of, 370.

Working classes, The, under the Stuarts, 391;
wages of artizans, enactments against free labour, 392.

Wroth, Sir Thomas, 74.

Yarranton, Mr., plan for decrease of pauperism, 393.

York, Duke of, in the custody of Parliament, 54;
escape to Holland, 75;
at the siege of Dunkirk, 148;
Admiral against the Dutch, 214;
victory at Southwold Bay, 235;
the Popish plot, 248;
opposes Monmouth, 264;
government in Scotland, 283 (_see_ also James II.).

Young, Commodore, victory over the Dutch fleet, 111.

Zulestein, General, mission to England, 322;
messenger to James II. from William of Orange, 347.

PRINTED BY CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE, LONDON, E.C.

* * * * *

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Cassell's History of England. Vol III - From the Great Rebellion to the Fall of Marlborough." ***

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